Woolly says – With our bellies full to bursting we said a reluctant goodbye to our lovely hosts and set off on our journey back. We had decided to make two stops to break the journey, driving through the wonderful views for the last time passing many of the places we had already stopped at I felt sad to be leaving a place of such outstanding beauty. We pulled into Hawkshead a small village based north of Esthwaite Water, in a valley to the west of Windermere and east of Coniston Water.
Originally owned by the monks of Furness Abbey it grew to be an important wool market in medieval times and later as a market town after the Dissolution of the Monasteries in 1532. It was granted its first market charter by King James I in 1608. William Wordsworth was educated at Hawkshead Grammar School, whilst Beatrix Potter lived nearby, we had looked at visiting Ms Potters adobe but sadly it was closed for the season.
Small houses and local businesses lined the tiny roads and looking down on the area was the pretty church of St Michael & All Angels.
Built in around 1300 on the site of a Norse Chapel, the current building is mainly from the 16th and 17th century. Inside was a simple place with a wooden ceiling and enough pews to allow the whole village to sit down. The walls and arches were painted in muted tones which had been beautifully done while commentative plagues hung high above us.
The stained-glass windows were lovely and where plain glass had been used you could see the wonderful views across the village and beyond.
As we wandered on through the town, we passed Wordsworth Street which had once been called Leather, Rag and Putty Street, a rather long name for such a small road.
With a warming coffee and a piece of rich chocolate cake to keep our strength up we headed back to the car and onwards in our journey. I was intrigued by our next stop, something that Jo had found in her research and I was looking forward to seeing what the Fairy Steps might offer.
The ‘Fairy Steps’ are a narrow passage that squeezes between two sheer rock faces via a flight of natural stone stairs it is named because of a legend. Supposedly, if you climb or descend the steps without touching the limestone sides of the narrow gully, the fairies will grant your wish.
Woolly says – How many wishes would I get I wondered as surely it must be easy enough to get through as once villagers had transported coffins up to the higher level using these steps. Having parked the car after a bit of toing and froing we were finally walking through a lovely woodland area where Alfie the Dog raced through the trees seeing how many leaves he could crunch beneath his paws.
The walk to the steps was lovely and I remained confident that the steps would not defeat me. As we reached the top of the rock race I peered through the narrow tunnel and realised that even at my size it might be tricky, breathing in I set off downwards as my career and the mutt took the more conventional pathway.
I quickly started to regret having had the earlier cake as the crevice was a lot smaller than I had thought but with keeping my tusks tucked in close I made it through to find the other two waiting at the bottom.
I stood looking up at the route the mammoth had taken and wondered why the village folk hadn’t just taken the coffins up the easy path that I had used, strange behaviour and they must have had their reasons.
Woolly says – No fairies had appeared and as we made our way back it seemed that none were likely to so a bit of a swizz in my book. The walk however was lovely and as we approached the road once more, we paused to chat to two nice gents who were on their way to the steps, I told them that any fairies they saw were mine and they needed to send them onto me. With our small excursions completed we climbed back into the car and set off with the barking tones of Alfie ringing in our ears back to Wales.