A Traveller's Tale #19 Outward Bound & camping by stealth
Paddling one's own canoe, as Lord Baden Powell (founder of the Scouting movement) would put it, instils self-confidence and a love of adventure in anyone willing to risk the unfamiliar. My paternal grandfather was a scoutmaster and my father a lone scout. I imagine that the outdoors and self-reliance were very much part of my parents' upbringing in the northern reaches of New Zealand and probably explains why holidays for the Cape family were independent outdoors affairs rather than guided tours with formal accommodation.
I know that my passion for canoeing was triggered by visiting the Outward Bound school in Eskdale in August, 1962. I have a sea kayak, currently underused, in my backyard. It's a Sea Lion named "Pantherpaws" after one of my cats.
Touring the British Isles in 1962 in a 1948 Ford Anglia, camping, with white mice, the Cape family was on a mission to examine Britain's culture, art and history.
I take up my father Peter's account a month out from London as we leave Wales and enter Chester. Abbreviation key - ph = photographed, photo or photos.
Reasonable start – away into Chester by 10. Ring COI (Central Office of Information) in Manchester and discover not appointment until tomorrow. Spend day in Chester – The Rows (2 storey shopping arcades in Tudor buildings).
Interesting walls and cathedral. Ph much, then out to find, with much difficulty, camp 12 miles from Manchester.
Cold night but an early start and into Manchester at 10. Talked to head of Youth Services for 2 hours – rushed to bank – bank has mislaid new batch of travellers cheques – panic – cheques found – rush back to car for cup of coffee, then drive to Calico Printers Association. 20 minutes late because of 1–way streets. Shown Cepea and Grafton fabrics, then drive out to mill to see processes. Smelly but interesting. Left at 5, back to shop, then out to camp. Got into reservoir district, but found non-notice area to camp: easy. 2 hrs later ex-policeman-gamekeeper comes to tell us to shift, says police will do it anyway. Drop names of COI, IRT, CRO and he let us stay.
Ph camp and moors.
Wrote letters and cheques. Claim for £30-13-0 sent.
[It's good to know who one's friends are. COI , the Central Office of Information. IRT, the Imperial Relations Trust, CRO, probably the Commonwealth Relations Office. In his report to the Imperial Relations Trust, which he wrote after returning to New Zealand, my father mentioned this English deference to perceived authority].
August 18, 1962, Saturday Up early after a cold night, and away by 9.30. Into Hyde to find laundromat and car grease (woman in laundromat difficult because we have 24 lbs of clothes: take two machines and fill them, and carry out 2 shirts looking like 6lbs of washing). Shopped and went to Ashton-Under-Lyne. Water Week fun fair. (Ph). Nothing more than an A&P show fair. Circumnavigated Manchester (Ph houses and streets) then north. Tea (English style) in a rubbish tip, then north again. Dodged Lancaster and into hills again. Grange Over Sands (over mudflats – biggest I've ever seen) pleasant but craftsman we called to see out. Drove to Windermere, and found camping place under chestnuts.
August 19, 1962, Sunday Awoken at six by bloody English camping next door. Then slept in until 9! Slow start, watching sights – cyclists – man with beard and six young girls, walking – man overladen with pants, and girlfriend carrying small handbag. Off by 11.30, to Lake Windermere for lunch (ph) then a run up to Bowness, Ambleside (ph) and Grasmere. Down big Lowis (ph an anonymous lake on the way) to Broughton – where the rain starts – and up to Eskdale. Called at Outward Bound school where we're due tomorrow and Warden suggest we camp in grounds. We do. After dinner, we spend pleasant evening in his flat.
August 20, 1962, Monday Spent entire day at school. Assembly, reading, and prayers: canoe – reserve competitions, also wall and beam climbing by patrols (10 to a patrol: 9 patrols). Lunched at school. Then attended final briefing for 3-day "scheme" during which groups of 4 boys will tramp and bivouac on fells. Pleasant, quiet day, with unquiet evening at party thrown by temporary instructors before their going home. The most important thing in any human relationship is the avoidance of static attitudes.
August 21, 1962, Tuesday To bed at 2. Up at 8.30 (in spite of noise of boys leaving on final 3-day, 4-man scheme. Packed and away by 11. North by way of Calder Hall atom power station (ph) to Cockermouth (ph) then inland by Lake Bassenthwaite (ph) to Keswick (ph). Shopped and searched for campsite. National Trust plainly exists to preserve land only for the wealthy, or for people who can afford to stay in hotels. Lovely places to live among for a day or so, but everything plastered with "No Camping" signs. Depressing – patricians and tramps do as much damage, make as much litter, and use bushes as toilets as much as campers do. Camped, despising English, by roadside on other side lakeside.
August 22, 1962, Wednesday A wet and windy night: Barbara with neuralgias. Dinner and Bed late in the wind and rain, so up late in the morning. Away by 10.30. Saw BC 1500 Castlerigg (stone) circle (ph) smaller than Hurlers (stone circle) in Cornwall, but better preserved. Into Keswick again for shopping, then out to Lakeside Crafts Studio to buy facsimile carving of dormouse on wheat. Looked at Derwent Water (ph) then to Keswick School of Industrial crafts.
Originally founded to provide employment for men in winter; now a group of craftsmen working in stainless steel, copper and silver. Bought s/steel spoon. Out of Keswick to (ph) ….mere, then ph farm and mountain picture. Finally, passing out of Cumberland and into Westmorland, found quite empty camping area on moorland. Windy, but camped. Wind gets worse, and we have to use shrimpnet struts (bought in Penzance) as centre pole.
[We must have been travelling on the A591 from Keswick beside Lake Thirlmere and Wordsworth-Grasmere which is the former home of poet William Wordsworth. Famous for his poem "Daffodils", he also wrote "Home at Grasmere" describing this area].
August 23, 1962, Thursday Halfway through the night the wind changes and blows in tent door. We have just got up when rain starts. Hard. Packing extremely difficult. I get soaked: ground turns to swamp, with pools of water under tent floor. Away by 11 and into Ambleside (quaint English going to Grasmere sports!). See "Potter and Wheel" studio and see slip-engraving process and jigger throwing. Good "popular" pottery. Bought anoraks at Ambleside mountain shop, and on to Kendal in pouring rain, can't find horn factory, so back to Windermere and up Kirkstone Pass (ph.) and down to Ullswater. Wet all the way but ph. lake. On to side road: ask at farm for water, and they let us camp in field. Has been wartime tank area, so vast acreage of concrete. Pitch tent in wrong place (land belonging to Lord Lansdale) so pick up boarding - toss over fence into right field.
[So there you have it – the colonial wit chucking off the yoke of the stuffy imperial ruling class. Up the workers! And still I wonder if the rain will ever stop. It did, eventually.]