A Booking good time in Ambleside...

Ambleside is a popular place, what they call a "honey pot" destination. I can understand why - it's lovely. Or at least it would be if there weren't so many bloody tourists*.

The town is, in many ways, a victim of its own success. Because its lovely, people go there. Because so many people go there it gets horribly crowded to the point that you can't fit onto the pavements. to a degree, 'twas ever thus. Ambleside has been in the centre of things ever since 1650, when it was granted a charter to hold a market. Then, when the leisured classes began to make tours of the lakes in the late eighteenth and nineteenth century Ambleside as a logical destination. It's right at the centre of the district, it's handy for Windermere - the largest of all the lakes (about which more later) and of course William Wordsworth, that great Lakeland poet and hero of the Romantic movement lived just down the road in Grasmere. It's also very handy for the Langdales, and one of the highest pubs in England is literally just up the hill at the top of the Kirkstone Pass.

So, it became established as a destination and so became "the place to go", and once that happened the town's fate was sealed.

So it was that after a delicious lunch at The Glasshouse we found ourselves on the crammed streets of grey slate buildings, slightly sweltering under an unexpectedly strong sun and a clear blue sky. We browsed around the myriad of little shops - the town is well endowed with establishments catering to both the "outdoorsy" tourists who need boots and waterproofs and climbing gear as well as the less adventurous types who prefer an art gallery and a nice cup of tea.

For us though, there is one shop that cannot be missed. Fred Holdsworth's Bookshop is perhaps the ultimate hidden gem. I first came across the place about twenty five years ago as a young scout on my first summer camp above Ullswater. Our troop outing to Ambleside was one of the highlights of the week, and while everybody else was ogling the rucksacks and walking boots in the camping stores, I found myself in a little slice of wonderland.

Fred's is a small place, essentially two very small rooms stacked on top of each other, with every available square inch filled with books. I was a bookish kid, and I fell for the place instantly. Somewhere I still have the "Spill ink, Not Blood - Fred Holdsworth's Bookshop, Ambleside" pin badge they gave me all those years ago. Since that first visit I've been back every time I've been in Ambleside. There's just so much stuff in there. Terry Pratchett once opined that a good bookshop was essentially a genteel black hole that knows how to read - he might have had Fred's in mind. I certainly can't imagine how you can cram so many books into so small a place without altering at least a couple of the laws of physics...

On this occasion we found ourselves deep in conversation with the bloke behind the counter about Assynt and the Northern Highlands - our favourite place in the whole world - as we joined in a conversation he was already having with a very nice German couple who were looking for suggestions about where they could go next on their travels. That's the sort of place Fred's is; friendly staff who know their stuff and always have the time to chat. The nice German couple paid for their books (including a couple about the North West Highlands) and we fell into chatting about the places we knew in the area.

By the end of our little discussion I'd bought, on his recommendation, a copy of The Fell Walker by local author Michael Wood. "It's mostly set around here" he enthused, "but there are some bits in Assynt and up on the North Coast around Tongue - you'll recognise them!" He also assured me that it was a cracking good read of a thriller, and I must say he was right. I do like a good thriller, especially when it's set in places I can relate to. We left Fred's in a cheerful mood, Mrs Snail having acquired a couple of books herself. That's the danger of a good bookshop like Fred's - it's genuinely hard to leave without making a purchase.

These are the kinds of risks we like to take...

The other landmark that Ambleside is famous for is the little Bridge House.  Painted by all sorts of artists, including greats like Turner, and allegedly the most photographed building in the Lakes - as you see, my photograph also contains people taking a photograph, and there was a guy behind me taking a photograph too, so that's probably true...

The little "one up, one down" building straddles Stock Beck, which used to drive the Fulling Mill which now houses The Glasshouse (you can see it on the left of my picture here...) and is undeniably attractive, hence the "most photographed" status. When my primary school teacher first showed me a picture of this I was told that a poor man had built his house on a bridge because he couldn't afford to buy any land. Certainly local tradition claims that a family with six children once lived here, but any historian will tell you that "local tradition" is approximately as reliable as a 1977 Austen Maxi, so I'm keeping my pinch of salt handy.

The truth is that when the good folks at nearby Ambleside Hall wanted a place to store apples they were less than keen to pay land tax, so they built the store over the Beck, arguing that there was no land involved. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Bridge House, icon if the Lake District, started out as a tax dodge. It's not beyond the realms of possibility that a family moved in at a later date of course, but it was built as a tax saving store room. Fitting I suppose, therefore, that it now belongs to the nation - or at least to the National Trust, which is almost the same thing - and is I think the smallest and least comfortable National Trust Shop in England.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Hang on a minute Road Snail, you're in Ambleside, at the head of Lake Windermere - didn't you go and look at the water?"

Well, dear reader, no. We didn't.

You see, the truth is that Ambleside isn't on the shores of Lake Windermere. The town of Windermere, half way down the lake is, as is Bowness, at the far end. But there's a goodly walk between Ambleside and the little settlement of Waterhead, which does sit at the end of the lake. It's a walk well worth taking, don't get me wrong. You can catch one of the Windermere steamers from here, and sail down the lake to either or both of the aforementioned towns. It's a pleasant cruise on a nice day and something we've done many times. Ambleside Youth Hostel can also be found here, housed in what must once have been a fairly swanky hotel. It's certainly the best appointed Youth Hostel I've ever stayed in...

For us though, it was getting late and we still had to drive home the long way 'round. So, we mooched our way back to the car park and headed back through Coniston to Ravenglass. Our sojourn in the Western Lakes was almost over, but the expedition was far from over...

*Yes, yes, I know. We're tourists too - but like all tourists we labour under the delusion that we are somehow not part of the problem...