In March 2020, when I stood alone in the middle of the main road to the Lake District, it felt like the end of the world. As a local farmer, I've grown used to the heavy traffic. But suddenly, everything changed. The lockdown brought quietness to the area, and I did feel a sense of relief to be done with the noise for a while.
Just off the main road is Matterdale, where I live with my family. We own a farm and our work focuses on tending farm animals. Like many who live in tourist attractions, we have been annoyed by some visitors. My farming would have been significantly easier without people parking in gateways, walking through the fields of lambs with loose dogs scaring them, or abandoning their tents along the river.
Despite my complaints, however, I would never reject visitors' presence. I do understand their need for rest after months of urban life. In fact, I think I need them too. Of course, communities like ours rely on the income that tourism creates. But to me, there is something more personal. I once took my kids to the lake. Near the shore, we saw boys and girls playing together. A young dad was holding his kid's hand as she tiptoed through the shallows. An elderly couple were sitting in the shade, admiring the view. I found myself content knowing that I was sharing this landscape with others.
As lockdown restrictions have relaxed and visitors started to come back, I wonder how we can coexist happily. For those who are reading this, I hope that my words can encourage you to respect the communities you visit, and understand the responsibilities that come with visiting those places. Our love can coexist, even if it sometimes makes life a little crowded.