In Praise of ... Skiddaw

Skiddaw is not the hardest English mountain to climb but it is lofty, distinctive in character and shape, hymned in poetry and - on a good day like yesterday - there is no finer place in the land to enjoy a well-served three-course lunch. William Wordsworth and Robert Southey provided the inspiration for this year's Keswick Mountain Festival with their account of a Skiddaw summit lunch of roast beef, plum pudding and punch in 1815 to celebrate Napoleon's defeat at Waterloo. Yesterday's lunch, prepared on the summit in fine weather for 30 diners by the Keswick chef Peter Sidwell - and due to be repeated today - was a healthier and more sober affair with local produce such as lamb and damsons. This airy celebration - perhaps the start of an annual event - writes a new chapter in the story of an ancient and noble fell. Most visitors know the ascent from Keswick, but bolder walkers and writers such as Hugh Walpole and Melvyn Bragg have been inspired by its remoter northern flanks too. "The red glare on Skiddaw," wrote Thomas Macaulay, "roused the burghers of Carlisle with news of the Armada." They were lucky with the weather back then. A more recent Skiddaw beacon, lit with difficulty in thick cloud and driving rain on the Queen's silver jubilee in 1977, would not have roused anyone in Carlisle or anywhere else. But as the Keswick school song wisely has it: "Assurgit Skidda stabilis / Mons nunquam non durabilis." Loosely translated, this means that, even on a wet day, Skiddaw is always there for us.