This is our last night in the Lake District. Our hotel is classic, it looks like a Lake District hotel should look-or at least the way I imagine it should look.

Panelled rooms, thick carpets, people drinking tea whilst sitting in comfy chairs and actually using the word ‘whilst’ in their sentences.

Everything about this place feels sumptious, but when it comes to functional items, they’ve put in the real deal. The shower is new glass and tile and the doors close solidly.  The spa downstairs is all brushed stainless steel, thick glass and gorgoeous tile. Apparently they spent a lot of money in the last little while sprucing it up.

I really get this whole tramping about lake district idea. Go for long rambling walks, come back for tea served in real china, steam in the sauna, followed by the ice room to cool off and then buff up for dinner. 

The studies just keep rolling in that getting out and about in nature is the cure to all our ills.  I swear I feel better just watching the swans float by. It’s all so Ye Old England but feels like a completely modern idea as well. Wordsworth lived nearby in Dove Cottage and his poems are timeless and true. 

“I wandered lonely as a cloud

that floats on high o’er vale and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils-

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.