The weir at Barley Bridge. A wander round the delightful town of Staveley. I chatted to a woman who had been wild swimming in the river and was complaining that some new houses had been built overlooking her favourite spot. She told me of lots of other places I could wild swim. While taking photos of the weir I got into a long conversation with another woman who lived near the bridge and explained that usually you cannot see the stones for the masses of water rushing over the weir. But it's been so dry lately, (surely not, this is the Lake District!) She told me the best local walks and, as the president of the local WI, invited me to come along. A very sociable day. Who says you need a dog to get into conversations with passers by.
One downside of moving here though is that I have to go to Preston to find the nearest Jessops because my Olympus is malfunctioning and its still under warranty. I have spent ages on the phone to the guy in Tunbridge Wells who is an Olympus expert but he has failed to fix it. Preston is an hour down the M6, what a bore.