North Western Lakes

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Crag Rat, Tarzan impressions, Vikings and Britain’s favourite view

The Northern Lake District, empty, austerely lovely, delightfully unspoilt, is a world away from the traditional image of the Lakes. Reluctantly dragging myself out of the sumptuous king-size bed and down to the open-plan sitting room of the lovingly converted farmhand’s annex known as Ann’s Hill, I breakfasted on home-made peach muffins, brioche and fruit platters. Delivered by the owner of this opulent establishment, Vanessa Steel, Cumbria’s new ‘luxury in a farm’ had been brought to my attention by a glowing review in the travel section of The Sunday Observer a few weeks previously.

So comfortable was I that I could happily have put my feet up all day, but eventually stirring myself I trotted off towards the bustling market town of Cockermouth, a gem of a place with a wide, handsome main thoroughfare lined with quirky shops and cracking little pubs. And it wasn’t long before I found myself standing outside the wooden gateway to William Wordsworth’s place of birth.

“Described by Sir Nikolaus Pevsner as ‘quite a swagger house for such a town’, Wordsworth’s House is still an impressive edifice and certainly the grandest building in the town today. Inside the house I was drawn towards the Georgian kitchen from which industrious sounds emanated. Poking my head around the door I discovered a hive of activity with a number of Wordsworth’s servants busily going about their daily chores. Invited to sample a number of recipes popular from that period, I wholeheartedly tucked in.“

Taste buds suitably tantalised, the maid then suggested I lend a hand with the housework at which point I reminded her that the manservant of the house was required to do much less than the maids. Of course, my retort didn’t go down too well, and with the risk of pots and pans being flung my way I quickly scarpered. Taking refuge in the garden and peering out over the Derwent from the terraced walkway that overlooks the river at the rear of the garden, it wasn’t hard to understand why Wordsworth looked back so fondly on the childhood years he spent here. It must have been quite magical.

Strolling back towards the house through the peaceful walled gardens, my nostrils detected a familiar scent permeating the air. It wasn’t the scent of flowers, fruit or herbs, but hops. Beer hops. Cockermouth is home to the famous Jennings Brewery which proudly creates a range of superb Lakeland ales including Cumberland Ale, the light and luscious Crag Rat and the dark and fearsome winter brew Sneck Lifter which will certainly separate the men from the boys. Pop into one of the many pubs that litter this beautiful part of the country and it’s highly likely that you’ll find me at the end of the bar nestling a pint of one of the aforementioned nectars.

With the time approaching eleven and the brewery tour about to get underway, I followed the beery scent along Main Street and up to where the rivers Cocker and Derwent converge. Here I was given a fascinating insight into the brewing process culminating in savouring a pint of Sneck Lifter in the atmospheric Old Cooperage bar. I was definitely in hops heaven. Chatting to a number of people in the bar who’d joined me on the tour, I was persuaded to accompany them back at their hotel for a bite to eat. And with a lift in their car thrown into the bargain, how could I refuse? My lunchtime companions were residing at The Pheasant; it’s a charming old coaching inn close to the stunning, quiet and very much unspoilt Bassenthwaite Lake. Bassenthwaite locals will tell you it’s the only lake in the Lake District; the rest are meres or waters as their names include. Here, in what has become a gourmet destination, I enjoyed the fabulous smoked Achiltibuie salmon.