The Lake District: Coniston

Ahh, Coniston Water, an old favourite of mine. Having paddled here several times before, I’ve always been struck by how surprisingly remote it can feel, despite being a well-loved Lake District gem. So, on a particularly atmospheric January day, I returned for a solo paddle, hoping for a bit of peace, quiet, and that unbeatable feeling of drifting aimlessly with a vague destination in mind.

Launching from Brown Howe on the western shore (top tip: you can pre-pay for overnight parking if you don’t fancy an early morning faff), I meandered lazily north towards the marina, then crossed to the eastern shore and began my gentle southward return. The breeze sent gentle ripples across the water, water birds bobbed along cheerfully, and for a while, everything was just as serene as I’d hoped.

Then came Peel Island.

Now, Peel Island is something of a magnet for visitors; not just because, well, it’s an island, but also because it features heavily in Swallows and Amazons abeit with the fictional moniker “of “Wildcat Island”, which means that at any given time, there’s a fair chance of finding someone acting out their childhood literary dreams. Sadly, all that attention has left its mark. I arrived to find the place looking rather worse for wear, with the usual depressing suspects: litter, dog mess, and the charred evidence of campfires. I did what I could to tidy up (because leave no trace is a thing, you scruffy muckers), then settled in for the night.

Despite the untidiness, Peel Island still has its magic, and I was reminded of this as a tawny owl took up watch nearby, its soft hooting carrying through the trees. There are certainly worse lullabies to fall asleep to.