Crossing Water - Windermere

I have crossed the English Channel many times en route to events on the near continent, including a  memorable overnight crossing to Rotterdam on a visit to see my eldest brother's family who were living near Munich. On that occasion we journeyed in my brother-in-law's Range Rover to Austria for a skiing holiday in Kaprun. Although we had four young children with us, I managed to find a great bier hall with a dance floor. I was a very popular partner and danced away most evenings. Unfortunately, I was usually too tired to ski - I didn't really like the cold anyway.

One particularly enjoyable crossing was on Lake Lucerne to a small island called Landau - a space locked in time, with only horse-drawn carriages to transport you. I can thoroughly recommend the experience.

I grew up in a country pub and my parents had some great customers. Sidney Rhodes was an adventurer who raced Bugatti sports cars in his youth. He was also an industrialist who built the first fuel-injection plant in the UK. Sidney invested in his leisure time too, and was the proud owner of a cabin cruiser and a small Edwardian steamer, both kept on Lake Windermere.

I was lucky enough to be invited on several occasions to sail on the steamer 'Otto', a glorious boat, bedecked with copper steam kettles and beautiful decoration. Sidney's wife Ethel was a stickler and no trip on 'Otto' was complete without a huge amount of polishing, amply rewarded by a wonderful tea. At the time I probably didn't realise just how lucky I was. There were so few privately owned steamers on Windermere. It was almost like an Arthur Ransome story.

When Sidney died, Ethel donated 'Otto' to the Lake District Steamboat Museum where the boat remains and is on show to the public. I intend visiting soon to rekindle very happy childhood memories. Here is a link to the museum's web site: Windermere Boats

The elegant 'Otto'

“The klop, klop of water

under the bows

of a small boat will cure

most troubles in this world.”

Arthur Ransome

Thanks for reading, Adele 

 

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Literary merit: Adventure beckons.

I am the youngest child of four, by a gap of seven years and born into an extrovert, bustling environment.  My eldest brother played rugby and swam for County; my sister was a ballerina: my youngest brother was a bike mad, pain in the proverbial. My parents were publicans, always pushed for time, busy in the kitchen or bar until late in the evening.  I might have been the neglected, late arrival but lucky for me ... we had Nana. No, not the large sheep dog, child-minder of AA Milne's imagined story but a real life, elderly lady called Phyllis: My maternal grandmother.  Nana lived with us.

Nana was a godsend to all of us, although she was (according to the others), very strict, I loved her. She was the eldest of three children and was fortunate.  Her parents were wealthy, so although she was born in  the very late 19th Century, she was educated and then taught dance, pianoforte, etiquette and deportment at a girl's boarding school in Windermere. At 38 and unmarried, she had a daughter, (my mother), and although she was running the family guest house in Bowness, her younger brother sent her away to London before the birth.  This was 1920: the times were changing, but unfortunately not quickly enough, for Phyllis, who had to take a post as governess to the children of the owners of a hat shop in the West End.  My mother was 'cared for' by Nun's.

Nana taught me to read.  She shared with me her love of the 23rd Psalm, Wordsworth's 'golden daffodils' and Keats Ode to a nightingale. She would take me for imagined walks, along the banks of her beloved Windermere, among the bluebells, just by looking at the picture on her bedroom wall. She loved birds, knew the Latin name of every plant and flower and laughed at chimpanzees and Elephants. We didn't have a piano then, so she would sing with me, dance with me and teach me to stand and sit up straight. Nana gave me most of the gifts that I treasure most. Best of all she gave me her time, the most precious gift of all.  I was encouraged to read everything that had literary merit. When I began reading for myself, I began a lifelong adventure.  Who knows where it will end ...




 

The library at Ephesus.

 

A Literary Journey

 

Opening a book is exploration

Start to read and who knows what I’ll find.

In each printed tome, each timeworn binding,

lies a snare to captivate the mind.

 

If I sit and study ancient volumes,

read adventure history and crime,

brave a New World sci-fi speculation,

dip in A Brief History of Time,

will I only browse the lives of others,

those who reach beyond the libr’y wall,

or will I grow wise,  as any elder,

eager for when destiny may call?

 

Reading takes me on a flight of fancy,

lets me live a thousand, million lives,

opens wonders of imagination,

helps me venture far beyond the skies.

 

Like the great explorers, I must travel,

seek the place where steps are seldom heard,

open up the cover of discovery.

All great journeys start with just one word.

Thanks for reading.  Adele

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