LAKE DISTRICT
The Lake District had been sitting on my travel list for years.
I had imagined blue skies, mirror-like lakes and those impossibly perfect postcard views you see in photographs. Instead? It rained … and then it rained some more!!
The fells disappeared into the mist, the lakes changed colour by the minute, and every village somehow felt even cosier. It was beautifully, gloriously… wet (sigh!).
With love
Mel x
Our first stop was Kendal and, naturally, our priorities were in exactly the right order... food.
Instagram had been relentlessly tempting me with videos of Poppy’s Texas BBQ, and as a proudly South African woman with a serious weakness for proper braai (because we really don’t mess around when it comes to barbecue!), there was absolutely no chance we were passing by without stopping.
Worth. Every. Single. Penny.
The brisket was smoky, beautifully tender and everything a great BBQ should be. Generous portions, friendly faces, and Oliver falling suspiciously quiet — which is always how I know food has reached another level because he was far too busy eating to talk.
Surrounded by beautiful countryside, Kendal itself completely won me over. It has a warmth you feel almost immediately. Wandering its streets somehow ended with me dancing in the middle of town with a live entertainer and a group of locals. Absolutely brilliant and soo much fun!!
As we made our way towards Windermere, the heavens well and truly opened. Rain. Rain. And then… even more rain. Even my desperate “rain, rain, go away, come again another day” chants clearly weren’t working.
We checked into The Penn, just a stone’s throw from Windermere railway station, before doing exactly what any sensible person should do when the weather refuses to cooperate — we wandered without a plan.
We ducked into cosy cafés, independent bakeries, coffee shops and little bars. We warmed ourselves in atmospheric old pubs, stopped for coffee more times than necessary, stumbled across one of the best tapas meals we’ve had outside Spain and embraced the rain instead of running from it.
Then, almost as though the Lake District had decided we had earned it, the clouds slowly drifted apart.
The sun appeared, and suddenly Lake Windermere revealed itself.
The lake shimmered, the surrounding hills seemed to wake up around it, and for a few glorious moments everything looked exactly as I’d imagined it.
After lunch overlooking the water, we boarded the ferry across Lake Windermere towards Ambleside.
As the boat glided across the lake, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d seen something like this before.
Not literally, of course, but there was something wonderfully reminiscent of Lake Como — that same sense of elegance, mountains meeting water, and beautiful homes tucked into impossibly scenic landscapes.
It felt unmistakably English, yet somehow wonderfully European at the same time — graceful and utterly captivating.
Arriving in Ambleside, naturally, our first priority was more food (nudge, nudge, wink, wink!).
We practically scampered uphill to The Great North Pie Company, huddling together over steaming hot pies while watching the weather roll dramatically across the hills outside.
Honestly, I still think about those pies.
Please... someone open a branch in London.
They were everything a proper winter pie should be — rich, comforting, packed with flavour and exactly what you want after exploring the Lakes in unpredictable British weather.
Our home for the next couple of nights sat right above The Apple Pie Café, in the heart of Ambleside village, overlooking the river that winds its way through this beautiful little corner of the Lakes.
The views were everything I'd hoped for — mountain peaks rising in the distance, the sound of rushing water below and the gentle bustle of village life unfolding outside our window … and a whole apple pie to go with!!
The wonderful team gifted us an entire apple pie. Yes, you read that correctly — not a slice… an entire pie that, in my (Mel’s!) world, is exactly how apple pie should be served!!
Warm, buttery and utterly delicious, it disappeared much quicker than I would like to admit. Yet another bakery I desperately wish existed in London
The following day, we did what the Lake District is known for. We walked (for hours!!) … across fields dotted with curious sheep, playful lambs and the occasional cow who seemed just as interested in us as we were in them.
We followed winding paths beside rushing rivers, climbed gentle hills and found ourselves stopping every few minutes simply to take in the views.
At one point, I genuinely felt as though I had wandered straight into an Enid Blyton adventure.
Half expecting The Famous Five to appear around the corner at any moment didn’t feel entirely unreasonable!!
Our walk eventually led us to Rydal Cave — a place that felt almost otherworldly. Dramatic rock formations, still waters and spectacular views reminded me, once again, just how astonishingly beautiful this part of England really is.
Grasmere was our next stop!. Stone cottages, winding lanes, gentle streams and rolling fells create a landscape so beautiful it almost feels too perfect to be real.
Of course, this is Wordsworth country, and somehow you can feel it. There is a quiet poetry woven into everything — the landscape, the village, the stillness. And then… there is the gingerbread.
Of course, this is Wordsworth country, and somehow you can feel it. Poetry seems to linger in the air and then... there is the Grasmere gingerbread.
Oh.My.Word.
Everyone tells you to visit the famous Grasmere Gingerbread Shop.
Believe every single one of them. They are absolutely right.
Without question, it was the best gingerbread I have ever tasted.
Soft, spicy, buttery and completely unlike anything I had ever eaten before. If they had let me buy enough to fill a suitcase, I absolutely would have. In fact, I still regret not buying considerably more because I could happily have worked my way through it back home — one glorious piece at a time.
The fudge was equally irresistible and, despite what seems to be quite a divisive opinion, I absolutely loved Kendal Mint Cake too. Sweet, nostalgic and wonderfully old-fashioned, it somehow felt like eating a little piece of Lakeland history.
We stayed at The Daffodil Hotel & Spa, tucked quietly beside the lake, and it was the perfect place to experience Grasmere.
Elegant, peaceful and surrounded by extraordinary scenery, it captured everything I had fallen in love with about the Lakes — the beauty, tranquility and that feeling of being completely removed from everyday life.
Our final stop was Storrs Hall — and what a way to end this unforgettable trip.
Storrs Hall felt unmistakably, unapologetically British — elegant, historic and effortlessly charming.
Steeped in history and sitting proudly on the shores of Lake Windermere, everything about Storrs Hall encourages you to slow down.
The immaculate gardens gently roll towards the lake, elegant interiors overlook the water, and little pathways feel made for evening drinks while watching the light fade across the fells.
The service was exceptional, breakfast was every bit as wonderful as the setting, and leaving was far harder than either of us expected.
For me, the Lake District was about misty mornings, muddy boots, extraordinary food, chance conversations, villages that belong in storybooks and finding joy in getting wonderfully, gloriously lost.
It surpassed every expectation I had.
I’d go back in a heartbeat — and as often as I possibly can.
