Tarn Hows

Day 4: On which we journeyed in ever decreasing circles to Tarn Hows and I was the only person not feeling terribly car sick by the time we reached our destination.

Poor Big Bloke. Although the last time he felt car sick was in 1974, he suffered greatly both there and back. The drive was beautiful, taking in Coniston Water, but he saw none of it. The road kept getting narrower and ever more impossibly narrower, and twistier and ever more possibly twinier all the way. Still, on the plus side I got to eat picnic for four people.

Tarn Hows was a huge disappointment to me after all that. Big Bloke and I went on our first holiday to the Lakes 21 years ago and we both remembered it as a breathtakingly beautiful, lonely place. It is still beautiful, but now has a gravel path set out all the way around the tarn and is stuffed full of holidaymakers in search of their own private bit of heaven. I guess you should never go back, especially to a place you visited in the first throws of true love. Pass the sick bag, darling.