A lady woke me early to collect the fee for my camping but I went back to sleep and dozed a little more before getting up, cooking myself some porridge, packing my things away and departing at around 10:30. I made my way to the local shop where I met a couple who were also doing the walk. I don't know for sure where they were from but they spoke with an Australian dialect of aching limbs. I stocked up on supplies including a lovely ice cold lemon Fanta which I sipped as I made my way up the valley. It was hard work so when I had finished that bottle I re-filled it from a stream and kept sipping away. It was looking like a lovely day and I had an excellent view to my right of Stonethwaite Beck and down the valley back to Rosthwaite.

As I approached Eagle Crag I passed another couple who were doing the walk. They were spending each night in B&B accommodation (although they seemed to be carrying heavy packs) and had a goal for the day of Grasmere. Their mouths seemed to visibly drop open when I said that I was hoping to reach Patterdale by the end of the day.

After Eagle Crag there comes a stretch of relatively flat but boggy terrain and it was here that I stumbled across a whole coach load of tourists who were being guided on the coast to coast walk. It seemed to be a trip organised with a guide to help you find the way, a B&B booked for each night, a bus to carry your luggage and coach transport arranged to enable you to skip the boring bits. Most of the participants seemed to be around retirement age and I was able to march past them with ease. This had the effect of making me feel absolutely super fit and my legs seemed to get a new lease of life!

At the head of Far Easedale Wainwright gives a choice between a quick and easy route for bad weather or a slightly more scenic option which ascends Calf Crag and follows a ridge line down to Grasmere. Needless to say with my new feeling of invincibility I chose the highroad with little thought and, after enjoying good views, descended into Grasmere at about 15:30. Looking back I can not identify a single reason why I did not take any photographs at all on this day as the views were undoubtedly some of the best I encountered.

Grasmere seemed nice and there appeared to be many tourists there eating ice creams and enjoying the surroundings. I could see that the weather was changing and so I did not stop to look around. After leaving Grasmere I made towards Grisedale Tarn choosing to head up Little Tongue which is described by Wainwright as "a tedious ascent on grass". Tedious it was: my pack felt heavier than ever and my feet were really starting to ache. It was with great relief that I finally reached Grisedale Tarn as this marked the point where it was downhill all the way to Patterdale. However I could see that it would soon be raining (the sky had already spat at me a few times) and this, combined with my weariness, convinced me that it was time to set up camp.

So it was that at about 16:30 I pitched my tent just below cloud level at the edge of Grisedale Tarn. I crept inside just as the rain started to fall and used my stove (for the first time actually inside the tent) to brew myself a cup of tea. I ate a sandwich and some sweets before dozing on and off until about 20:00.

For dinner I heated up two tins of Spaghetti Bolognese and then tried my best to sleep with the wind and rain battering my tent from the outside. The night was cold and at one point I pulled my woolly hat down all the way over my face and then pulled my sleeping bag up over my head to try and stay warm. In the night I was desperate for the toilet and, to save myself from venturing out into the wet and cold, I made rather inventive use of the Fanta bottle from which I had drunk earlier!

For the first time on the trip so far I felt very remote. No one knew where I was. I had no mobile phone reception. There was no one about.