Haweswater, the Lake District, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. The best place in the world to fish. The best place in the world. A stunning lakescape covered in ever-shifting light and wind and rain. Ever-changing colours, temperatures and pressure. She was ‘built’ in the 1930s: so much more water needed for the expanding city. Two hundred feet deep in parts she is. A massive expanse of beautiful, glistening, ever-moving liquid.

But the making of it spread bad feeling among the locals. I couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. Powers that be said they had no choice: “The local population’s ...

 

There are approximately 1136 more words in this article.

To read the rest of this article, please buy this issue, or join the Resurgence Trust. As a member you will receive access to the complete archive of magazines from May 1966.

Buy Issue Join Us

If you are already a member, please Sign in