Depressed

Just when it couldn't get any worse, Carlisle reared it's ugly head. I could truthfully say Carlisle makes Okehampton look like a fluffy bunny. but back to the start of the day, still typically the north of England the rain poured from an overcast sky. After a reviving cup of tea where mum was still fuming about her parking ticket we drove across the motorway to a charming yet creepy national trust property high up in the lake district. It was part of a wild, stormy mountain valley up on the hillside. It belonged to ten generations dating back to the 1400s although it was just a cottage. Everything was made of dark mahogany and odd, weird shapes and grotesque faces were carved into it. Everywhere was slightly wonky and strange. We got out of there back into the drizzle pretty quickly and began our treacherous drive to Carlisle. The tom-tom chose a route high up the valley including heavy fog and sharp corners. Now everyone who knows mum will sympathise with me. When the shouting, increased stress and hitting the sat nav started I knew it was time to open the bag of S.D.E (sarah de-stress chocolate eclairs) and pop a few in her mouth to be on the safe side. Just being able to see the road did not help and we did not know wether it was a rocky, sharp cliff on the side of the road or just a harmless field with a few sheep. In that kind of situation it becomes easier to believe the first one (with some sharks and piranhas added in) finally we were greeted in Carlisle with some dank, depressing dark rooms, a massive youth hostel and spiders with a skyline of the Mcvities factory and some kebab shops by a main road. For the first time in my life I have seriously considered becoming a goth. Ah well, it can only get better!