Grasmere is a village in the Lake District of Cumbria, England, lying beside the lake of the same name.

It is famous as the home of the poet William Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy at Dove Cottage:-

Dove Cottage was later also home to Thomas De Quincey, author of Confessions of an English Opium-Eater.

Side view:-

Side of house and garden:-

Part of back garden:-

Wordsworth’s bedroom:-

Sitting room of Dove Cottage:-

Back room:-

The graves of the Wordsworths are in the local cemetery:-

For the Great War Armistice anniversary some of the local lampposts were adorned with large poppies commemorating lads from the local school killed in the Great War.

Hero Oswald Hillerns:-

Henry Bowness Johnson:-

I noticed in the Lake District – Grasmere and Ambleside in particular – on our trip down there in April that not just boundary walls between fields are built with the dry stone method, the houses are too.

The photo shows a few such houses in Ambleside.

You could be forgiven for thinking I had gone to the Lake District and not visited any lakes, but of course I did.

En route to Cockermouth we passed Bassenthwaite Lake which is large but flat looking if you know what I mean.

We passed Thirlmere, a pretty enough lake but nothing spectacular, in order to visit Grasmere, lake and village, where we sampled the “famous Grasmere gingerbread.”

We also climbed up to Allan Bank, a house which William Wordsworth once rented.

From the left hand side of the house as seen above I took three photos of the lake and village, stitched into the one below.

The lake itself is little more than a puddle but the village is a delightful wee place.

Then onwards, up and over from the A591 to the A592 a very steep ascent giving me the opportunity to photograph Lake Windermere. Again a stitch (of two this time.)

We then kept on up the A592 travelling almost the full length of Ullswater – which is impressive, if not quite as magnificent as most Scottish fresh-water lochs. Particularly appealing were the tourist pleasure boats plying the lake, reminding me of the Loch Lomond of my youth and a trip to Loch Katrine about 12 years ago. It was raining by that time though and we didn’t stop. Perhaps next time.