Monday 5th August 2013: Keswick

It's incredible to believe that we have been in Keswick, in the North Lakes, for just over 48 hours.

My parents arrived yesterday morning and it's the first time all weekend that I have had time, on my own, to write my blog.

Keswick is stunning and although it is to be found right in the centre of the Lakeland Fells, there is certainly a sense that it could be a Victorian seaside town. A bit like Matlock in Derbyshire but with lots of outdoor walking shops instead of the many bleary lights of the slots to be found in deepest, darkest Derbyshire.

Actually, I would go as far as to say that the number of outdoor shops in Keswick outnumber people by 4 - 1; there are more outdoor clothing shops than there are sheep grazing on the Fells. And that's saying something.

Rob and I made this assertion whilst travelling around the Keswick one-way system a number of times; reminiscent of the Griswalds when travelling around London in 'National Lampoons'. However, instead of saying, "There's Big Ben!" many times we were saying things like, "Oh! There's a Bootles" (Bootles being a very posh food store in the North of England) and "Exciting! There's the Lake!"

10 minutes later...

"There is the flamin' Lake again, now where the bloody hell is our apartment?". It turned out the apartment was 5 minutes from Lake Derwentwater as stated in the brochure; however, our SAT NAV (i.e Rob) took a wrong turn. 

No one could blame him really. After having a poor night's sleep at The Black Bull in Coniston the night before we left, I'm surprised he didn't drive us into the Lake because we were that tired. Bethan's insistence on familiarising herself with the old Inn House (a place famous for its brewed onsite beer and frequenter, Donald Campbell) during the night meant that the hours ticked by very, very, very slowly.

When we arrived at the apartment, things got better...and then they got worse.

As I was frantically unpacking for the second time in two weeks I overlooked the fact that my 14 month old toddler aka The Destroyer was running around under my feet whilst Rob with Beth's 'assistance' (ahem) was bringing things in from the car.

Disaster struck as I walked backed into the kitchen, slipped, but managed to get up again to see James' face looking down at me whilst holding a bottle of cooking oil - with its lid off! Frantically, I tried to clean up the oil disaster with kitchen roll as my parents were about to arrive and I didn't fancy them re-enacting the end of Torvill and Dean's Bolero as they walked in to the apartment. Damn bloody laminate floors. And oil. And me for putting the bottle within easy-reach of, let's face it' a toddler on a mission of discovery.

It's pure luck that I didn't do any damage to my leg. Although, as Rob pointed out, I was in easy reach of the many outdoor shops that surrounded us if I need lint, bandages, cream... Whilst spread-eagled on the floor I kept imagining the headline, "Woman trips and breaks ankle, not on Helvellyn but on a kitchen floor".

The shame.