Mice and the Lakes

Plans had been etched out days in advance, excitement had been brewing in us for quite some time. It was rather disappointing that we could not spare more days but the idea of a day trip to the Lake district is pretty much a great achievement for the seven of us whose every plan always flops or never even takes off from the launch pad.

How could this trip have been any different. The day began rather ominously with us reaching the station dangerously close to the departure time. We, typical style, decided that we had enough time to fill up our fuel with sandwiches and baguettes, having rushed through back at home and feeling increasingly complaining stomachs. The platform, we thought (let me add) was right next to where the cafe was, and so we would be able to easily skip through the doors and board it on time.

As it turned out one minute before the train departure, we realised the platform was on the other end and we needed to barge our way through several escalators and walks. As expected, by the time the seven of us had navigated through the station to the platform, the train was well on its way to Kendal without us. How I wished it was the Indian railways operating, where there is always the possibility of the train running a bit off schedule and there are no automatic doors slamming and shutting us out.

Idyllic Kendal
Anyhow we were then told to board a certain train to Preston from where we could take another train to Kendal, which we would reach an hour later from our schedule. Not really having much of a choice, we did as told and soon found ourselves with an hour in hand to explore the not-so-happening Preston station. Fruit Ninja (game) and cameras luckily kept us amused and in good spirits in the waiting room.

Several hours of sitting on the train later, we found ourselves in Kendal which calls itself a 'Market town' and 'Gateway to the Lake district'. I immediately liked the idyllic setting and 'deserted town' feeling but of course, we needed to get to the town of Coniston where promises of boat rides excited us.

As I have mentioned before, NONE of our plans have ever worked out as we would have liked. How could this be any different? There was just one bus service from Kendal to Coniston and that had left hours ago. A friendly Indian officer advised us to take a bus to Windermere and then to take another bus from there to Coniston.
By now, some of us (a certain Medic in particular) had begun to get agitated with our planning expertise. Empty stomachs and several minutes of waiting pointlessly for the bus did not exactly help in soothing nerves. Soon there were volcanic fissures running amidst us, and when the bus finally showed up at the stop, we all heaved sighs of relief.

Forty five minutes on the bus with sights of picturesque scenery dotted with chocolate box houses for visual treat, we found ourselves in Windermere where we decided to stay on and abort the Coniston plan. Windermere with its gigantic lake and winding roads running zig zag around houses on hills is quite a welcome change from the hustle bustle of Manchester. The blue skies with fluffy white clouds added a sort of fairytale effect to it.

Boat rides. ice cream cones. Poses for the camera.

And a whole box of memories to last quite a while.


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