Friends, Beer, and another Wet Bed

On Thursday I picked up Dom, a Symi pal, at Preston station and hightailed it up the M6 to Keswick where we were meeting other Symi friends for a Northern Reunion. Dom hadn't been as far north as Lancashire before so he kept an anxious eye out for the dragons which were apparently mentioned on his maps. No fearsome beasts were spotted, only rain and some fearsome drivers. The weather being miserable with limited visibility there wasn't much point in taking the scenic route through Kendal and Windermere but we did call in at the Rheged Centre near Penrith for some refreshment and, as I am a gentleman of a certain age, a "comfort" stop. We arrived at Keswick shortly after, checked into the hotel  and then repaired to the bar to meet the other arrivals. After the usual greetings melee and a few libations of ale we decamped to the hotel across the road as the cask ale had run out.

Thursday evening continued with a sumptuous repast of fish & chips. There was something familiar about the restaurant owner's wife - she was a Greek Cypriot. Now the chances of the Greeks having penetrated as far as the English lakes are pretty slim and the chances of a Symi Reunion mob encountering them are even slimmer. Slimming, however, had nothing to do with the burgeoning plates of fish & chips. The evening continued with more excellent ale. My evening, however, was cut short by an attack of Monteczuma's Revenge which resulted in my spending more time in the bathroom than I would normally wish. Feeling very tired and  washed out I retired to bed only to wake up a few hours later to find the bed sheets soaked. No, dear reader it was not what you think. I was running a temperature and it seemed had sweated out all the ale consumed previously. This set the scene for the rest of the get-together. Kojak had an upset tummy and wet the bed at night... with perspiration only!

Friday dawned cold but bright and sunny and our intrepid crew set off on a cruise around Derwentwater. There was not a breath of wind and the lake was as smooth as a mirror. Given good weather I think there are very few places quite as beautiful.

An added bonus to the reunion was that Keswick was hosting a food festival. The main street was lined with stalls and our nostrils were assailed with tempting aromas. My gippy tummy did not prevent me from sampling local cheeses, pasties, cakes etc. One advantage of the icy cold weather was that my car boot substituted as a very effective fridge for my purchases. Friday night was also the night that the Christmas lights were switched on. Our hotel was perfectly placed to watch the proceedings in comfort. It was a stroke of pure luck that we selected that particular date when it was all happening.

Saturday dawned fine and sunny after yet another night of hot & cold shivers and soggy sheets . By now, Kojak was beginning to feel under the weather. I gave up breakfast after a bowl of cereal, the plate of scrambled eggs the waitress was persistent in serving me was left largely untouched. I got through the goodbyes and made a final circuit of the shops and stalls with Dom before setting off on the return journey.

The skies were beginning to cloud over as we left but it was sufficiently clear for us to return via the scenic route. Dom had only seen one lake so far so he was able to notch up Grasmere, Thirlmere and Windermere, albeit from the car. The roads were surprisingly clear as we were headed in the opposite direction to most. A brief but necessary "comfort" stop at Kendal brought us back into heavy traffic for the first time but we managed to extract ourselves without incident. Kendal had been the first idea for a reunion but after seeing how busy it was I was thankful we had chosen Keswick. An uneventful journey brought us down to Preston in good time for Dom's train, which was just as well because parking near the station proved impossible. Preston was also switching on it's Christmas lights and the town was heaving. We eventually managed to park well away from the station and settled for a leisurely coffee before retrieving Dom's bag from the car and walking to the train.

Driving home I felt more and more unwell. My house-sitter, Liz had not become wedged between the bed base on the landing as I feared and soothed my fevered brow with a very welcome cup of tea. I wasn't up to accompanying Liz to the pantomime staged by friends and retired to bed at 6.30pm leaving my bag unpacked. Sunday passed very quietly, Liz left at lunchtime and I managed to eat half a boiled egg. Monday morning began with another surveillance of the evil bin men, it being recycling day involving three different collections. I was impressed by the smooth transition from a throwing motion to a carefully replaced box once my presence had been clocked. This was obviously a practised movement.... I am clearly not alone in this war of attrition. On a brighter note, the firm I purchased the bed from once again agreed a refund . I in turn, now await a collection date before beginning the hunt for a bed once again.