Going Uphill

Another thing we did on our holiday in Cumbria was climb a mountain. Or at least a moderately steep hill. Whatever, it was certainly hard work hauling G up in the back carrier. I think I was trying to raise a smile in this photo, but all I could manage was a semi-exhausted half-smile, half-grimace.

Having a baby in a back carrier is a bit like putting a heavy backpack on. The important difference is that if the backpack is getting uncomfortable and you need to stop to rearrange it, you can just chuck it on the ground and sort it out. You can't really do that when it's your firstborn, so I ended up struggling on at various points when I'd really much rather have had a nice sit down and a rest.

Admittedly, having a nice sit down and a rest is usually pretty near the top of my preferred activities wherever I am. But it seemed a lot more appealing than normal as I trudged up the slope trying to keep my balance, as gusts of wind kept on catching the carrier, causing me to totter about and look like an idiot.

When we finally got back down to the road I felt I'd earned my pint in the Kirkstone Pass Inn, which is either the third or fourth highest pub in Britain, depending on which source you consult. As pretty as the Lakes are, I'd rather see them through the bottom of a glass any day.