Time had become a factor, as we knew it would. We had to drive from one country to the far south of another one in a day. Plus get some sight seeing done.
Fortunately this was the United Kingdom, where nothing is ever far from anywhere, and not Australia (where driving from one country to another is actually impossible). Unfortunately, this was the United Kingdom, where the population is three times that of Australia's. So the roads, as you've probably discovered in my other posts, are busy.
Setting out from just near Glasgow, we headed south with one goal in mind: make it to where the motorhome was to be returned the next morning. The only thing we planned to do on the way down was to meet up with family (the Watsons), who were headed north into Scotland. Having not seen each other since we left Paris, we spent quite a while exchanging stories about where we had been. An hour or so passed but we were still on track to make it to the campsite near Luton.
Then Dad had other ideas.
Namely a slight detour into the Lake District National Park (see the map). While it was in our path, it meant getting off the motorway and back among winding roads, much like we did the day before. In fact, the whole place looked fairly similar to the Scotland loch we had visited except for it being a lot more mountainous.
See what I mean? Very similar to Scotland. Except this was a lake, not a loch.
Some of the locals relaxing.
The tallest mountains I had probably seen, within memory, were Mt Bruce and Bluff Knoll. Both look tall because everything around them is small. The mountains in the Lake District looked tall simply because that is exactly what they are. They are massive, with the narrow country roads going down into valleys before rising up towards a gap between two mountains. From then on the road is held halfway up the mountainside. Quite a drive, but also time-consuming.
Quite a few of these pictures were taken out the window while we were driving - had to keep moving on south.
The gap between the mountain tops. The problems of driving a large motorhome only increased with the narrow, twisting roads.
Another beautiful summers day.
The way back down into the valley.
The detour cost us some time but it was worth it.
To cut a long story short, and also ruin the suspense that I've been trying to build up, we got to where we were going before sunset. However, it must have been about nine o'clock when we drove into the caravan park. It was a long day.
The next day we said farewell to the motorhome (it didn't reply) before heading to London-Luton Airport, destination Belfast.
Any posts on Belfast should be forthcoming so stay tuned for that. As an aside, I've typed out this post at university between lectures while suffering from quite-severe jet lag. That is to say, if there is anything that doesn't sense make then there is a perfectly legitimate reason for it not having made sense*.
Apart from the poor writing that may or may not be evident here, I hope you enjoyed the post, and if you did then please feel free to "like" and "share" it around on Facebook or whatever.
*That poorly structured sentence was actually on purpose (just for fun).
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