Brief Pickle Road Report

That all I've eaten save supper during the last few days are scones with jam and clotted cream, and I've consumed enough tea since Friday to float a boat. That we've had enormous fun in Lancaster, Cleveleys, and to the Lake District (to Bowness-on-Windemere, where Stuart rowed me in a boat and quothed original poetry, and Hawkshead, where more scones were eaten and a man was noted on his tombstone as "an observer of rainfall"). I have started a tea towel collection. The road into Hawkshead was so narrow we thought death was imminent, and everyone behind me honked as I had to stop whenever another car passed by. That we walked home yesterday skipping stones and collecting interesting pebbles. That it never rains in the North of England. That I haven't driven into a hedge, stone wall or another vehicle, but I've driven into the curb, twice. That I have watched EastEnders and Two Pints. That I closed my English bank account and got £14. That both of us are going to come home with those famous Northern English sunburns. Tomorrow we're off to Skipton.