Saturday, October 16, 2010

Whirl Goes Sunbathing


I’m not so sure now that my brilliant idea to spend a few days in the Lake District in October was quite so all-consuming in its brilliance.

Not that the weather people are predicting a deluge, far from it. If anything, clement conditions are on the cards. According to NASA, even the sheep have been trained in the latest anti-irritating bleat techniques.

What’s bugging me is the prospect of bumping into gangs of bobbly headed walkers. Every time I go exploring places like the Lakes, I encounter huge numbers of them, rambling wild in their stupid wooly hats, carrying maps and stupid specialist equipment for wandering round in the great outdoors in stupid wooly hats with maps. Somewhere in the universe there is a planet with zero discernable geographical locations where ramblers can ramble to the end of time, never going anywhere, never getting anywhere, just trudging about between non-existent As and Bs, grinning in their stupid wooly hats.

Maybe I’ll confine myself to the gift shops, spend the whole week nattering with some 752 year-old woman over wickerwork beagles and tea cosy holder holders.

Or, if I find some dream pub, maybe I’ll get so ridiculously slashed they’ll have to wake up the Lakes Bobby.

Whatever — I’ll let you all know how I got on when I get back.


14 comments:

fairyhedgehog said...

in stupid wooly hats with maps

Yes, maps on hats are pretty silly.

We used to visit the Lake District at Easter when I was young and fit and it was very pretty. Have a lovely time and don't fall off any mountains!

Dave King said...

The image says it all. Wonderful!

Old Kitty said...

I'm a Rambler and proud of it.

But I don't have a woolly hat and I can't read maps. :-)

I just like the big bad boots and the ever so fashionable fleece tops and waterproof trousers.

Oh yes, lock up your sheep, farmers, here I come! Take care
x

Whirlochre said...

Spiny Beastie
Falling off mountains presupposes getting onto them first. Who do you think I am — Tarzan?

Dave
Nice to see you again. And thanks.

Old Kitty
1st Golden Rule of blogging — never insult your followers. If it helps, there's no sound that brings me more comfort when I'm out on the open road than the chafing hsssk hsssk hsssk of waterproof trousers. It's the closest guys get to the static swish of tights without taking a stroll down Tranny Avenue.

stacy said...

I hope you find a dream pub. If you do, raise a pint or a glass or whatever you're drinking for me.

Whirlochre said...

As long as I can put it down when I'm done. Fond of you as I am, I'm not walking round the Lakes for a whole week with a pint of Throbblethwaite's Old Grobbler held over my head.

jjdebenedictis said...

Canadians call wooly hats "toques" and those who wear them are generally the bullies of trails--great knobby-boot-wearing keeners, with great knobby walking sticks, who pound past the ramblers as if they, i.e. the keener, is late for a targeted assassination they promised they'd perform for their dear mum.

So it could be worse, is what I'm saying. At least the sheep are well-trained.


Random Word Verification: Coysmork

Whatever bot Blogger has coming up with these terms, I have to compliment it--I don't know what a coysmork is, but I really, really want to!

writtenwyrdd said...

I always wanted to hike the lake district. Let me know when you will be there next and I'll show up in liederhosen and a stupid wooly hat with a feather. Give you nightmares for weeks, I will.

stacy said...

I would never ask you to do that, Whirl. Please put the glass down before you get back to hiking.

Sylvia said...

Looking forward to a full report upon your return - and a list of interesting Lake District drinks ;)

Robin B. said...

Sounds like a plan! The good pub, I mean. Pub. Hike. Pub. Hike. Sounds like a good combo plan to me.

McKoala said...

There speaks the proud owner of a smart navy cagoule. O Whirl o' Stylee.

Mother (Re)produces. said...

Sounds like bliss. I got one o' them hats. I'm feeling the urge to put it on and have a heart to heart with sock monkey.

Off topic, but WW, I gotta tell you, I don't know where the universal English Language transmutilation of Lederhosen came from- I've seen it elsewhere- but Liederhosen means "song trousers."
Actually, I can well imagine that Whirl might just go for those. Hmmm.

Whirlochre said...

Hmmm, clearly I am a man in whose Liederhosen appears.

Would have made a great Carpenters song.

"Why do liederhosen suddenly appear
every time you are near...?"