Milling around…

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

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By the time we had found the little lane that would lead to the place we were staying for the night, the light had almost gone. Not quite… for which I was thankful, because, yet again, we found ourselves looking for an inn lost in the middle of nowhere. For once, though, it was easily found and we settled in for the night.

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This time, the ‘middle of nowhere’ was Mungrisdale, tucked away in a corner of the fells below Blencathra. There are just a few houses and the 17th century coaching inn, but, with the setting and the landscape, that is more than enough. The Glendermakin river flows around the inn and the ‘mountain views’ that were promised in the advert were real… the hills rise just  yards from the inn and to wake to their beauty was wonderful.

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We spent most of the evening by the fire, accompanied…

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