Getting the measure of my temporary home for the next few weeks - the coast of Cumbria.

It’s an area that’s been off my radar totally. I have always followed the tourist trail and spent time among the Lakes, reading Wordsworthian poetry, frequenting the fields brought to life by Beatrix Potter, and quaffing Old Peculiar.

The initial plan was to explore St. Bees, but that took all of five minutes. It’s pretty and friendly though. I watched the trains come and go for a bit (next stop Corkickle), and then ambled down to the seafront to look at the caravan sites.

So … since I haven’t as yet gone ‘Ping’ - my term for that moment when the cares of the world float away and you feel as though you are truly on holiday - I devised a challenge.

I’ll walk to Fleswick Bay.

It’s a well worn path, so well worn in fact that it’s become a narrow channel in places, and a bit tricky to walk along. And luckily there is undergrowth on the seaward side to disguise the fact that you are inches from death with sheer cliffs, the nesting sites for raucous birds. A walk along further, there’s a gully which opens ouit into Fleswick Bay… which was totally deserted (of humans. Tons of birds though).

And there I sat for a full hour… looking out to sea, to see if I could see the Isle of Man, which is out there somewhere.

For sustenance I bought some Kendal Mint Cake, another local delicacy - other than the Cumberland Sausage - there may be more delicacies, though I haven’t found them yet.

Mint Cake is filed away in the shoebox marked love/hate. It seems to have the same effect on people as Marmite. I do like it, in small amounts. Too much and I get a sugar rush headache.

It was - I find by reading the packet - very popular among the members of the successful Everest expedition of 1953. One of whom remarked, “It was easily the most popular item on our high altitude ration - our only criticism was that we did not have enough of it.”

Further reading of the packet shows that they almost didn’t get any at all. With a week or so to go till they set off, the makers got news of a rush job. Workers in the factory had to forgo their food ration coupons to gather together enough of the Mint Cake to supply the expedition.

Hilary and Tenzing feasted on Mint Cake when they reached the top of the mountain.

Note: George Romney - after whom the Mint Cake is named - was not the manufacturer. He was just a famous person who came to live in Kendal, though originally he was from Barrow. He was a portrait painter of none other than Nelson and Lady Hamilton. Best mates with the inventor of the Celestina. Ditched his wife and daughter to seek his fortune in London and Italy.

I clearly need to go ‘Ping.’

RJ