High luxury or raw sewage: why the Lake District can't get it right
“Surely there is no other place in this whole wonderful world quite like Lakeland,” wrote Alfred Wainwright in 1948. The accountant-turned-fell-climber, enamoured with the region, inspired a generation of hikers, cyclists, wildlife-watchers and holidaymakers to explore the region, and cemented its legacy as somewhere remarkable in the process.
It is quite a contrast, then, that in 2023, leaked documents revealed that “raw sewage” had been released into Windermere, now one of the country’s most popular national parks. And this week, environmental campaigner Chris Packham accused a landowner of the suspected illegal tree felling, on the shore of the same lake. The Forestry Commission were made aware of the alleged felling in September, but no action has been taken.
Windermere is, for many, the “gateway to the Lake District”; a place that welcomed some 18 million visitors in 2022. Wainwright went on to write that the region was “exquisitely lovely”, that there was “no other so charming” – but as environmental damage and summertime overcrowding dominate the headlines, it seems as if we’re in danger of losing its tranquillity.
Still, one might argue the Lake District has always been a place of extremes. Victorian tourists, pressed on by Wordsworth, Southey and Coleridge, were in thrall to the idea of gentle fields, tended to by rustic farmers, and the awe-inspiring mountains above them. “Nature breathes among the hills and groves,” wrote Wordsworth in The Prelude – but this same nature threatened danger.
These extremes still exist – but the pressing one is between the murky lows of raw sewage, and, remarkably, the optimistic plenitude of luxury places to stay.
The most heralded of these luxury venues is the revamped Langdale Chase, a 30-room hotel sitting on the shore of Lake Windermere. The building itself dates back to 1890, but its life as a hotel began in 1937. Renovated to include everything from dog-friendly rooms to a newly-landscaped garden, the hotel is just one of many lavish places to stay in the National Park. Take The Lakes Hotel and Spa in Bowness. It has installed hot tubs across its balconies, and those without a car can take advantage of its “Bentley chauffeuring service”.
Then there’s the food. Once something of a secret, Cumbria is now the most Michelin-awarded English county. There’s L’Enclume in Cartmel, essentially an old hand – awarded its first star in 2005, its second in 2012 and its third last year. It appeared in the first series of Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon’s The Trip; this newspaper described it as a “clear expression of culinary genius”.
Newer additions include The Samling in Ambleside, The Dog and Gun in Skelton, Forest Side in Grasmere: all starred themselves. On the shores of Windermere, SOURCE at The Gilpin Hotel in Bowness is described by the Michelin Guide as “sophisticated but not over-complicated.”
All this, then, feels rather far away from Wainwright’s all-weather rambling. He would perhaps be dismayed to see that his “lonely ridges” have become, in places, almost unmanageably busy.
The traffic bottlenecks – especially around Windermere – have become infamous. During early December, a heavy snowstorm left motorists stranded and roads impassable. Cumbrian police declared a major incident; community centres offered aid to those forced to spend their night in their cars.
It is in the summer months, though, that the influx of visitors typically becomes a problem. Social media is often flooded with images of overflowing pavements and long queues for ferry rides. The most famous parts of the region, especially towns like Bowness – on the shore of Windermere – and Kendal, have seen a surge in popularity post-lockdown. Of course, this is what National Parks are for; they are there to be enjoyed by the public. But there’s a sense that the infrastructure is struggling to cope.
In fact, there’s something particularly ironic about the fact that the most popular part of the Park is also its most polluted. Suspected illegal dumping of raw sewage into Windermere took place on up to 70 days in 2022, according to researchers. Matt Staniek, director of the Save Windermere campaign, thinks it’s inevitable that it will affect the visitor experience.
“I couldn’t believe that even here – a beautiful place, within a national park and World Heritage Site – is not free from the exploitation of the water industry,” says Staniek.
“Last year, we saw the largest blue green algal bloom ever recorded on the lake. You could see it from space,” he says. “No one knew what to do. There were no warning signs telling people not to swim in the lake because it’s potentially toxic.”
It doesn’t quite match one’s Romantic idea of the Lake District. It also doesn’t quite chime with the image luxury hospitality options are attempting to impart.
Why, then, can we not get the Lake District right? In part, the problems of the Lake District are the problems we face across the country. Difficulty of access means that tourists are concentrated into certain areas – the rail network, unreliable as it is, only takes visitors to Oxenholme and Windermere in the South and Penrith, further north. Cars clog up the roads and car parks near Windermere, as people bustle towards the most famous spots.
Gill Haigh, the managing director at Cumbria Tourism, does acknowledge this as an issue. A much-trailed, new Destination Management Plan “will help address some of the issues rural destinations are facing,” she says. “These include better access, infrastructure and visitor services, as well as attracting new investment, bringing in new talent and stimulating innovation.”
Nonetheless, more attractions are planned: in August, the advisory body to Unesco warned that plans to install a zip wire network in Langdale would “ruin the area’s tranquillity”. Vocal opposition from local people cited the area’s inability to deal with excess traffic; many are concerned that the Lake District’s World Heritage Site status could be compromised by the opening.
For Matt Staniek, the sewage in the lake is symptomatic of the area. “How can we continue to sustainably develop the economy here, and support people coming here, if the infrastructure cannot cope with it?” he asks, pointing to waste overspills as evidence that the region is buckling under pressure.
There’s a sense that the Lake District is trying to become an adventure park, and forgetting, in the process, the things that made it exceptional in the first place. Heading away from Windermere, and to the more unknown parts of the region – heading further North, or West, or to the coast– could ease the pressure on those most touristed of sites. But something more radical needs to happen if the National Park is to remain the place Wordsworth called “paradise”.