This place holds some special memories for me stretching back 38 years! When I was 11 years old I was dragged away for the weekend to this godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere called 'the Lake-District' by the local scoutmaster. Yes folks, I was in the cubs....but please don't tell anyone as it will ruin my street-cred, not that there is much left anyway!

We camped across the river from the church and we had to cross these stepping stones carrying all our gear, as well as tents etc and the water was high and very cold and I was a bit nesh (quite a lot actually!).

The scoutmaster told my parents that I was off my food and that I didn't mix with the other kids (that explains a lot!) I was homesick!

I remember sitting round a smokey campfire whilst the grown-ups listened to The Goons on the radio whilst we were fed a plate of rice with brown sauce on it (call that lunch?). They took us for long walks in the blazing sun (it was hot in them days) and we would battle through tall ferns at least a foot above our heads, and then, when we rested we were all forced to strip off and jump in this freezing mountain pool, I didn't, I kept my clothes on, I was shy in those days......still am!