AS THE RAIN is forecast to last all day and most of the night, we amble around Bowness
and Windermere, tasting the tapas at the Bodega bar, browsing the bookshops and sketching
the shoppers at the Lakeland kitchen store.
Jackdaws, sometimes in a flock of 100 or more, circle over the grey-green slate roofs,
calling to each other.
Bowness’s bed-and-breakfast area has occasional becks flowing in slate-lined culverts
between the shrubby gardens of the bay-windowed Victorian villas. We find several
leafy shortcut paths (which actually take us the long way round) through pocket-sized
parks and alongside tumbling torrents where the wild Lakeland scenery of the surrounding
fells penetrates this quieter side town.