Keith helped me make the decision in the end: the road versus the Dales Way. The road won. Except for the actual walking, I am not being a purist—about the Dales Way at least. The distance is similar, possibly a little shorter, but the road takes me places where I am more likely to find something (food, accommodation). That said, there was no food anywhere on the walking today and I am sitting in this Thai restaurant, with smells that are making me drool, unable to give them my order (may be the weird-person-on-their-own syndrome). No, there, order given. Oh my goodness, the table next door's starters just arrived—my stomach has started eating itself. But I do have a room. I tried for the Shakespeare, but ended up in the Rainbow Tavern. I'm in Kendal. It is quite large—first time since Manchester that I have seen all the banks, all the high street shops, even (gosh forbid) Subway, KFC and MacDonalds. (The toning down of rude language just sort of seems to happen here—only hooligans and thugs swear.) I arrived relatively early, but instead of looking around town I fell asleep under a super warm doona with Wesley (despite it sounding like water from everyone else's bathroom was going into mine, and despite the bed having a distinctly sunken feel and the sound of plastic under the sheets). It's friday night. The excessively styled and made-up are out and about. Snog, marry, avoid. I haven't been able to take a photo yet. Personally, I am going to bed again—no big night out on Kendal town for me. Sounds like I will hear it all through my window though.
Aside: We're not so different are we? Just seen girls running about barefoot with ridiculously high heels in their hands.
I like the English sun. It doesn't have the bite we have at home. I know my skin cells are still in trauma but it feels like a fall from a tricycle kind of trauma rather than a head-on car crash kind. I feel like I can get a tan. And even though I have only seen the sun about three times in the last, nearly, three weeks (wow!), I am actually getting one—on my hands. They are the only bit of exposed of skin I have had in all that time. Good look. Also on the skin front, Sandy, Keith's partner, has given me her bottle of Avon Bog Myrtle moisturiser—and no, it isn't called that, no-one would by it. It's called So Soft or something similar. I hope I never have to test it out, but if I do: take that midges! Chances are they may come nowhere near me anyway because although I have gained that toiletry item, I have managed to leave behind my shampoo at one B&B and my soap and soap box at another—by the time I get to Scotland I will be too smelly for midges.
Good night to Kendal (party-town), good night to you.