That said, though; Kendal, what a lovely town!!! Hats off to Mum, she's picked a lovely one this time. We stayed at a lovely b+b called Balcony House, which had astonishing gardens (pitcher plants and cacti outside!), tasty breakfasts and came with free entry to a local spa (I got steamed!) -- and it was within easy wander of the river, castle, markets, organic pubs, Booths, etc.
Mum took us out to Ambleside, and, drawing on memories from her 60s visits to the Lakelands, dragged us up an unprepossessing sidestreet to an exquisite pub called the Golden Rule where we had snacks and beers enough to fortify ourselves for a wander up a classic run of waterfalls, popular since Victorian times and possessed of the ironwork to prove it -- grown into trees, where the fence had been secured many years ago. All up the waterfall (or "forces", as mum had it) new holiday homes had scabbed over the gorge sides, with tiny handkerchiefs of patio space hanging over the rapids, perfect for white noise picnics. The sun through the trees stabbed golden light at Wrens and Thrushes but no Dippers, despite mum's promises. There was a house over a river, though -- she was right about that. It had a duck under it, two Jackdaws perched on it, and a skulking juvenile Robin -- and they all wanted sandwiches.
In the evening we went out to the Mum's favourite posh foodie pub, The Sun, in Crook and we ate enough that I am still digesting, 24 hours later, as I watch the BBC proving that it is legal to hunt Jeremy Clarkson with dogs.
Holidays are good. But I'm home now.