Britain's favourite view

After another season of by-elections is over, I am taking some time out and have escaped to the country. More specifically, I have come to visit my friend Fiona who is currently working in Whitehaven, Cumbria, as a doctor. In fact Fiona lives in a wee place called St Bees on the west coast of Cumbria. She lives in a pretty, wee cottage in a courtyard where ducks roam and there's a pet rabbit in the back garden. It's just what I need. For those of you who know me well, the absence of a tele is somewhat of a culture shock, but by and large I'm coping just fine!

Yesterday we spent the day in and around the Wastwater area. It was recently voted 'Britain's Favourite View' - and it's not hard to see why. Not content with a waterside view of the valley, Fiona and I donned our hiking boots and headed for the hills. We aimed high and set out to climb England's highest peak, Scafell Pike. Standing at 978m, it is some 366m short of Ben Nevis but nevertheless the climb was very challenging - a lot of scree and very little shelter from the valley gales. Once we got past the constant 'climbing the stairs' stage of the climb, the climb became more exciting as we scrambled and rock-hugged! By the time we reached the top we had gone through umpteen weather systems and felt very satisfied with our achievement. The views in every direction appeared and disappeared as the clouds moved over the area. They were spectacular views when they revealed themselves though. We could see across to Coniston Water in the east and over to the Irish sea in the west - it was beautiful. Our satisfaction was short-lived, however as, faced with now 60mph gusts and horizontal snow, we tried to find the easiest and safest route down. We quickly realised there was no 'easy route down'. After a solid 40 minutes of keeping low to the ground and scaling some icy rock faces we returned to the comfort of 'climbing back down the stairs' - a welcome relief. As Wastwater became bigger in our sights we were greeted with increasing signs of civilisation, not least the little hill sheep who were gazing by the mountain burn. Once safely back to the car we headed for the nearby inn for a celebratory pint (well...one half pint and a cup of tea!) and metaphorically patted each other on the back after our achievement!

After years of doing Duke of Edinburgh's Award expeditions together, my dad would have been proud to see his girls still climbing hills of their own volition!