The Ashes...

I’d hoped to spend the morning photographing the interior of Townend, a National Trust property and one of my favourite buildings in the Lake District. I arrived a couple of hours before opening time, but an ‘out of hours’ tour of the house was in progress. I arranged to go back at 9am tomorrow instead… which gives me time to watch the afternoon session of the first Ashes test match. The Queens Hotel in Windermere has Sky TV, free wifi and Loweswater Gold on draught… a killer combination…

Caldbeck...

Caldbeck Church, where John Peel is buried. D'ye ken?...

Greenfields...

A rainy morning in Penrith, so I’ll park up and edit some of the pix I took yesterday. The weather forecast suggests it will brighten up after lunch. Took this shot yesterday, in the Eden Valley; maybe I can sell it to Microsoft, for $$$$$, as the default desktop for Windows computers…

River Eden...

Stock photographers seldom have any control over how their pictures are used, especially pix which don’t require releases for people or property. Reading the Guardian Online today, I saw that a pic of mine was being used in an article about a man who drowned trying to save a girl in the River Esk, near Longtown, Cumbria. A sad story… and I’m not sure why my pic was used (it’s of the River Eden, not the Esk) unless it suggests the dangers of swimming in the most placid-looking river. Coincidentally, I passed this spot again this morning, and took another shot…

Penrith...

Surviving the heat, even though the air-conditioning works only in the front of the vehicle, not the back. Sleeping is a matter of wearing as little as possible - and keeping a window open - while not offending the sensibilities of passers-by. Walking around town - Penrith - on a sultry summer’s evening reminds me of Spain or Italy rather than a small Lakeland town…

Wigton...

A brief visit to Wigton. These are my photographioc souvenirs...

Ah, the famous Irish Curry...

Creative vandalism...

Fowl play in Wigton's local newspaper...

Hot...

A year ago I wondered how hard it would be to find a suitable place to park up each night. Wild camping sounded romantic, if rather impractical. In fact, it’s easy. I can’t recall many days in the last year when I’ve really had to look for a place to stay. Something just turns up. No-one, it seems, takes any notice of a tiny motorhome or its occupant, as long as I desist from parking on someone’s lawn, or in a market place on market day, or in a big car-park in Kendal on the day that the fair comes to town…

I kipped at Glasson Dock last night, where the Lancaster Canal meets the sea. Driving up the M6 now, to Penrith, then cutting across to Cockermouth. Got to do some reconnaisance (and pix) for an article. But slowly… since today is probably going to be the hottest of the year…