The secret village of Watendlath - which, if you paid attention yesterday, you will remember is neither secret not a village - lies at the end of a valley south of Keswick. There is a road, but I came to the hamlet - just a farm and a couple of cottages back in 1961 - from the east, over the fells (which is what they call the hills in Cumbria). I don't recall how many there were of us in the party but I do know we were accompanied by an instructor from the outward Bound centre on the shore off Ullswater. We had come over Helvellyn, round Thirlmere and dropped down into Watendlath en route for Borrowdale. This was in November so the view of the hamlet I had as we descended the fellside would have been rather less lush than in the picture below
|I think the photo is probably © Martin and Jean Norgate: 2014, Portsmouth University|
Even at the tender age of 19, I was much impressed by the beauty of the place.
We crossed the packhorse bridge and made our way up the track leading behind the trees in the right in the photo above. I do remember that for part of the way we were accompanied by, or maybe we accompanied them, a woman with her two teenage daughters. We had been without feminine company for at least two weeks by then, so despite the bromide with which our tea was habitually laced at the centre, we passed a pleasant half hour or so.
|Photo: Grevel Lindop|