Said farewell to my last hotel, it never was much kind of abode. Thanks Paul McCartney, you must have stayed where we did in Liverpool.
5 minutes to 1 in the morning and I was woken to the continuous ringing of what I concluded to be the doorbell of our share dump. The main entry to this place had a combination lock. Had someone forgotten the code? Was it an axe murderer trying to trick us? Annette woke up eventually and together we went to the front door. In my sleepy state I meant to suggest we ask who is at the door. Annette just opened it. Standing at the door was a bearded guy holding a pizza. Annette roused on him while he explained that his phone was flat. Anyway, he came in and headed upstairs and I got little sleep as I tried to figure out when he was going to break our door down.
Finally we left that place and hit the rainy road, stopping for the usual antique and bladder detours. Through the hills we went as we made our way to Keswick. The b and b is nice. I am getting sick of pub food but did manage to spend a few foolish dollars. Big wind warnings for the next day so we will see what happens.
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