We have a pretty late start after dumping our bags at the next youth hostel, so I'm dubious about making it all the way (this section is 16 miles). Plus the tops are completely clagged in and I'm not too keen on wandering around in the mist trying to find the path, or Mick. We went wrong a couple of times yesterday on the flat and in sunshine, so it's pretty easy to do.
And I've forgotten my walking socks so have skimpy white trainer socks inside my leather boots, until I improvise with a couple of knee supports.
Anyway, we set off around the edge of Lake Ennerdale, a bouldery path that soon feels like we're walking along a never-ending rockery.
There's a scary rock chimney, that goes by the name of Robin Hood's Chair, to negotiate.
Sometimes all I can see is two white heads, looking like bog-cotton bobbing in the breeze.
It's hard on the uncles and in the end, with the visibility and all, we decide to just do a circuit of the lake. There's compensation in the artistically rusted gate latches.
The youth hostel in Keswick isn't a patch on Cockermouth. We had that whole place to ourselves. Here it's an international hub, the 6-bed dorms are full and I have a sour-faced woman sleeping opposite me. Bah.
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