Arriving in Carlisle


10pm – Becky’s House, Carlisle

Well, we can mark riding on a train off my list of things to do in my lifetime. The trip from Edinburgh to Carlisle only took about an hour, but we went through some truly beautiful country. Lots of rolling green hills with mountains in the distance and low-hanging gray clouds on all sides. And evergreen trees. Andy and I commented that we’ve never seen rural Scotland portrayed with evergreen trees, but there seem to be a lot of them.

And sheep. Lots of sheep. Fluffy white monsters that cover the green hillsides like bits of dandelion fluff.

Originally, we’d been planning to stay with Katie’s host family, but due to some scheduling conflicts it was going to be a tight fit with all of us and their daughters at home. However, Katie’s boss is out on home assignment and generously offered her home for our use. So Andy and I are nicely established in an adorable little house about a fifteen minute walk from where Katie lives.

It’s really cute. I’ll try to put up photos soon. A nice living room. A spacious kitchen. And a bathroom upstairs with two bedrooms and an office. I’m currently sitting in a marvelous chair (called the commitment chair, because if you’re going to sit in it you have to be commited to sitting because it takes so much trouble to get out of). On the walk back, we decided we were hungry, and Andy offered to hike down to the market and get something snacky for dinner.

Katie’s boss has a freezer of food, but we just can’t bring ourselves to eat it. It’s already so much that she’s letting us use her house while she’s not here. That’s so kind of her. And we really aren’t hungry enough for a full meal.

So I’m hoping that Andy remembers where the store was … but he’s a human compass, so I’m sure he’ll be fine. But his hat seems to be drawing quite a lot of attention. I guess native folks of Carlisle don’t often see tall, skinny, bearded dudes with long curly hair in fedoras walking down their sidewalks. There was some lady on this street that kept whistling at him and shouting “Hey, sexy!” as we walked to the house.

I don’t like her. Don’t know her. But I don’t like her. Just saying.

This house has a beautiful little garden behind it. I may see if I can figure out the tea pot or the coffee pot in the morning and go outside if I feel like it. We’re meeting Katie at her place around 9am and will be getting a ride to her church, Vineyard, for a fellowship meal kind of thing before we head up to Hadrian’s Wall. Then, hopefully, we might grab dinner at a pub before we crash in a boneless heap.

Lessons from Sparky:

The only person who would call him “sexy” is a drunk woman on a sketchy street.

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