James & Mel get Ratty with Owls - a Mini Trippie

[JamelUK]

MWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHAAAAAAAAAHHAAAAAAAAAAA!

WOOOOOOOOHHHOOOOOOOHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

AAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!

And other appropriate Halloween spooky noises.

For yes my dear DIBBers, it is All Hallows Eve.

The history books tell us that this annual event harks back to the days of the ancient Celts and the festival of Samhain, which celebrates the end of the lighter half of the year and the passing to the dark half.

Those very same Celts believed that the border between our world and the "other" world became thin on this night, and allowed the spirits to pass through.

This led to the wearing of costumes and masks and the need to disguise yourself as one of these spirits so as to go unnoticed and unharmed.

Of course in recent times we know that much of this romantic tale has been lost and that Halloween is now a commercial venture jointly run by the costume and cheap plastic toy manufacturers alongside the sweet confectioners of the world, with the full consent of every private dental practice in the land.

We know that it is little more than an excuse for Meatloaf fan's to play the Bat Out Of Hell album very loudly.

Goths understand that they can confidently nip down to Sainsbury's for a pint of milk without feeling self conscious or out of place.

Parents around the country fully appreciate that it is not the flickering flame inside the Jack-O-Lantern which wards off the poltergeist but the horrific stench you have to endure as you carve out your turnips or pumpkins.

Let us not forget the simple fact that tonight is one of the few occasions you can legally try to drown a child without involvement from the NSPCC, by simply claiming "We were Apple Bobbing" as your defence.

It is also a night of jokes and pranking.

Back in my day we might spend the evening using the cover of darkness to remove our neighbour’s garden gates from their hinges and shuffle it round with the ones from 3 doors down. If we were feeling brave or particularly mischievous we might have stuck a potato up the exhaust pipe of the Rover 2000 that belonged to the old miserable bloke at the end of the street.

Nowadays this practice has been westernised by our American cousins and so have to spend the evening constantly interrupted by a continual procession of small people begging, Dickensian Oliver style, on our doorstep. It’s called Trick Or Treating.

Well trick all you like kiddies. Thanks to recent legislation I know I can happily stand my ground with you on my driveway daring you to lay a single finger on any part of my property. One quick phonecall and it'll be another ASBO for you my friends.

In actual fact, Halloween does you a favour. At least tonight you know they'll be up to no good. Rather than the traditional Sunday evening when you're just settling down to watch the plentiful spread of quality entertainment on offer (Antiques Roadshow, Countryfile, etc...) when they start banging their infernal football on your garage door.

Gleefully, it won't last all night and with a school day looming tomorrow morning most will quickly return home to begin their journey into a hyperglycaemic coma whilst recounting spooky tales of not only tonight's sweet scavenger soiree but also of previous candy collecting capers.

So now we are all in the mood, grab an Uncle Joe’s Mint Ball and gather quickly around the fire DIBBers, for I have a short tale to share with you.

It is a story which involves Winged Beasts, Mechanical Monsters Billowing Smoke, The Fearsome Fulwood Fiend and a Perilous Passage home.

It all began on Thursday.

Well actually, it started a few days earlier than that, but as this is a Mini-Trippie I’m going to save you some boring stuff and skip straight to the detail. Stay with me, it will all make sense in a bit.

It's Mel's mums birthday this week and in a shocking turn of events that almost created bigger headlines than the glorious release of the trapped Chilean Miners, we actually remembered.

We even got a card and everything. All set to head over to Morecambe after work one evening to deliver aforementioned gifts, the inevitable happened.

We were Linzied.

My delightful Sister-In-Law, who I love dearly, cherish as if she were my own little sister and lives in Fulwood near Preston, had decided that she would organise events around her schedule and not ours.

Nanny and Grandad were looking after her 3 kids for the half term and she would be collecting them Friday night, so we could all meet up there and celebrate Christine's special day together.

Now prior to this I'd had a phone call from Linz last weekend seeking advice from her IT Guru. That's me by the way.

It seems her PC has a Trojan. A nasty little blighter too. The dreaded Antivirus 2010.

We had a short conversation during which I asked her several times...

"Have you installed any software or games or anything recently?" - "No"

"Have you had any spam or junk or weird emails in recent days" - "No"

"Have you used any odd websites or anything new on Facebook recently" - "No"

"Are you sure?"

"Well there was that Amateur Football Club website..."

"What about it?"

"Well when we visited that the other day there was a big message saying that the site had been hacked, compromised, that they apologise for any inconvenience and that users are advised to check their machines for viruses. Could that be it?"

See what I have to deal with?

Knowing Linz well enough, I told her to unplug her PC, to stick it downstairs in the hallway and to bring it with her to Morecambe on Friday so that I can take it home and work my magic over it. Again.

I also gave her strict instructions NOT to touch it and NOT to use it under any circumstances, despite how much the kids might whinge or Facebook withdrawal symptoms may kick in.

So back to Thursday.

The phone rings and after answering it, Mel passes it to me with silent, mouthed instructions "Don’t shout at her!"

"Yes?" I ask Linz, knowing this isn’t going to be good

"My PC is really poorly now I think. It keeps popping weird messages up all the time"

"Wh...? Ho...? WHY?! Why did you turn it ON!"

"Well I had to do some really urgent stuff for the kid’s school. I only had it on for a few minutes. Will it really have done much damage?"

I break out into a massive tirade of disbelief, exasperated at her stupidity and leaving in no uncertain terms as to the error of her ways.

As I start to pace up and down the living room, my volume rising and my breathing becoming ever more laboured Mel quickly moves all sharp objects out of my reach and grabs the phone off me.

10 minutes later she has calmly explained to her sister that I'm not joking and she really should turn the PC off straight away and promise not to do anything else with it until I’ve got my hands on it on Friday.

Later that night in bed and I’m still going on about it.

I should point out that the reason I get so wound up about this is because I regularly, constantly, repeatedly tell my dear lil sis Linz that she really shouldn’t be doing or using this that or other on her PC.

That's because I variously spend every other weekend hunched over her PC administering running repairs and performing System Restores to untangle the latest "Free & Must Have" internet leech she has managed to find.

In an effort to change the mood, Mel starts DIBBing on her iPhone and spots a thread about who is doing what for Halloween.

She reads a post by DIBBer Florida2010 to whom we owe this entire mini-Trip too.

It tells of a planned Halloween trip up to the Lakes and a "ghostly" trip on the Ravenglass & Eskdale Railway.

Mel and I know of this lovely little railway, and a night time ride sounds fun. Given that we're going to be half way there on Friday night at Mel's parents she suggests we should stop over and make a day of it.
I agree that if Mel can manage to get tickets, why not.

So Friday comes around and Mel and I head off to our respective places of employment. Shortly after 9:30 I get a text from Mel to say she's acquired two tickets for the 6:30pm train on Saturday night. Woohoo!

Arriving home later that evening we quickly pack the essentials for an overnight stay - change of underwear, clean t-shirt, toothbrush and Uncle Joe's Mint Balls. Then we set off.

I’m about 20 minutes up the M6 when I suddenly realise I’ve made a horrid mistake.

No, I’m not talking about my decision to build Linz a PC and connect her to the Internet some years ago. I'd forgotten my trusty Nikon DSLR.

So you will excuse me if the photos which will appear in this mini-Trippie shortly are not up to my usual standard, but it does at least allow me to demonstrate how good the camera on an iPhone 4 is!

Once we get to Morecambe, I know something is wrong.

Linz is being suspiciously coy and I quickly have a large plate of homemade potato pie thrust in front of me and I’m instructed to eat.

It's then she plays that age old waitress "Is everything okay with your meal" trick on me. You know - they always ask you when you've just shovelled a mouthful of food into your face?

Except Lindsay's question is more sinister.

"Will it matter if I copied any pictures onto a CD last night so I could give them to a friend...?"

Quick as a flash Mel moves to block me from the knives and cutlery drawer and sticks a pint of best bitter in my hand.

The Topps soon leave as the kids are tired and have a football match to get to early the following morning.

As I’m lifting her PC into the back of my car I ask Linz - "You have washed this down with Dettol haven't you?"
Staring at me blankly she replies - "No. Why? Should I have done? What will happen if I haven’t?"
I mutter something about "Damn peasants..." under my breath.

After catching up for a chinwag with Bill and Christine and their continuing P&O cruise exploits (I reckon they now spend more months on board a ship than they do at home) Mel and I retire to bed in their spare room.

[JamelUK]

We are up early the following morning.

Not entirely out of choice.

Christine you may remember is wheelchair bound as a result of a severe stoke some years ago. She has a home nurse visit to help her in the mornings.

Despite Bill's polite request - "Sssh. My daughter and son in law are asleep in that room" - she has a rather booming Matron like voice that reverberates around the bungalow.

The 3 x S's done and a bacon sarnie later, e head on our way to The Lakes.

The journey there is fairly uneventful.

Apart from the disgraceful stock mishap at the ASDA down the road from Bill and Christine.

They have NO Uncle Joe's Mint Balls and Mel had only bought a dozen or so from home. The stash in her handbag is almost depleted. "Seasonal Stock" you have a lot to answer for.
We make do with a multi-pack of Starburst which was on offer.

We continue onwards, again without too much fuss.

Apart from the music choice.

With both hands on the steering wheel, it would be dangerous of me to try connecting my own iPhone to our car stereo so as to listen to a tuneful selection from the likes of Kings of Leon, Pendulum, Simian Mobile Disco, Armin van Burren and Katy Perry. You'll notice that even though I maybe celebrating a zero alongside WDW next year, I’m still down with the kids. Innit.

Instead Mel takes full advantage and forces me to suffer her own "eclectic" choice from her iPhone.

She selects a playlist which contains near 100 tracks - a variety of cheesy pop and Disney classics. Amongst this selection are just two Girls Aloud tracks. Putting her iPhone onto shuffle play, it quickly plays the pair of them back to back.

Later, as we approach Kendal, a strange haunting melody starts to play. I can’t make my mind up as the intro begins if this Disney or not. If it is I can’t place from which movie it’s from.

"What this?" I ask, "I don’t recognise it"

"You will!" giggles Mel

As the song finally bursts into its chorus I curse Chris Moyles...


Im still asking - "Why? WHY?!" - as we pull into the car park of the outdoor shop near Kendal.

In preparation for our Xmas DLP trip, Mel is after a new weatherproof fleece or jacket and we know from past experience that this place has a great range of gear at outlet / discount type pricing.

Sadly not this time - they have nothing suitable and we soon head out again.

I know The Lakes well.

My parents whisked me off for caravanning holidays in Coniston from age of 5 right through to my teens. Later, as my Fathers own small business collapsed during the last recession, they decided to move up there and run a pub near Greenodd and I spent 8 years living there.

So it’s not long before we turn up in Ravenglass, on the West Cumbrian coast near Seascale and Whitehaven.

It is home to one of the most delightful little tourist attractions in the Lakes - The Ravenglass and Eskdale Railway


Dating way back to 1875, the lines original purpose was to transport iron ore from the inland workings near Boot to the coast at Ravenglass.

However it fell into bankruptcy and closed in 1913. Left for two years it was in 195 that two model engineers - WJ Bassett-Lowke and his friend R Proctor-Mitchell bought the line to test their miniature steam engines. Whilst continuing to transport Granite blocks it also carried passengers from 1916 along the newly laid narrow gauge track of just 15".

It even carried on during the war, but in 1953 its owner the Keswick Granite Company ceased their quarrying operations and the railway was put up for sale. With no interest in 1960 it looked like it was doomed forever.

However, a group of enthusiasts and local wealthy businessmen came together to form the Ravenglass and Eskdale Railway Preservation Society and save the day. That same society still exist today to run this glorious little steam line which transports an average of 120,000 passengers each year on as many as 16 trains daily through the summer. It runs most days through the year - only closing in January.

Its nickname "La'al Ratty" comes from the old local Cumbrian dialect and means The Little Narrow Way.

As we arrive in the Car Park the heavens open and it starts to hail. Hard.

We sit in the car and watch the clouds pass. As quickly as it came, it stops and we go and collect our reserved tickets for tonight's Ghost Train trip and make a dash for the nearby Ratty Arms for a pub lunch.

Mel has a Cumberland Sausage Panini type thing, while I have cheeseburger chips.

I’m sorry to disappoint the foodies out there but there are a few reasons why there are no pictures of this meal.

1) I forgot

2) My cheeseburger was dripping with fat which was squirting down my wrist every time I took a bite.

3) I was troubled by my pint of Jenning's Cumberland Ale. It didn’t taste right and in hind sight now I probably should have gone back to the bar with it. It came back to haunt me (geddit?) at around 3am this morning.

As we sat and ate our meal which was cheap enough that it was much tastier and wholesome than the impression I may have given above, Mel and I discuss Disney 2011 options.

Having lost out on Orlando this year due to my unemployment before September, we are keen to go big next year both to make up, and also celebrate that big zero which, I hope we will all agree, until the time comes in January will not be spoken of again.

There is much discussion of the free DDP offers, Port Orleans vs. Old Key West vs. Wilderness Lodge and the suspiciously cheap price of flights to MCO via Dublin on Aer Lingus.

Whilst ordering our food I had grabbed a leaflet for the other part of today's excursion - Muncaster Castle - and noticing that one of their highlights was to start at 2:30, I hurry Mel to neck her J20 and we pay and leave.

A quick drive up the road then and we pull into the car park for Muncaster Castle.


Parking is free, but entrance to the castle and its grounds isn't.

There are a couple of admission options, depending on what you want to see and do. There is only a couple of quid between them, so Mel and I blow the budget and go for the all inclusive ticket to the castle, the grounds and more.

Handing over our £20ish I am dismayed when I realise that our tickets take the form of those awful colour wrist bands things you get at concerts or at Disney special event nights.

You know the ones. The type that later, when it comes times to remove them, will require specialist cutting gear normally only available to the emergency services.


That done though we walk on into the castle grounds.

Muncaster Castle is set in 77 acres of beautiful Cumbrian woodland.

We stop briefly so that Mel can take a good "man from C&A" shot against this backdrop of the witches of Eastwick...


...before striding on quickly so as not to miss the main attraction of the day - "Meet The Birds"

You see Muncaster is home to the World Owl Trust - a charitable organisation looking to protect the populations of endangered owls until their habitat can be restored and they can be reintroduced back into the wild. Each day the castle is open they hold a talk on the castle lawn and show off some of these magnificent birds.

We are just in time as our host for this afternoon, Wulf.

What a fantastic name for a conservationist - Wulf.

I wonder if thats his real name. I mean it works so much better than say Kevin or Tarqiun.

Anyway, he explains why keeping these owls in captivity the way they do is a good thing. Many would be extinct otherwise. They look after and try to breed from them, carefully introducing them back to surveyed habitats and monitor their progress. They do tremendous work.

The stars of this show however all have problems.

Do-gooders often try to help their cause and attempt to keep and breed birds of prey themselves. Some even try to domesticate them as pets. Birds of prey are big and hardy. Many will live for many years - even outliving their owners. They end up, via the RSPCA, here at the centre where they are cared for and looked after. Unfortunately they can never be released back into the wild as they would simply never survive.

The first bird that Wulf introduces us to is a prime example - Mortimer the common buzzard.

Unfortunately, Mortimer is a bit thick. Actually, he's very thick.

It's not his fault. He was bought as a chick by an owner that knew nothing and fed on a diet of bacon and inherited a lot of bad habits.

As well as somewhat of a large problem for a buzzard. He's scared of heights!

Everyone laughs as Wulf demonstrates this by taking his Buzzard for a walk!

Next up is Sparky. He's a Barn Owl, and absolutely adorable. The girl holding him is being a "Trainer For The Day"


Over 100 of years the Barn Owl was commonplace throughout the country and every village church or church hall wasn't complete without one. Sadly, today the population has dropped to such an extent that many of our children will only know the owl from books, posters and greetings cards.

Finally, we meet Chocolate, the Eagle Owl.


Can you believe he is only about 18 months old? He weighs around 5lb and has a wing span of about 5ft.

After the show, Mel and I feel the need to contribute to the continuing great work of the Trust and so cough up £3.50 each for a picture with Sparky.



Walking around to the front of the castle, we pop into to look around given that we paid extra for the Yellow wristbands. No pictures here I’m afraid as they are forbidden inside the castle.

On entering the Great Hall a lovely lady gives Mel and I an MP3 player each.

Well they call it an MP3 player. It’s not exactly the latest iPod shuffle. It’s roughly the size of a breeze block and weighs about the same.

Nevertheless we are instructed to clasp it to our ear and press zero.

We do and nothing happens. Perplexed we look at each other and try again. There is a burst of noise and then a commentator instructs us how to use the guided tour device.

It’s a simple, yet clever concept. Each room or point of interest has a number. You simply key that number into your player and can listen to recorded information - pausing, skipping or winding back as you see fit.

This works well for me.

I’m not one for stuffy history lessons on ancestry, noblemen and such, but I do like interesting facts and details.

For example I learnt that Muncaster Castle was originally built by the Romans as a fort to overlook the nearby River Esk. It was then passed over and has been inhabited by the Pennington family for well over 800 years - the current owners being Phyllada and Patrick Gordon-Duff-Pennington.

In the large Dining Room I was staggered to discover that the wallpaper isn't actually just plain wallpaper. It's actually real black leather embossed with gold leaf. I wonder how much you'd pay for that at B&Q?

Most interesting of all though was the large portrait of Tom Skelton.

He was the castle Jester in the 16th century and apparently the last court Jester in England. He was a dark character and was responsible for a number of deaths as a result of his "practical jokes". A good friend of William Shakespeare, it is to Tom Skelton we are to thank for the phrase "Tom Foolery"

Outside, we take a moment to admire the magnificent view the Castle has across Muncaster Fell to Scafell Pike and The Langdales



The mood quickly changes though when Mel finds the perfect furniture to keep me in check.


We wander next around to the HQ of the World Owl Trust, home to over 50 species of owl.


They really are remarkable creatures, and it would be such a shame if they were lost to extinction.


They're expressions really do give them a character.


We learn that the current trend by farmers to grow rape seed and maize rather than traditional meadow silage is not helping. Although the yield for the farmer is 3 fold for the same traditional effort, it is not a natural habitat for voles and they are dying out. As vowels are the main stay diet of many British owls, they're struggling to find food. Farming isn't always as environmentally friendly as you might first think.

It is then we go in search of a mid afternoon snack.

I had promised Mel that I would feed her just as soon as we had seen the owls, as there is a small cafe within the Owl Gardens.

It's shut.

Not to worry, there is also a main cafe and we know that is still open, so we head that way.

As we do we spot a sign that clearly reads "Tea Rooms" and points us up another path. We shrug our shoulders and try it, even though the Tea Rooms were supposed to be the cafe we have just seen is shut.

The sign directs us into a side door where we quickly find ourselves inside the Castle Offices. Confused, we ask a nice lady there for directions. She points us back down to the path we were originally following.

As we retrace our steps we take another look at the sign. It clearly points towards the office door. Maybe they should put the kettle on!

The main cafe area is situated within the courtyard of the castle and is quite quaint and lovely. They have a brazier raging in the middle to keep everyone warm as there are a few passing showers this afternoon.

I quickly grab a pot of tea for Mel, whilst I have a cappuccino and we both tuck into delicious scones with jam.



In the gift shop I manage to pull Mel away from buying the large, fluffy, white snowy owl plushy and we walk slowly towards the castle exit, admiring the beautiful grounds and surrounding as the light starts to fade.

[JamelUK]

Quickly down the road to Ravenglass and we arrive at the station quite early.

We did think about driving a bit further up the road where there is a free, public car park but thinking about how dark it will be when we return, we pay for our £3 pay and display ticket knowing that this all goes towards the upkeep of the railway and its preservation.

The station has been decked out with many of these fantastically carved pumpkins...


The cafe looks quite inviting, so we decide we'll go and have another brew while we wait.

On entering we feel a little like we are intruding as we quickly figure that the cafe is to be closed and tonight will be its last night before it is torn down. There is some kind of leaving do / last supper party going on with the various members of staff.

However, they are all in great spirits and make us feel very welcome, quickly handing us a Creepy Crossword to complete while we have yet another coffee. All this caffeine is helping to take away the taste of that rather dodgy pint I had earlier.

It's not long before I spot that the station staff are readying our train for the 6:30pm departure.

Tonight our engine will be the River Mite.

By day it looks like this...


...and at night it looks like this...


Our tickets provide us with seat reservations and Mel and I go and check out where we will be travelling.

We are in A17 and 18, within a block of 4. That would be four of the dwarves! Remember, this is a miniature narrow gauge railway and the seats are tiny!

Luckily, it is only us and so we can spread out on opposite seats. I think if we had needed to share our space we would learn to know our new friends quite intimately!


The train departs Ravenglass at 6:30 precisely with a blow on the whistle and a "MWAAAHAHAAAAHAAAA!" over the platform tannoy.

The Ratty weaves it’s through the Eskdale valley over a 7 mile run, taking around 45-60 minutes to reach Dalegarth station at the other end.

On this special Ghost Train services the train doesn’t stop at any of the other stations along its journey, however it does roll slowly through them. Very slowly.

As it does, ghostly apparitions appear on the station. Staff members dressed in costume jump out or wail to scare you, some running along the side of the carriage banging on windows to make you jump.
All great fun!

We chug along and finally reach Dalegarth station, where we are greeted by a Chief Inspector from the Metropolitan Police Strange Apparitions Department or SAD for short. He invites us into the cafe for something to eat.


The staff quickly serves up a choice of either hot dog or tomato soup. We both go for the sausage in a bun option and manage to snaffle 3 of the last remaining ketchup sachets. So that gives us a grand total of 2 drops of red stuff. They are quickly eaten.


WE were also given cups of orange squash. Now it may just be me, having grown used to the taste explosion which is the Orange Fanta you can only buy in the states, but I think the Orange as far as this squash was concerned was describing more the colour than the taste. It was tap water that had, at some point in time, been waved vaguely in the direction of a citrus plantation. However, I was thirsty, could still taste that beer and it was quickly swallowed.

Not long after Mel had finished taking interesting pictures of the decor...


...the Chief Inspector asks for our attention.

He tells us that this station is haunted. That Dalegarth in the ancient Viking language literally means "House of Death".

Going on, he explains that strange things happen here every 50 years and by some remarkable coincidence, oh lucky us, tonight is the 50th anniversary of those strange events.

We listen as he recalls how 150 years ago a local farmer rejected the plans to build the railway and station here on his land and how we protested at the authorities, before disappearing under mysterious circumstances.

100 years ago, an old lady was sitting waiting for her train to come. For reason still uncertain, it never did arrive. And so she just sat on the bench and waited. And waited. And waited. The following morning they found her still there on the platform, stone dead!

50 years ago, a woman was here at Dalegarth buying ice cream for her two sons. After eating the ice creams, they all died! Dead! Dead they were!

And tonight, as another 50 years passes, we are told that even Death himself may be seen.

The Chief Inspector asks us to let him know should any of us see anything suspicious as he invites us back out onto the platform.

Of course the gag is, in good old Panto style, that neither he nor his Sergeant can see any of the characters who are now playing their parts well out on the Platform.



The old lady stays put while I sit and have my picture taken...


...but spooks Mel out as she shuffles closer to her as Mel sits down!


The Chief is excellent with the kids, really pretending that they're all bonkers and there is nothing to see here, as a very tall and spooky Death stands behind him and taps him with his scythe.


We are quickly all back on board where once again the train rattles through the forest and along the stations where once again we are taunted by the various ghoulish staff members.

A brilliant evening, recommended to anyone who fancies doing something a bit different for Halloween.

But be sure to visit La'al Ratty through the day to. It’s a beautiful and picturesque journey with plenty of walks at either end of the line. Dalegarth in particular has a short walk which will take you to see a magnificent waterfall, and if you're feeling like more of a hike, Scafell is just down the road.

So we hop in the car and head home.

You might be expecting our tale to end there. Regular readers of my Trippie will know that nothing is ever that straight forward with us.

It is as we are passing Muncaster Castle and recalling what a great day we've had that the petrol light comes on.

Having lived and worked in The Lakes for a few years I know this might be a problem.

I am acutely aware that there aren’t any filling stations anywhere near. I also know that many around these parts are not always 24 hour.

Oops.

Mel of course is as cool as a cucumber. You remember that she has this theory that when the yellow light comes on, it must surely give you enough reserve to make the next gas station.

I often wonder if she believes these are locally set for you by the garage as you pick up your shiny new motor. For example, if you lived in the Orkney Isles would your yellow warning light give you enough reserve gas to get across to the mainland and to find a pump?

Yes, you're right. I know. And still I married her.

My immediate thought is there may be a gas station in Broughton. There is, but its shut.

We're travelling along the A591, to pick up the A590 at Greenodd. Having used to live there, I know that there is a garage on the corner of this junction. It too is shut. I’m starting to sweat a little now as I know it’s been some time and we have covered quite a few miles since the light came on.

Newby Bridge is just down the road. There's a gas station just down the road form that. Or at least there used to be.

Great! It’s still there! But it’s also shut. I ask Mel whether she has her AA card on her, and if not she needs to start finding a phone number. I am tickling the gas pedal and thanking my lucky stars that its downhill over Newton Fell.

I know that there is another BP station along the dual carriageway from Grange Over Sands, nr Witherslack. AS we approach it we spot its sign "Services - not 24 hours". Aaaarghh!

As we approach we can see lights. Is it? Could it be? It is! Hoorah!

The Nissan X-Trail we own has a 60 litre tank. I fill it with 58 litres.

As I’m punching in my PIN I joke with the guy at the till about how we've been trying to find a gas station and we panicked a bit when we saw his "Not 24 hours" sign. "Well you just made it. We shut at 10". My till receipt reads 21:58.

Back in the car, Mel asks what we would have done if that wasn't open. I tell her that this is another gas station down the road on the way into Kendal, although I doubt if we would have made it that far.

As we hit the M6 I can see that her accountancy brain has gone into Excel mode. This is never a good thing.

"So we had about 2 litres left, and a full tank can get us down to Southampton... " - most of it just becomes noise to me after that. It has stated to rain again and I’m concentrating on the road.

"Yes, we could easily have made Kendal! Not a problem. I don’t know what you were worrying about"

I disagree. Much as it might have been mathematically possible, I really wouldn’t like to risk it. Especially with all the going up and down of hills. I’m not buying it.

Being a typical woman, she won’t just let it lie.

We pass the motorway sign given the distances to the next services. The Truckhaven at Carnforth is just 8 miles away.

"We could have made that too I bet", she says.

"JUST LET IT GO! ", I yell

Later, as we pass Forton services she mutters quietly, "Now even I know we wouldn’t have made it that far"

I say nothing.

"This is going in a Trippie isn’t it?" she asks

I say nothing, but just smirk gently. Mel contemplates for a moment then whispers in her cutest voice "I love you."

[JamelUK]

The eagle eyed amongst you may notice that we are well into double digits for our Xmas DLP trip.

Stay tuned - a pre trip will be posted near the end of November.

[skalexander]

Thanks for that, I had a good little chuckle - and on a Sunday night that takes some doing

[Melonz]

Thanks James, I really enjoyed that. Very interesting. I would love to do the ghost train ride.

[Melanie R]

I still think we would have made it...

[JamelUK]

Originally Posted by melanie r

i still think we would have made it...

See more...

Let

It

Go!

[Guest]

Sounds like you had a great day out. Loved the pics of the owls.

[oh_darling]

Love it guys! That old lady on the bench is seriously spooky, if she'd shuffled closer to me I would have literally poo'd my pants, poor Mel!