This time last week I was tucked away in our cottage in Windemere. I can hardly believe it. Now Bethany — my oldest friend in the world who generously flew out to London to celebrate my birthday — is safely back home in Colorado, starting a new adventure in her education. Daniel is in Charleston, picking up the last of our belongings from storage and then off to Florida for business. And I’m here, at my little black desk in Linden Gardens, my windows open and happily awing at yet another clear blue winter sky.

I’ve spent these past days in solitude surpassing daily word count goals and getting a long head start on content ⁠— just kidding, that is a lovely thought though. My energy these past days was largely invested in the planning of our December wedding. I have yet to figure out how to include this in my routine without the complete consumption of it. Planning a destination wedding for two families spread across three continents feels like a second education within itself. I’ll be transforming my own experience of the wedding planning process into a resource for readers. I truly love weaving the smallest sentimental touches together to tell our story, while also curating a bespoke celebration with complete avoidance of wedding industry traps. The first wedding planning guides will focus on the Invitations and How I Chose My Wedding Dress, launching in February. Now, on to birthday weekend in my most beloved region of England thus far.

Lake District wanderlust took root when I read Elizabeth Bennet accompanied her aunt and uncle to the region in Pride & Prejudice. That desire intensified after seeing the Keira Knightley film adaptation. It far exceeded any fictional notions of beauty my imagination had conceived. Each morning we awoke to the most quintessentially English picture: fells and peaks blanketed in winter’s frost; grazing sheep speckling every hillside; secluded stone cottages; moody lakes venting morning mist; an extra spark of countryside kindness in voice of locals. I told Daniel years ago that I want to celebrate my birthdays somewhere new each year. He’s made that wish come true since we’ve been together, and my 29th may have been my favourite.

My birthday morning started with a new tweed coat, french toast stacked into cake, being sung to, birthday wishes made, a messy attempt to blow out 29 candles. Daniel had a lofty itinerary for the day, starting the morning with a little road trip to Wray’s Castle and later exploring the village of Grasmere. We spent most afternoon doing my low-key favourites: a long walk, afternoon tea, trip to the bookstore, the most heavenly impromptu fireside nap and a hearty dinner in. I requested birthday supper plans at the Wild Boar Inn be postponed to the next day, so cosiness mode could ensue into the night without interruption.

Whilst in Grasmere, we stumbled upon Grasmere Gingerbread, a historically famed Lake District indulgence which may be one of those most crumbly wonders I’ve ever tasted. I even nibbled on gingerbread until falling asleep, reading Ambleside Alibi (a thriller I appropriately picked up in Ambleside on the way home.)

We drove through a “spooky night” to the Wild Boar Inn for my official birthday dinner, one day later than originally planned. It may well be my most treasured restaurant in the world. The Inn has the distinct air old England married with country kitchen devoted to classic faire. We ended up going two nights in a row. The first night I indulged in the most glorious Fish and Chips of my existence. The second evening was devoted to a butternut squash and cranberry pie. Both evenings ended with sharing sticky toffee pudding by the fire.

It was five days of muddy walks, hearty home meals, the warmest fireside conversations. Laughter and nostalgia which roared well into the night. Ringing in the last year of my twenties with Daniel and oldest friend meant the world. I felt so very loved, and am ready to celebrate this last year of my own decade. It’s the year I will sign a book deal. It’s the year I will finally wear my wedding dress, nearly six years into marriage. It’s the year I’ll see Taylor Swift in concert. It’s my first full year as a Brit in training. It’s the year I’ll start drinking more water, which is probably most important. This is 29, and I’m ready for it.

Our first trip to the Lake District felt like a dreamy orientation to a place I know will be a regular weekend escape from London life. We hardly scratched the surface of the region’s wonders. Although I was quite happy to return home to Notting Hill, we’re already planning to visit Lake District seasonally to explore the region as it blooms alongside England’s seasons; I can’t imagine a better place to witness that distinct magic unfold.