Why I'm addicted to the Lake District

At the suggestion of Joel, here is an extract of an email I sent him the other day. I think it helps to explain the real reasons why I love escaping to the hills so much.

The way I see it, living in Norwich for the past month has dulled
something in me.  That's why I need to escape home for the weekends,
to remember what it's like to be under the trees or walking along the
wide empty coast.  And that's why returning to the mountains was such
a relief.  The transition from safe city existence to the wild beauty
of Langdale was a profoundly exhiliarating one.  Back in the place
where I consider myself to be truly free, I felt I could relax and
breathe out.  There is a tremendous feeling of freedom and simplicity
in the Lakes.  With everything I needed in my pack, I felt I could go
wherever I wanted to, climb to my favourite summits, try out new
routes.

At the back of my mind, there was the desire not to go back.  I wanted
to stay for at least a week.  Going back was so depressing because I
was leaving my freedom behind, and returning to the place where
everything is ordinary, where nothing stirs the imagination.  I was
going back to lectures, coursework, deadlines, and the dreary
flatlands of Norfolk.

I have adjusted as much as I'm able to adjust, but already I'm missing
the freedom of the hills.  To me, the Lake District has come to
represent an escape:  it doesn't matter what you're escaping from,
it's a place where you can go to forget about things and just enjoy
life.  A.Wainwright, legendary guidebook writer, once said:  "For a
man trying to get a persistent worry out of his mind, the summit of
Haystacks is a wonderful cure."  I've found that to be true of the
entire area.

For me, it isn't so much that there are particular worries ... it's
just that living in the city puts a constant, almost undetectable
stress on me, which is only really noticed when that stress is
relieved.  Arriving in Langdale put a big smile back on my face.

And it wasn't just the mountains.  It was the little things, like
noticing that they still haven't replaced the bridge over Mickleden
Beck.  Or walking past the cornershop in Elterwater where we bought
postcards six years ago.  Or seeing a bloke bouldering just behind his
house in Chapel Stile (now that's freedom for you!)  Every twist and
turn in the road brings back good memories.

Sorry for the soliloquy, but that lot had to find an outlet somewhere ... :-)