Beers of Belgium

This is far from comprehensive, of course.  You’d need months of dedicated, er, work, to get through the breweries of Belgium.  Instead, here are images of some of the beers we had on our trip to Belgium.  Belgians take their glassware seriously, which means less need for captioning.

 

Gueuze at the Cantillon brewery.  Gueuze is a combination of variously aged lambics, which are naturally fermented and uncarbonated.

Kriek, more or less the cherry version of gueuze.  Take lambic and soak cherries in it for a while.  This is a far cry from the Lindeman’s fruit lambics you sometimes see in the US, which the Cantillon brewery pooh-poohs as cheating (they add sugar to help along the fermentation and sweeten the final product).  ‘Pleasantly sour’ is the way I’d describe this.

A long weekend in Barcelona, part 3

As Becca mentioned, we’re going to be running a half-marathon in June, which means that we’re now committed to running most days of the week, with no exceptions for vacations.  So last Sunday we went on the longest run of my life: roughly 8 miles: down La Rambla, along the beach, up through Poblenou, then back to our hotel along Avenida Diagonal and Gran Via.  It was a great way to see bits of the city that we wouldn’t have otherwise seen, and we got to enjoy the sun along the beach and dip our hands in the Mediterranean.  Let me tell you: the Mediterranean in January?  Warmer than the Atlantic in Maine in July.

After the long run, we were pretty hungry, but we kept getting sidetracked before getting a proper meal.  First was the Mercat de Sant Antoni.  During the week, it’s a food market, but on Sundays there’s an eclectic collection of old books, bottle caps, picture postcards, and the like.  But the real highlight, surely, was a video game booth with an old-school Nintendo (with original Spanish-language packaging!).

We held our hunger at bay for a little while longer with a roasted sweet potato from a street vendor.  Then came our next distraction: a large group of people dancing the sardana, a traditional Catalan circle dance.  Wikipedia suggests that “As a a relatively slow, non-performance dance, the sardana does not require special fitness.”  Becca described it as a “gentle hora.”

Next up was what was either a dog park or an incredibly amateurish dog competition.  Given that there were cones, ramps, and similar obstacles for the dogs and their owners to (not) maneuver around, I’m pretty convinced that it was a dog show.  Let’s just say that it’s not surprising that your mental image of the dog show world doesn’t have much space for Spain.

At this point, we finally found a place to eat.  I was craving sugar after that long run, so I had a Fanta to go along with my manchego sandwich.  Becca got a tortilla española and we shared some patatas bravas.  Best of all, all the required exchanges took place in Spanish.  I’m especially proud of the fact that I managed to communicate the fact that the drinks didn’t appear on the receipt and that we should be paying more.

Our main plan for the day was to see the Romanesque collection at the Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya.  The collection’s highlights are church murals from around Catalunya that were moved to the museum in the early 20th century.  But here, I’m afraid, our best-laid plans began to be foiled.  Somehow we had missed the fact that the museum closed on Sundays at 2:30 in the afternoon.  So when we reached the top of the steps at 10 minutes to 2, it hardly seemed worth paying the admission fee.  It turns out that the Romanesque collection is closed to visitors until June, so it’s just as well.  We did, at least, get a nice view of Plaça Espanya.

So instead of medieval Catalan wall paintings, we opted for more Gaudí, this time the Park Güell in the northern part of the city.  Writing about whimsical architecture like this always feels a bit futile, so I’ll just post some pictures instead.

After the park, we hit something of a dry spell.  Maritime Museum?  Closed for renovation.  Palau Güell?  Closed for renovation.  A second visit to Granja Viador to lift our spirits with chocolate and churros?  Closed.  Belgious, a recommended waffle place?  Closed.  Things were getting pretty desperate by this point, and if Becca hadn’t found some cute earrings with swallows on La Rambla, this portion of the day would have felt like a failure.

Just when our spirits were at their lowest, we were rescued by… beer.  La Cerveteca appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, to warm our hearts with winter ale (for me) and something Belgian and fruity (for Becca).   In addition to the beer on tap, they also had a pretty good selection of imports in bottles.  It’s always really interesting to see what American beers ‘make it’ as exports.  Brooklyn Lager, Anchor Porter, Sierra Nevada Pale Ale – it’s as if we’re back at the Trader Joe’s in Coolidge Corner.

Rejuvenated, we suddenly realized we were just a few steps away from the pastry shop recommended by our friend Laura.  Fortified by the sugar of a cornet con trufa (basically a chocolate ice cream cone) and a piece of chocolate cake, we practically raced to an Irish pub to catch the tail-end of the scoreless draw between Tottenham Hotspur and Manchester United.

The exciting last few minutes of that game proved a nice prelude to the main event for the evening: a trip to Camp Nou for the Barcelona-Málaga match.  For those of you who aren’t keeping up with La Liga, Barcelona are solidly in first place, with Málaga towards the bottom of the standings.  So were were expecting something of a rout.  And that’s what we got.

Scattered thoughts on the action:

- David Villa’s first touch is simply extravagant, no matter at what height or angle the ball reaches him.  With that sort of ball control, it’s not surprising that he’s already at 14 goals on the season.

- Barça’s aggressiveness is something to behold.  Even after they were up 3-0, they kept up the pressure on Málaga, with the whole team in Málaga’s half of the field whenever the ball was there.  This could prove risky against a good counter-attack, but Málaga’s never looked like doing much when they had the ball, so it was fun just to sit back and watch the Barça players kill themselves to get possession of the ball back after turnovers.

- The lack of selfishness among the Barça players is pretty fantastic to watch.  It’s much easier to be selfless, I suppose, when there are plenty of goals to go around.

But just as much as the sparkling action on the field, the trip to Camp Nou was thrilling for the atmosphere of the crowd.  Men and women, all ages, willing their team to victory.  I went to the bathroom midway through the first half (thereby missing David Villa’s first goal), and the concourse was completely empty – no one wanted to miss anything on the field.

This video gives you a sense of the pre-game atmosphere.

So – not a bad way to round out the trip.  We made an early-morning stop at La Boqueria on the next morning for a quick breakfast and some goodies (dried fruit, marzipan, clementines), then it was back to London.

England...the Land of Beer and Tea...kind of

Random photo from September. We went to 0 Longitude!



When American's think of England, then tend to think of stereotypes (terrible teeth made up for by adorable accents, polite queing, adoration of the royal family except for Charles), many of these stereotypes coming from Hollywood ("I feel like I'm living in a Hugh Grant movie" - Kirsten, our most recent awesome houseguest). Some, but not all, of these turn out to be true (newsflash! In London, no one forms a queue). However, the stereotypes about beer and tea are absolutely true. The pub is completely central to English life, and tea is completely central to any work or social gathering, or really any personal encounter (I was recently offered tea when I went to pick up my new suit jacket from the tailor). However, both of these come with caveats that I feel are worth explaining.

I was so excited for drinking beer in England. Finally, a land not ruled by Budwiser and Coors and Miller! Going to a pub with multiple beers I'm excited about drinking! Not having to listen to Danny whine about what a terrible word "drinkability" is! While the first and third of those statements have proven to be correct, I've been disappointed in the beer selection, both at pubs and at beer stores.

Okay, so first a little background. There are two kinds of pubs here: "free houses", which can serve whichever beer they want, and pubs owned by a brewing company (generally one of the big English companies, like Youngs or Greene King). Most free houses will have two or maybe three "real ales," and then a selection of continental favorites like Amstel and Heinekin. (And always Peroni. Why do the Italians even bother making beer when they do everything else so well? well, except politics.) Now don't get me wrong, I'd much rather have Heinekin than Bud Light, but it just leaves something to be desired. Pubs owned by a brewer will whatever range of beers that brewer makes (which usually includes something darkish, several ales, maybe a lager), which is okay, but I always feel like I'm buying beer from The Man when I end up at one of these pubs. What's curious is that our trips to the lake district and several CAMRA beer festivals have shown that the UK makes lots of delicious beer, it just doesn't tend to show up in London pubs. I guess this is just my way of saying that I miss Sam Adams and Harpoon and Smuttynose and Brooklyn Brewery...

However, I should add that I still really enjoy our local pubs - we consider ourselves lucky enough to have five pubs close enough to be "local" - The Star, The Dartmouth Arms, The Lord Palmerston, The Bull and Last, The Southampton Arms. Here's the quick rundown of each pub, complete with the nickname that Danny has given each one. Points if you can figure out how each one was derived! (Sorry for the repetition from one of Danny's earlier posts, but I think that speaks to how great English pubs are!)

The Star - no nickname here. This one is just around the corner, so it's our go-to pub for a weeknight pint. It's quiet during the week, but it serves great food and is a trendy place to be come the weekend! The only pub where we know the manager by her first name.

The Dartmouth Arms (aka Al's Posse) - The less trendy heart of Dartmouth Park, this place shows football, has board games, and does an amazing plate of chips. It also has really funky pink flowered wallpaper, and we're just dying to try out their breakfast.

The Lord Palmerson (aka The Tap) - We walk by it every day on the way to the tube/bus, so when it's time for a drink we're less inclined to head back in that direction, but it also has a casual, local feel.

The Bull and Last (aka the Cow and First...okay that nickname's not as complicated) - we've only ever been once, and it has a fairly typical beer selection, but it's the menu that really got us excited to go back. Lots of yummy-sounding veggie options, and they've written all their local food suppliers on the wall, which is a good sign. We tried to go for lunch last Sunday and they said they weren't taking new food orders because the kitchen was too busy. It's a good sign for the quality of the food, but what is that supposed to mean? Aren't you in the food service industry?

The Southampton Arms (aka The Attempt) - Danny was singing the praises of this one in an earlier post about our pub crawl, but I'll repeat. This is where the real beer is. All from small breweries, all real ale and real cider (though real cider is actually pretty gross), and the staff really knows their beer. When Mark asked for "the hoppiest beer you've got", they knew exactly which ones to recommend. Unfortunately, when it comes to hoppiness, English beers just can't compete with American ones. Such is the plight of those brought up on Harpoon IPA.

But back to the main point about generally limited beer selection (The S.A. not withstanding)...the phenomenon is curiously repeated when it comes to tea. Tea is everywhere. At work, no one shows up to a meeting without a cuppa, and everyone who couldn't bring their own is immediately offered one (and never in anything other than a proper mug). Every tense situation on soap operas is accompanied with a plea along the lines of, "Don't leave! Let me just put on the kettle and we can discuss this!" And it's also totally normal to order tea in a pub. But the English are not really into fancy tea. I would guess that most households just have a stock of unremarkable English Breakfast, and that's it. And you'll rarely even hear people refer to it as English Breakfast. To them it's just...tea. I was doing fine with this model for a while (plus mint tea to have at night), but recently I've gotten desperate for something more complex, and we've gotten some earl grey and chai.

I guess I would say that when it comes to tea, it's really much more about the experience of tea than the flavor of tea. Something that makes you feel calm and safe, something to warm up those blustry English days, something that makes you pause for a moment to appreciate a curling whisp of steam rising off a milky lake. and that's tea I can believe in.

A Dartmouth Park pub crawl

1) The Southampton Arms - a new place, prompted by a rave review in TimeOut.  The best beer selection I’ve seen among the local pubs thus far.  It’s a real shame that it’s taken us three months to discover it.

2) The Bull and Last (aka the Cow and First, courtesy Laura) – another new place.  Pooh-poohed by the recent Times piece as excessively upmarket.  I get their point, what with the rather prominent list of the local producers’ of their food.  But as well-educated twentysomethings, we rather fit the desired clientele.

3) The Lord Palmerston (aka ‘The Tap’ – exercise left to the reader).  Even though it’s just down the hill from us, this was only the second time we’ve been there.  It strikes me as a bit “shiny,” what with the dedicated restaurant-y dining room in the back.  But I appreciate the board games on the bar.

The night ended at this point, but if you were looking to complete the set, the places to go would be the Star and the Dartmouth Arms, which are really our two regular haunts.

A day at Lord's

We had hoped to go to the 5th day of the England-Pakistan Test at Lord's.  You know, the one in which Stuart Broad cemented his place as a real Test batsman.  But as it turned out, the Test finished halfway through the 4th day, with the shadows of spot-fixing allegations hanging over the Pakistan team.  So our hopes to see Test cricket at the home of cricket were dashed.

Instead, we opted for a rather less significant match: a Pro40 one-day match between Middlesex and Derbyshire last Saturday.  Last Saturday was a pleasant day, so why not spend it outside?

The match itself was a pretty tame affair: a 7-wicket win for Middlesex, with little sense of any other possible result for most of the afternoon.  So rather than you a rather boring recap of the game action, here's a series of observations about watching a domestic cricket match at Lord's, the home of cricket on a Saturday afternoon in late summer.

But first, evidence that we were there:

Becca with the Media Centre.





Danny with the Pavillion.



- Beer is cheap.  Well, cheap by pub standards.  You're going to pay £4 for a pint of ale, whereas I think the priciest pint in a pub I've had in London is somewhere around £3.60.  But given that you're at a professional sporting event, £4 is dirt cheap.  Those of you who have been to Fenway recently know how much beer at a baseball game will set you back.  And remember, here in England it comes in pints.

- People dress up to watch cricket.  I suspect that this is much more common at Lord's (with its connection to the Marylebone Cricket Club, a sort of old-fashioned gentleman's club with a special interest in cricket), but still, it's rather striking to view to see dozens of men dressed in blazers and ties while drinking beer on a Saturday afternoon.

- Some of the best players in the world play before small crowds in domestic matches.  I can't find any attendance figures for the match we went to, but I'd say that there were no more than 1,000 fans in attendance, most of them clustered together on one side of the pitch.  This, in spite of the fact that England captain Andrew Strauss turned out for Middlesex.  It was a bit of a shock to see him fielding, rather anonymously, at square-leg, just 15 meters away from us.

- Speaking of close contact with England players, we happened to find ourselves just a few steps behind fast bowler Steven Finn as we wandered around the stadium.  At first I thought it was just a fan wearing the Middlesex kit.  But we quickly realized that there aren't many fans that are 6'7".  So there he was, just walking back to the dressing room as we wandered back to our seats.

- Pimm's and Lemonade on tap!

If you happen to be in London this weekend and want to see English cricket at its amateurish best, the final of the Village Cricket Cup is at 11:00 on Saturday morning at Lord's.  Shipton-under-Wychwood versus Sessay for all the marbles.

How to spend a Sunday in North London

Walk up to Kenwood House on the northern edge of Hampstead Heath
Remind yourself that this used to be the countryside; Kenwood House was the estate of the 1st Earl of Mansfield during the 18th century.  It was only in the nineteenth century, with the coming of the railway, that "London" began to reach this far north.  It was only around the turn of the nineteenth century that London's population exceeded one million.

Get lost wandering in Hampstead Heath
At almost 800 acres, there's a lot to get lost in.  Fortunately, there are landmarks throughout (roads, ponds, and the like).  This isn't a wide-open green space like Hyde or Regent's Park.  While there are open spaces, much of the Heath is wooded.  On the whole, it feels quite wild and you can almost forget that the hum of central London is just a few miles away.  Worst-case scenario if you get truly lost: walk in one direction long enough and you'll find yourself back in civilization.  Still, not a bad idea to bring a map and compass.

All right, so it wasn't actually our plan to get lost.  But it happened.  Twice.  As I said, it's wild and unruly on the Heath, with lots of twisting paths.  It's all too easy to lose your sense of direction.  But it does wonders for your sense of adventure.

If you find yourself in the neighborhood of North End (as we did), marvel at the fact that there are dirt-and-gravel roads in London.

Eat ice cream and look at the emus in Golders Hill Park

Though it's technically part of the Heath, it feels very different: manicured lawns, a "water garden," and the ubiquitous cafe.  You can't have a park in London without an accompanying cafe.  The mint chocolate chip ice cream tastes like summer.


Stroll down the hill to Hampstead
Always described as a "village-y" bit of London, it lives up to its reputation.  Outside the pub prices (see below), you could imagine yourself having just found a respite from a long walk in the countryside (something we know about).  A few Hampstead highlights:

- Have a pint at the Horsheshoe. The beer's not cheap (almost £4 a pint), but it's local (brewed downstairs) and good. Their wheat beer is the darkest I've seen.

- Hampstead Creperie. Not to miss. Seriously. We were just in Paris, and this blows the crepes we had in Paris out of the water (if my abstract gets accepted to a conference in Rennes, I'll be sure to report on how the Breton entry in the Great Crepe Competition of 2010 fares). Becca's choice: mushroom and cheese. Danny's honey and walnut.

After enjoying the charms of Hampstead, make your way home through South End Green, stopping for ingredients for dinner.  Our recommendation: roasted garlic and sage risotto with walnuts, sauteed zucchini, and a Greek-ish salad.  Finish it off with a caramel and cashew cheesecake and you've had yourself an awfully good day.

Five Days in the Lake District, part 4

Day 4: Great Langdale to Keswick
This is the only day of the trip that we stuck to the Cumbria Way the whole time (though it's actually day 3 of the Cumbria way).

The day started out looking cloudy but dry, with even a hint that maybe the sun would come out later. In the time it took me to put on sunscreen outside the front door, it starting raining. blah. But not a heavy rain, just the light drizzle we had come to expect, and we were hopeful it would be short-lived. We struck out from the Old Dungeon Ghyll, deeper and deeper into the Langdale valley towards Mickledon, the basin where the Langdale peaks come together. At this point you have to make a decision: turn around or head up and over. Luckily, the Way goes up and over the lower part of the ridge, but still high enough to afford a great view of the valley, with it's broad river bed and rocky terrain. Just image what it would have looked like if we could have seen the peaks! Surprisingly, this valley actually reminded me of some river beds in Denali National Park of all places. Smaller mountains, though.

After the climb out of Mickledon we descended into another beautiful valley with a good Scottish name: Langstrath. It was in this valley that we saw what I can only describe as "The great sheep migration of July 2010". What we saw was a line of dozens of sheep walking out of another valley that branches off Langstrath, following the path and walking in a nearly single-file line. And they were being pretty noisy about it! The sheep just kept on coming...soon it looked like a hundred or more sheep all walking alongside the river with great purpose (on the opposite bank from us, sadly). We could only assume that they were being herded by someone deep in the valley, but we couldn't see it. After about a half hour of this we encountered a short line of sheep walking towards us on our side of the river, and they were followed by a real-life shepherd carrying a crook, and his real-life sheepdog, who was having the time of his/her life running up and down hills herding sheep (who really are amazingly easy to herd). It was pretty awesome.

After a few hours the trail brought us to the hamlets of Stonethwaite and Rosthwaite, in the valley of Borrowdale, which seem to exist only to accommodate walkers and vacationers like us. I should mention that by this point it had been fairly dry for a while, but our boots, which had started the day a bit damp from the day before, were completely soaked through, and I was grumpy about it. The bits of chocolate in our gorp weren't enough to get me through my afternoon grumpiness, so we had to stop for a pint at the Scafell hotel.

Fueled by beer, the next few miles passed without too much trouble: rolling hills and farmland, crossings of the River Derwent, clearing skies, lots of adorable sheep, craggy fells all around us. By the time we reached Grange-in-Borrowdale it was downright sunny for the first time in the trip (see photo of me wearing sunglasses for proof)! The only problem was that when we got to Grange we still had 5 miles left, and our feet were really starting to ache from all the walking in wet, dirty socks. The lesson here is CHANGE YOUR SOCKS! Which we did not. And our feet just got more tired and our moods more glum the closer we got to our destination.

Which is really a shame, because it should have been a very nice ramble. The sun was shining, and most of the rest of the walk was flat and through a pretty forest along the edge of Derwentwater, another tempting lake. Derwentwater has a system of shuttle boats that we could have taken to Keswick, but it really seemed more appropriate to walk, even if at that point it was more of a hobble to the tune of constant whining.

Knocking on the door of the Bridgedale Guesthouse was a huge relief, as was a shower and a pair of dry socks. I'll save descriptions of Keswick for our last post, but I'll put in a huge plug for the pub we went to that night, called the Dog and Gun. It's 100% dog friendly, and even has a dog menu. Also fantastic local ales (Keswick Brewing Company = awesome) and big plates of tasty food (butternut squash lasagna!) for the cheapest prices we saw in the Lakes. Check it out! you know, when you happen to be passing through Keswick...

15 miles walked.
Towns: Stonethwaite, Rosthwaite, Grange-in-Borrowdale (seen from afar!), Portinscale (just outside Keswick), Keswick
Peaks: none

The Great British Beer Festival

Two beer festivals in ten days!  A few Fridays ago, after spending the morning exploring the cathedral precincts of Canterbury, we went to the Kent Beer Festival.  Impressive as that was, it was a mere taster to the main event, the Great British Beer Festival in Earls Court.

The highlight, of course, was the hundreds of beers on offer.  Here's what we tried, along with our notes, which, as you might expect, got sillier as the day went on.

Kipling South Pacific Pale Ale by Thornbridge Brewery, Derbyshire
[We hadn't thought to write down any notes at this point - shame on us!]

Sunchaser by Everards, Leicestershire
Sour nose.  It was at this point that I made a bad drawing of a nose on our sheet of paper.

Chocolate and Vanilla Stout by Titanic, Staffordshire
Becca: Smells like vanilla.
Danny: Super-sweet nose, more balanced taste.  Long vanilla finish.

Honey Buzzard by Cotleigh, Somerset 
Becca: "That's not copper!" [In response to the putative copper color.]  "Not tasting the honey - it tastes of anti-honey?"
Danny: Subtle flavor, increasingly chocolate with more sips.  Soft (weak?) finish?

Norwich Terrier by Buffy's, Norwich
We chose this one, as you might have guessed, in homage to a particular pooch.
More aftertaste than taste.

Triple Chocoholic by Saltaire, Yorkshire
Becca: "Chocolate chocolate chocolate!  Ack!"
Danny: "None blacker.  Washes over you with a wave of goodness."

Pegasus by Milton, Cambridgeshire 
Becca: "Really interesting nose... caramelly.  Toffee, since were in England.  Aftertaste goes on forever."
Danny: "Smooth but bright."

Echte Kriekenbier by Verhaeghe, Belgium
Becca: "Tart.  Definitely on the girly side."
Danny: "Ridiculous foamy head."


Lots more to the beer festival than just beer.  For instance...

Carnival games!

Exhibits of beer ingredients!  It turns out that caramel malt tastes just like Grape-Nuts.  Who knew?

And food!  And no, we have no idea what goes in a breakfast pie or why they would be selling such a thing in the late afternoon.

Also, table football (foosball).  After Becca scored four quick goals against my weak defense, my ball control skills returned and I scored five on the trot to take the game 5-4. 

On the whole, a good way to spend a rainy London day.  The concrete floor and convention center atmosphere may have diminished the real ale charm a bit, but it's hard to complain when the outcome (us getting to try lots of yummy beers at reasonable prices) is so good.

Five Days in the Lake District, part 2

Coming to you 10 days later, it's the 2nd day of our rambling/hill walking trip!

We woke up in the Black Bull Hotel in Coniston to dry weather and patches of blue among the clouds. Score! One delightful aspect of the trip was that 3 out of 4 places we stayed were B&Bs, so breakfast was included. That morning, our vegetarian version of the full English breakfast included tea, orange juice, toast, jam, cereal, 2 eggs, beans, fried mushrooms, grilled tomatoes, and fried bread. Not a bad way to start a day of walking!

Our plan for this day was to hike the standard day 2 of The Cumbria Way, which technically goes from Coniston to Great Langdale, but hotels in Great Langdale were limited and pricey (we discovered why when we were there), so we opted instead to spend the 2nd night in Grasmere, another picturesque town on a lake, 2 miles off the Way.

The day started with a little bit of climbing out of Coniston, but generally this was much more of a rambling day than a fell-walking day. Forests mixed with rolling, grassy, sheepy hills led the way to Tarn Howes, a large lake that used to be 3 separate lakes until a dam was build downstream. This of course led to a discussion about how even what we consider to be beautiful and "nature" today may have been shaped by human hands in the past, and in this case you wouldn't know it unless you stopped into the helpful visitor information booth.

From there to the small town of Elterwater the terrain was mostly rolling farmland, with many picturesque farmhouses, views into green valleys, and the ever-intriguing stone walls from centuries ago. All of these stone walls necessitate one of the most charming features of the Way - the bizarre collection of ways there are to get over and through these walls. In some places there are wooden steps, or stiles, to simply climb over the wall. In some places there is a space in the wall and there is a gate to let you through - either a standard swinging gate (with a variety of locking/closing mechanisms) or more involved kissing gate. Or there was our favorite, the tiny gate at the top of the wall with embedded stone steps. Amazing. This funny little website has a nice picture and description of a kissing gate. Or, if you want to build your own, check out this one.

Somehow we managed to navigate all of these gates and arrive at Elterwater, first the water itself, then the tiny village. The lead-up was a very nice flat path alongside the lake with an open field where many people were playing with their dogs. Overall, I was very impressed with how the dogs, for the most part, were refraining from chasing the sheep. Elterwater is home to the Britannia Inn, which has a nice pub and is very clearly a haven for cyclists, ramblers and hill walkers alike. We stopped in to enjoy a cup of tea and a scone, and to try Coniston Brewing Company's special "Britannia" ale.

It was in Elterwater that we diverged from the Way to hike up and over a small ridge and into Grasmere. It was actually nice to gain some elevation after a day of walking in valleys, and from the top of the hill the views back to Elterwater and down into Grasmere, which is of course situated on yet another lake, were great. In Grasmere we were staying at a youth hostel, though this term is a bit misleading, as the other guest ranged from young children to couples in their 60's. Another reason I wanted to detour to Grasmere is because I couldn't resist the name of this hostel: The Grasmere Butharlyp Howe. We scouted out what looked like the restaurant with the best veggie options (a caramelized onion, walnut and stilton tart for a starter, and sticky toffee pudding for, um, pudding, though actually in the North they just call it all "sweets"), devoured our food, enjoyed a few local beers back at the hostel (the "Scafell Blonde" and "High Pike" from Heket Newmarket Brewery, for those of you keeping track at home), and were in our bunks by 10pm.

Approximately 12 miles walked
Towns: Elterwater, Grasmere
Peaks: none

Five days in the Lake District, part 1

Thanks to Becca's mad planning skills, and buoyed by a sunny and basically rain-free weather forecast, we pulled off a last-minute trip to the Lake District last week.  While the weather didn't exactly cooperate, we still had a lovely time tramping along the Cumbria Way and climbing some fells.

Day 1: London to Ulverston to Coniston
The 6:05 AM departure from Euston was, without doubt, the most stressful portion of the trip.  But we managed it just fine, catching the 5:41 subway from Tufnell Park and arriving at Euston with plenty of time to collect our tickets and settle into our first-class seats that were inexplicably cheaper than the standard fare.

I can't say that I remember much of the train ride up to Lancaster, as we rather groggily watched the Midlands pass us by.  Lancaster's also something of a blur.  It's really only the list of stations served by the Cumbrian Coast Line that really woke me up.  Ready?  Carnforth, Silverdale, Arnside, Grange-over-Sands, Kents Bank, Cark and Cartmel, Ulverston, Dalton, Roose, Barrow-in-Furness, Askam, Kirkby-in-Furness, Foxfield, Green Road, Millom, Silecroft, Bootle, Ravenglass, Drigg, Seascale, Sellafield, Braystones, Nethertown, St Bees, Corkickle, Whitehaven, Parton, Harrington, Workington, Flimby, Maryport, Aspatria, Wigton, Dalston (not to be confused with the Dalton above!), and Carlisle.  All in just over a hundred miles.  That, my friends, is a local train.

Our first surprise of the trip came soon after disembarking at Ulverston.  We already knew about the Laurel and Hardy Museum in Ulverston, but what we didn't know was that Swarthmoor Hall was just a mile away.  Yes, as in Swarthmore.

It being early on a Saturday morning, the actual building was closed.  But we had a nice stroll around the gardens and some early views of fells in the distance.

After wandering around Ulverston, a vibrant little market town, we hopped on the bus up to Coniston.  "Bus" is really something of a misnomer.  It was really more of a glorified shuttle van, and even that was more than enough space for its riders.  Aside from us, there were two little old ladies who had come into Ulverston to do their shopping (one of whom, inexplicably, had nothing more in her shopping bag than a few apples and a handful of carrots) and a backpacker.  Hardly the stuff of a money-making route, which probably explains the sulky teenager driving the bus.

We checked in at the Black Bull, drawn in as much by the accolades the associated brewery has garnered as anything else.  After settling into our room, we decided to attempt the Old Man of Coniston, a 1,365-foot peak that rises almost directly out of the village.  There was a light mist as we left the Black Bull, but we were hopeful that it would burn off in the afternoon sun.

After a few moments of uncertainty regarding the exact direction of the trail, we were well on our way.  About halfway up we passed an old slate quarry.  The exact location of the mining was easy to determine, with a rather stark contrast on the mountainside between green ferns and gray mining spoil.  A bit further up we reached Low Water, a small lake.  Along the way we were already starting to marvel at the omnipresence of sheep, with no sign of them thinning out in number as we ascended.

By Low Water, we were pretty well socked in by clouds.  Not exactly optimistic about a view, we kept going up.  We faced a pretty steep section near the top, but the encouraging words of those on their way back down provided all the inspiration we needed.  Sadly, no view whatsoever from the top of the Old Man.

But still, the first ascent of the trip.

As you can tell from that picture, we were soaked and cold.  So back to the Black Bull for a hot shower and dinner at the pub.  If you find yourself with the opportunity to sample some beers by the Coniston Brewery Company, be sure to try the Blacksmiths Ale.  Top-notch stuff.

Approximately 6 miles walked.
Towns: Ulverston, Coniston
Peaks: Old Man of Coniston