Passing St. Bees School

 After spotting St. Bees Abbey in the distance:

We first encountered St. Bees School (where Mr. Bean, Rowan Atkinson, studied, of course):

Have read that the School was established in 1583 by Edmund Grindal, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who came from St. Bees himself.

The Foundation block, facing St. Bees Abbey, said to be the oldest part of the School:

Moreover, despite closing due to falling student numbers in 2015, the School resurrected itself in 2018 and seems to be growing from strength to strength.

A heart-warming story in our days of despair. 

St. Bees: High Street

Before visiting St. Bees Abbey, we had a quick look at the village which is centred on the charming High Street:

What struck me was the wonderful difference in size and shape between the buildings:

And the fantastic, old-worldly, English feel to the place:

The (non-pictured) post office/local store is the life blood of the village, selling delicious, freshly-made pies/pasties in the morning, and provided all the food/drink that we needed for our stay in St. Bees.

St. Bees: Greeted by the Coastline

 

Upon arriving at St. Bees, we were greeted by the rugged coastline:

Knowing that a fascinating couple of days lay ahead of us.

And thankfully, the friendly/helpful campsite was just a stone's throw away.

Workington-St. Bees Train Journey

These pictures offer something of the atmosphere of travelling along the coast by train from Workington to St. Bees.

But they far from tell the whole story.

As we had to get off at Whitehaven (to catch a coach onward) where I had my best BLT sandwich ever and my friend, Dave, got hit on the head by a seagull while eating his butty.

During the train part of the journey, we passed through obscure seaside stations:

Being glued to the sea:

The reward for our Sunday journey was arriving at St. Bees, of course:

Workington Train Station: Historical Atmosphere

 

Having enjoyed a pleasant bus ride from Keswick, taking in parts of Bassenthwaite Lake and the wonderful-looking Cockermouth (Wordsworth's birthplace, of course), we found ourselves at Workington train station.

The train station, itself, was full of history, about the town's industrial past:

How fish had been transported here:

And previous connections to key parts of the Lake District:

Was well impressed with Workington train station: the stationmaster went out of his way to find us cheap tickets to St. Bees; saw young women elegantly dressed (like in the 1920s); and the town itself seems to have suffered little from modern-day colonisation (from you know who).  

Rowers on Derwent Water

 Taking a last look round Derwent Water, I saw rowers on the lake:

This made me realise that rowing would've probably been the best way of reaching St. Herbert's Island (some YouTube videos show this being done).

Still, despite not reaching St. Herbert's Island, it was a joy seeking it around the lake.

As Wordsworth's poetry often points out, walking round such places offers catharsis, with Nature (God's creation) offering a profound healing process.

This is why I had to have a good look at Derwent Water twice.

To soothe the soul.

Passing Our Lady of the Lakes

After a couple of mid-Saturday pints with Dave at Keswick Wetherspoons, I went looking for other things of interest, first passing the St. Herbert Social Centre:

Then chancing upon Our Lady of the Lakes:

How great seeing the English Lakes dedicated to Our Lady:

As Our Lady is often associated with guiding sailors and travellers over the Sea (Hail Queen of Heaven, the Ocean Star ...), of course.