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Loadstar Anthology x Another Place
In a landscape as inspiring as the Lake District, it's easy to see why author and Lodestar Anthology founder and editor, Liz Schaffer, dedicated a whole chapter to it in her new book, Slow Travel Britain. Our hotel gets a special mention, as does our latest hotel, Another Place, The Machrie, in a chapter all about the Hebridean island of Islay. Below is an excerpt taken from the book.
Lake District
I don’t think I’d ever been surrounded by so much green. At my feet was a bed of bracken and moss, and above me firs, pines and cedars were woven into a thick canopy. Armed with a camera (and long legs), my friend had powered ahead, so when I reached the woodland enveloped Aira Force, a roaring, 65-foot waterfall, I stood alone in stunned silence. It was strange to think that this scene had barely changed since it inspired William Wordsworth’s The Somnambulist, a poem about love, tragedy and the enduring power of nature.
At the summit, looking out to the Pennines, the glacial lake of Ullswater stretched out below us, words didn’t feel necessary. We were entirely absorbed in the landscape, the drama and immensity almost all-consuming. This is what I’d come to the Lake District for – to let nature slow me down.
My friend had continued uphill and, being considerably more daring than me, shimmied down a rock, draped his camera from a convenient, low-hanging branch and was bobbing contentedly in an icy black pool. We all find our own ways to commune with the natural world, and I opted for an easier method by lying with my eyes closed in the sun, allowing the water’s patter to harmonise with the wind. Revived and a little sun-drunk, we walked on together, yet our conversation faded as gnarled oaks and ash gave way to the heather and fern that crown the wind-blasted Gowbarrow Hill, which the 4-mile track we were following loops over.
Covering more than 880 square miles, the Lake District, England’s largest National Park, is defined by its waterways. Bestowed with UNESCO World Heritage status in 2017, the Park’s western edge is a place of extremes. It is home to Wastwater, England’s deepest lake, and Scafell Pike, the country’s highest peak.
You can swim in Blea Tarn, which took shape during the last Ice Age, or follow the Eskdale Trail to seaside Ravenglass, a Roman naval base-turned coastal hamlet. Windermere is further south and scattered with 19 islands. As one of Britain’s largest lakes, it is probably the most recognisable of the National Park’s 16 named bodies of water, but it’s easy to avoid the crowds by biking through the sculpture-dotted Grizedale Forest or walking up to Orrest Head. Lured by a sense of nostalgia and the aforementioned glorious sites, the Lake District is a place I keep coming back to. I first visited as a child on a Peter Rabbit pilgrimage (this was Beatrix Potter’s stomping ground) and returned for countless rainy fell walks as a university student.
This time though, with slowing down my goal, I ignored the urge to explore and spent my time perfectly content beside a single lake. I settled on just one fabulous excursion (the Aira Force and Gowbarrow hike) to sate my itchy feet, yet the following days would involve doing very little indeed. This time, I’d let the Lake District work its magic by being a backdrop, and a backdrop alone.
And so, with my friend bound for London, I made the 7-mile-long Ullswater my solo base – the decision swayed, in part, by the fact that it moved Wordsworth to write I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud, an ode to memory and Lakeland beauty. As a literature nerd, keen to see the landscape as Wordsworth did, how could I refuse a pilgrimage? During the day, the glacial lake is crisscrossed by Ullswater Steamers, stoic wooden ferries that deliver walkers to various stops along the Ullswater Way trail. There are paddleboarders, wild swimmers (Sandwick and Mossdale Bay are particularly beautiful places for a dip) and sunset chasers with the Hallin Fell summit in their sights.
But I was ensconced in Another Place, The Lake, a family-friendly boutique hotel on the lake’s western shore. I drifted from reading in bed to strolling through the kitchen garden and remembered how glorious it is to do nothing but float, especially in a glass-encased pool. What surprised me most about the experience was just how easy it was to find contentment. This unwinding was out of character for me, but I’d put much-needed limits on what I should see and experience and assured myself that no one would mind if I came home without a photo of Derwentwater. All I had to do was appreciate the world beyond my window.
A key part of slowing down is learning to be at ease with doing less. The urge to see it all is strong; I so often feel a need to clamber up fells or circumnavigate a lake, to fill every minute. But I not only survived my time chilling out; I thrived, returning home more rested than I’d been in months. So let this be a reminder that you don’t need to tick things off the travel bucket list at breakneck speed. Instead, try returning to a place you adore and picking a single walk, confident that it will be enough to re-forge a connection. The rest of the time you can simply drink a cocktail, roast a marshmallow or bob in a lake – have an actual holiday.
From the blog
We caught up with large-scale printmaker, abstract painter, lecturer and sketchbook enthusiast, Emma Carlisle to talk about her recent residency at Another Place, The Lake
We caught up with Emma Carlisle before here Artist’s Residency here at Another Place, The Lake, this May, to talk about her ever-evolving practice, nature as a tonic and what she’s bringing to the Lakes.