Trails and trials of the writer who walks
Shortly after that rocky road, the path dropped down to Maize Beck and I found a sheltered little hollow with its own running water. I call these ‘dingly dells’. You can see the sheep like them too. It was not yet 6 pm but the mist and gloom made it feel much later. Despite the protection of the ‘dingly dell’, the tent was well buffeted and sleep intermittent
Today brought clear skies and a pleasant walk over High Cup Nick to Dufton where I bought bacon and brie panninis from the deli (to save for supper) and waited for the pub to open at 12. There, I enjoyed a balanced square meal (camping food doesn’t feature much five-a-day), knowing that the next night’s lodging would be somewhere around Cross Fell with more buffeting, minus the buffet.