I can hardly tell you how fortunate we have been not to be here for the last couple of days.
Last night’s storm-carnage is so shocking that it is entirely possible that the decision not to stay here and work might have saved our lives.
There are trees down all over the place, quite literally hundreds of them. Hawkshead alone has lost a hundred and fifty trees. In the past we have had some very scary moments, driving taxis in tree-uprooting storms, but I have never seen quite as much damage as this time. If we had been here we would certainly have been working, out around all of the tree-lined country lanes, and untold calamities might have happened. Indeed, one person was killed by a falling tree last night, and I am secretly surprised that it was only the one. It has been dreadful.
All of the roads still have trees lying across them even now – and I mean true ancient giants of trees, not just saplings, and there are fallen branches everywhere.
I am deeply, profoundly relieved not to have been in the thick of it.
Much of Bowness, although fortunately not our house, is still without electricity. Some of it has come back on in the last hour or two, but lots of places are still shrouded in silent darkness.
It seems that we have been considerably more fortunate than Oliver. At the time of writing Gordonstoun has had a whole day and night without electricity, and their power is not back on yet. It sounds as if Moray has been an exciting place to be.
They have got a generator running the canteen, so they are eating hot food, and the message we had from Oliver tells us that he is warm and happy and well-fed, but that he was writing with the last shreds of his phone battery, so he would see us on the other side. I imagine it must be quite thrilling, what a splendid adventure for everybody except probably the Headmaster. Lessons have been cancelled – of course they do classes on Saturdays – and board games in the dark seem to have been the plan for the evening.
It sounds to have been very exciting, but it has turned out all right. We are all still here, and our lives go on.
We woke up, as you know, in Manchester, after a gloriously extravagant evening of cinematic adventures and wine and a Chinese dinner long after everybody sensible had gone to bed. Then we collapsed into our warm camper van and listened to the nocturnal activities still squeaking along all around us, until we slept.
When we got up we did not want to go straight home. Originally we had thought we would explore the Christmas markets and meet my parents in the lovely Midland for coffee. In the event there were no trains running because of the fallen trees, which meant that they could not make it.
There was an icy wind, and we were very glad of our heavy wool greatcoats. We strolled around the markets and ate smoked pork sausages for breakfast, which were so gorgeous that they were quite worth the resulting indigestion. We rediscovered my friend with the cheese stall, and bought lots of different sorts of cheeses. We are going back to Manchester in a few weeks, so if there are any that we especially like we do not have to wait until next year but will be able to buy some more straight away.
So far I am quite impressed with one called Chip Shop Curry Flavour.
Marks & Spencer did not have any vests at all, much to my grave irritation. That is to say, they had some, you could choose between black and grey.
I have got plenty of grey vests already, so I gave up and we have ordered some on the mighty Internet.
As a last adventure before we left, we went to meet my sister and her little family, who were also milling around the Christmas markets, and whom I have not seen for absolutely ages.
We had hot whisky coffee laced with cream in the Midland whilst we were waiting. This made us feel very warm and contented in a wintery sort of way, how splendid to be out of the Arctic wind and curled in comfortable armchairs with alcohol mixed into your caffeine.
My niece is at university in Manchester, and hence has creative make up and interestingly coloured hair. I like to see this in young people, you have got to do it whilst you can because it looks ridiculous when you are fifty.
My sister has also bought a camper van, although she was not staying in it, and promised that one day she would come and visit us in the Lake District.
This would be splendid but probably better left until there is electricity and not so much firewood cluttering the roads up.
It is not a brilliant place to be just at the moment.
