It could be said that Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen, is one of my favorite books. It could also be said that the movie (the newer one, with Keira Knightley and Matthew MacFayden) is one of my favorite movies. Both of those things being true, you can imagine my reaction when I discovered the house we were going to see on the way to the Lake District was actually Pemberley.

Okay, it’s not really Pemberley. It’s called Chatsworth, and its the home of the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire. I just thought it was Pemberley because it’s the house they used as Pemberley for the movie. The inside was incredible. I didn’t take the actual tour of the house, because it cost a few extra pounds that I figured I could go without spending, and we could ramble about the house without the tour guide anyway. But going through the house on my own was not a sacrifice by any stretch of the imagination. There were laminated pages in each room we were allowed to go into, detailing the use of the room and the reasons behind its decoration. I say ‘rooms we were allowed into’ because Chatsworth is still used as a full-time residence by the Duke and Duchess, and therefore the private rooms should be kept as they are–private for those who live there. Gosh, though, can you even imagine living there? Growing up in a place like that, with 150 acres of garden and extra woodland and sheep-grazing land? It was gorgeous. The inside was ornate without being too stuffy, although there was a rather large amount of statues and collections of rocks that, while beautiful, confused me a little. Sometimes they just didn’t go with the room they were placed in, at least to my eye, or seemed haphazardly set down and forgotten about. In all honestly, while the inside was gorgeous, it was the gardens and estate lands that really impressed me. The landscape was just beautiful, and even though it was pouring, it was fun to explore. Cat and I even solved the maze in the garden, which took quite a while and ended up with both of us soaking wet from the rain.

We also found this hidden garden area, designed with rock formations and ponds and bridges and waterfalls that literally took my breath away (of course, it was also really cold, so it could have been that, too). It felt like we were explorers, on some crazy adventure… which I suppose we were. It was raining so much, I can’t believe we actually went out and explored the grounds like we did. I’m really happy we did, though, because even though it felt rainy and cold and miserable, the pictures look pretty good and I’ll have them forever. The memory of the cold and the wet will fade with time, but now I never have to forget the natural beauty of the grounds surrounding Chatsworth. It really was unbelievable, to be able to stand in the midst of things I’d only seen on tv or read about in books. That’s a sentiment I seem to be repeating, but I can’t really help it–it’s still true!

 

After Chatsworth, we continued to YHA Windemere, the hostel we stayed at for the weekend. This hostel was absolutely fabulous. I’m not sure if it was because we were so cold and so hungry, but the fish and chips we had for dinner that night were the best I’ve ever tasted, and crawling into bed that night felt like heaven. I slept like a rock, and getting up the next morning was tough. It was worth it, though, because that morning we went on a hike around the town of Coniston, to Tarn Hows, one of the most photographed parts of the Lake District. Now, it was definitely still raining, but the hike was incredible anyway. It was a bit difficult to follow the directions, because a lot of the hike involved walking across sheep pastures and down roads with no sidewalks and figuring out which gate we were supposed to go through. But the views were worth it… Here are a few:

 

I couldn’t help quoting Jane Austen in my head… “What are men compared to rocks and mountains?” and trying to believe that what I was seeing was real, and in front of me. I felt like I was following Lizzie Bennet, honestly, through the Lake District. As she journeyed through the mountains to Pemberley, I travelled through the mountains away from it. Although, I have to be honest, I’m very glad I didn’t have to arrive in a horse-drawn carriage, because the carsickness from a bus was bad enough.

The hike was something like 5 miles to the top, and I must pause here to thank my family many, many times for getting me to hike over the years, because it helped me appreciate the beauty I was seeing instead of focusing on how I didn’t like exercising and walking up these ridiculous hills that might  have been mountains. I was able to see the mountains as a chance to see the land around me better, instead of merely an obstacle to overcome. And man, the views were beautiful. There were the ones I’ve already shown you, but there isn’t enough room in this post to show you all the gorgeous ones (hint, every picture I took was a winner, without me even trying). Suffice it to say that beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe it. Climbing down was the hardest part, not only because it was steeper (it was also faster) but because this is when the downpour started in earnest. It had been raining/drizzling/icky all morning, but it REALLY started raining during the last mile or so into town. Eating in a dry pub afterward, and hot chocolate for me, was a reward well deserved by all of us.

Next we went on a boat cruise on Windemere, the largest freshwater lake in England. Not quite as impressive when we live right in the middle of a bunch of the biggest freshwater lakes in the world, but fun to see nevertheless. To be honest, it was the mountains rising up from the lake that were more impressive than the lake itself. The really fun part of the boat trip was when a couple of the other people on the boat, who were from Taiwan, decided to take pictures with me. I wasn’t exactly asked about this so much as just sat down next to and hugged while a camera snapped. Jin told me it was because I looked like a doll, with my red curly hair. I thought it might have been because I looked a tad like Beatrix Potter, author of the Peter Rabbit books, who was from the Lake District. I only guessed that part, actually, because it sounded like they were calling me ‘Mrs. Potter.’  They were all extremely friendly about it though, and we talked a bit about their trip afterward. Making new friends is definitely something I want to do more of on this trip.

The next morning, we packed up our stuff at the hostel and checked out, ready to go see Fountains Abbey. The only thing I knew about this place was that it mostly survived the break from the Catholic Church King Henry VIII imposed on England, while most monasteries did not. I was not prepared for how gorgeous the ruins were. And gorgeous they were. We didn’t get there in time for the tour, so we didn’t get as much history as I would have liked, but we did get to explore much more than I was expecting. For the most part, we were allowed to climb up and over parts of the ruins, through windows and doors and over walls, up stairs and around pillars. I took a ridiculous amount of pictures because the architecture was just stunning. The lines created by the stone and the arches and the sky were so beautiful, and it helped that today was the first sunny day we’d had on the trip–I was feeling particularly happy about that, so the world in general just looked brighter. The picture makes the Abbey look pretty, I guess, but this place was absolutely massive. That arch was so big, I couldn’t even judge an accurate distance from the ground because I was so busy being in awe of the physics behind building something like that before the 16th century. Like seriously, how did that happen? It was so, so beautiful. It was quite a trek around the Abbey, however, and another long walk to and through the Water Gardens around the bend. It was worth the walk, of course, but it was definitely tiring. After seeing that, we went for ice cream (and lunch) at the restaurant by the entrance to the Abbey grounds. I had a really great toffee ice cream that tasted kinda like caramel and butterscotch and chocolate all at the same time–needless to say, I liked it. After lunch, we all got on the bus and began the long journey home.

British roads are confusing. Many of the roads in the Lake District reminded me of roads from Up North, less well-kept and small. Even weirder, the hedges and rock walls come right up to the edge of the road, so it’s almost impossible to turn around at any point. Furthermore, they are very narrow, so sometimes only one car can get through at a time. This makes maneuvering rather difficult, not to mention that because the area was rather mountainous, the roads were very very windy and twisty and turny. It actually reminded me of riding around on a bus in Guatemala, which is a comparison I never expected to make. Again, it made me very glad that I wasn’t following EXACTLY in Lizzie Bennet’s footsteps, because I’m fairly sure I wouldn’t have handled a horse-drawn carriage very well.

With happiness, awe, and love,

Bryn