Sunday August 11
Had a relaxed breakfast, looking out at the lake. A couple of families are here, and the children are being rowdy. Are you still allowed to beat children in this country?
We head out to Windermere, which is at the other end of the lake, on the ‘main road’ through the region. The road takes us around to the other side of the lake. It’s no where near as narrow or winding as the road in on the other side, so we make it in about 20 minutes. Sarah wants to restock on fresh fruit for the drive, but these villages just have no parking that foreigners can find. Cute wee village, but we must press on.
We are heading for Lyme Park, the stately home where some of the Pride and Prejudice series and movies were filmed.
The roads go from 8 lanes all the way down to one in places, with the speed limit constantly changing. The onboard GPS does a great job of ‘knowing’ what the current limit is, and it’s not too bad at recalculating the route if I misunderstand an instruction. Another cool feature, is that whenever there is a local traffic alert on the radio, the GPS just turns the radio on to that channel. When it’s over, the radio turns off. Clever. Did I mention that I like the HUD in this car?
So we eventually make it to Lyme park, only to be told that they are closed till tomorrow. Apparently, they have been closed for the last 11 days due to flooding damage. They expect to be open tomorrow. Well that’s a poo. The plan was for Lyme today, go to the pub near Chatsworth for the night, and we have tickets to see Chatsworth tomorrow.
I have a cunning plan. We will go to Chatsworth and see if we can do that this after. So off we go. This was also used to bring many Jane Austen books to life.
Damn, this is an impressive wee holiday house. We drive up to the parking kiosk, and pull to the side, upsetting the flow of traffic. I want to talk to the staff about changing days before I pay for parking. The nice lady makes a phone call, and we are good to go. As luck would have it, parking is free because we booked online. Nice.
We find a park among the masses, and make our way towards the house. I decide to make a pit stop at an adjacent building. When I come out, Sarah has discovered that this building, the original stables, has a shop and a couple of cafes. It seems that we are checking out the shop and having lunch before we go to the house. Alrighty then.
When we get to the house, the ticket guy printed the tickets linked to the order number on our printout. I tell him that the tickets show tomorrow. He just overwrites the date with his pen, and we’re good to go. Nobody else asks to see our tickets.
There are people, it must be said, who get slippery at the thought of a palatial mansion. The rooms, the servants, the furniture, the servants, the paintings, the servants, the grounds, and you guessed, the servants. Maybe they imagine themselves in a Jane Austen novel, but one with heating, plumbing and Sainsbury’s online delivery service. Oh, and everything else online as well. Natch!
Sarah ‘s one of those. She loves this shit. And, to be fair, this is probably the nicest one we’ve seen. I stick by my previous statement. Damned Impressive.
I managed to catch Sarah in a weak moment, and she let me buy an ornament for the house, in the house gift shop. I should bring her to houses like this more often.
Once we had done the house, it was just a matter of finding our hotel. We knew that it’s on the grounds of Chatsworth, but those are mighty big grounds. We are looking for a sign that says Devonshire Arms. As we are leaving, we see a signpost. I see a sign pointing left that says Devonshire Arms, Beeley, and some other places. So off I go to the left. Well!!🤦🏼♂️ Madam saw Devonshire Arms on the sign pointing to the right. It must be that way. I try to explain in a logical, quasi-Alpha manner, that they probably have two ways to get to the local pub. All roads lead to Rome, and to the local.
Oddly, we are not amused. CONSIDERABLY less than amused. For the sake of my sanity, I do a u-turn and go back to the sign. On the sign pointing right, I see Devonshire Arms, Pilsley, and some other places. My logic still stands, but I’m not prepared to punch the shark.
Just up the road and round the corner is the Devonshire Arms in the village of Pilsley. Cute. We check in, lug our bags upstairs (no elevator) , and head down for dinner.
I ask the waitress if there are any other Devonshire Arms in the area. Yes we have another on in Beeley. FUCK!!! I look at Sarah. Let’s just say that somewhere they’re missing about a dozen canaries. 🐈
At least the shark is gone.
Had a relaxed breakfast, looking out at the lake. A couple of families are here, and the children are being rowdy. Are you still allowed to beat children in this country?
We head out to Windermere, which is at the other end of the lake, on the ‘main road’ through the region. The road takes us around to the other side of the lake. It’s no where near as narrow or winding as the road in on the other side, so we make it in about 20 minutes. Sarah wants to restock on fresh fruit for the drive, but these villages just have no parking that foreigners can find. Cute wee village, but we must press on.
We are heading for Lyme Park, the stately home where some of the Pride and Prejudice series and movies were filmed.
The roads go from 8 lanes all the way down to one in places, with the speed limit constantly changing. The onboard GPS does a great job of ‘knowing’ what the current limit is, and it’s not too bad at recalculating the route if I misunderstand an instruction. Another cool feature, is that whenever there is a local traffic alert on the radio, the GPS just turns the radio on to that channel. When it’s over, the radio turns off. Clever. Did I mention that I like the HUD in this car?
So we eventually make it to Lyme park, only to be told that they are closed till tomorrow. Apparently, they have been closed for the last 11 days due to flooding damage. They expect to be open tomorrow. Well that’s a poo. The plan was for Lyme today, go to the pub near Chatsworth for the night, and we have tickets to see Chatsworth tomorrow.
I have a cunning plan. We will go to Chatsworth and see if we can do that this after. So off we go. This was also used to bring many Jane Austen books to life.
Damn, this is an impressive wee holiday house. We drive up to the parking kiosk, and pull to the side, upsetting the flow of traffic. I want to talk to the staff about changing days before I pay for parking. The nice lady makes a phone call, and we are good to go. As luck would have it, parking is free because we booked online. Nice.
We find a park among the masses, and make our way towards the house. I decide to make a pit stop at an adjacent building. When I come out, Sarah has discovered that this building, the original stables, has a shop and a couple of cafes. It seems that we are checking out the shop and having lunch before we go to the house. Alrighty then.
When we get to the house, the ticket guy printed the tickets linked to the order number on our printout. I tell him that the tickets show tomorrow. He just overwrites the date with his pen, and we’re good to go. Nobody else asks to see our tickets.
There are people, it must be said, who get slippery at the thought of a palatial mansion. The rooms, the servants, the furniture, the servants, the paintings, the servants, the grounds, and you guessed, the servants. Maybe they imagine themselves in a Jane Austen novel, but one with heating, plumbing and Sainsbury’s online delivery service. Oh, and everything else online as well. Natch!
Sarah ‘s one of those. She loves this shit. And, to be fair, this is probably the nicest one we’ve seen. I stick by my previous statement. Damned Impressive.
I managed to catch Sarah in a weak moment, and she let me buy an ornament for the house, in the house gift shop. I should bring her to houses like this more often.
Once we had done the house, it was just a matter of finding our hotel. We knew that it’s on the grounds of Chatsworth, but those are mighty big grounds. We are looking for a sign that says Devonshire Arms. As we are leaving, we see a signpost. I see a sign pointing left that says Devonshire Arms, Beeley, and some other places. So off I go to the left. Well!!🤦🏼♂️ Madam saw Devonshire Arms on the sign pointing to the right. It must be that way. I try to explain in a logical, quasi-Alpha manner, that they probably have two ways to get to the local pub. All roads lead to Rome, and to the local.
Oddly, we are not amused. CONSIDERABLY less than amused. For the sake of my sanity, I do a u-turn and go back to the sign. On the sign pointing right, I see Devonshire Arms, Pilsley, and some other places. My logic still stands, but I’m not prepared to punch the shark.
Just up the road and round the corner is the Devonshire Arms in the village of Pilsley. Cute. We check in, lug our bags upstairs (no elevator) , and head down for dinner.
I ask the waitress if there are any other Devonshire Arms in the area. Yes we have another on in Beeley. FUCK!!! I look at Sarah. Let’s just say that somewhere they’re missing about a dozen canaries. 🐈
At least the shark is gone.
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