On Pod Camping and Fell Walking

We set off with the full intention of pitching our tent and sleeping under canvas for the weekend but when we arrived at the site, which is situated on a working farm at the foot of a forest, we discovered that the pods had landed.

A pod is basically an empty wooden hut.  All camping gear is required apart from the tent.  My daughter says they look like huge hazelnut shells.  They are charming little things and when they’re tucked into lush woodland, they really do look quite enchanting so we just couldn’t resist. Of course, me being an eco-pain in the arse, I had to ask the crucial footprint question.  I found out that the wood used is usually sourced locally and that the pods can be expected to give a long life of service.  But when they do finally start to wither (and here’s the best thing), every bit of material can be recycled or re-used.  Can’t ask for more than that I guess.

There were three of these pods on site and as luck would have it, one of them was available so we took occupancy and had a thoroughly great time.

On the Sunday, we climbed Catbells which I’ll have you know, is no trivial thing.

A view from the descent of Catbells.

We’ve done most of the main fells in the Lakes and let me tell you that Catbells is a bit of a toughie.  Well shall we say, t’is rather challenging in places.  Not as challenging as when we did Scafell, the highest mountain in England.  Twice!  In one day!!  No really!  You see, the two ego’s, they were arguing over the map-reading . . . about who was right and who was wrong.  And because none of them would admit they were wrong, we ended up going down the wrong side of the mountain so we had to climb back up it to go down the correct way.  I kid you not!  You can imagine how I was regretting my lack of compass skills.  I vowed there and then to learn how to map-read.

Fell walking is a very Earth-spiritual experience.  For sure, it can be laborious because you need to be well-equipped for the swift changes in weather.  And it’s often arduous and can make you sweat like a pig.  Usually, my face is so red that I risk being mistaken for a Mountain Rescue beacon.  But in spite of all that, when you reach the top and see the views, it’s a wordless and breathe-taking feeling and the sense of achievement is liberating.  The descent is often more difficult than the climb.  Leg muscles turn into quivering jelly and the ankles are harshly punished but when you get onto the straight path back to your car, the feeling of relief and fulfillment is priceless.

Anyway, all in all, it has been a glorious weekend of blue skies and dazzling sunshine, beautiful lakes and magnificent hills, sleepy farm animals and charming woodland.  And to our delight, the farm had four gorgeous and very playful Border Collie puppies.

For our next camping trip, we are going for the Mongolian lifestyle and staying in a Yurt.