The Carlisle Trip

The proximity of station and hotel

view from station

I had three days between Carnival and the beginning of term. A familiar theme. I chosen Carlisle so I could go on the Settle to Carlisle railway and go over the Ribblehead Viaduct, but failed to spot the Northern Railway workers strike on the chosen day of my return! 

I wasn't expecting to have a view of said viaduct, However spotting a fellow-traveller, a sputnik, with a camera, I pestered him and the guard, maybe irritated the other passengers, and managed this shot of it. Ace!

Ribblehead Viaduct from the train

Pen-y-Ghent

The Hallmark Hotel was ten paces from the station entrance, and my hotel window looked out onto the station bar. The bar was mostly unopen but it was a nice concept.

The plan was to write, catch up blogs and the like. I made the first of many cups of tea and started to write. 

After a while I went for a walk, deciding to find the Waterfront, crossing the river, but there was no waterfront only deserted streets, a gym, and a long hose across the road, leaking spurting water. It was a bit spooky, I hurried back and ordered the mushroom pasta with asparagus sauce, and delicious.


Unfortunately I also  "treated " myself to a white wine, but it laid me low, and I passed out for an hour until I felt awake enough to write some more. Each blog was a labour of love, as I recalled Foxwood exploits from Unity to Pride to Manchester and Leeds Carnivals and Northern Ballet summer school. 

eat this all in go!

Next day I found the wonderful Script and ate a the perfect but overlarge breakfast., while listening to the classical busker.


Exhausted by the the portion size I staggered round town, then returned to the hotel for more writing and picture cropping. As I was on holiday, decided against too much art architecture and history as any form of entertainment, and found an ice cream parlour.

classical busker. Ace

mirror at top lof lift

I also found some industrial outside lifts which took you [me] from street to rampart and from rampart to street. With a mirror in the ceiling. As you can see.

Next day back to the Script for a half size breakfast, then over to the station and the train home sadly via Manchester Piccadilly, scene of my previous infamy.