But it isn't easy because of the Duddon, a large and very dangerous estuary, that runs between the two towns.
To make the journey I take an old diesel train which snakes a path between the hills (at least one of which is designated a mountain) and the marshes alongside the Duddon, crossing the estuary on a bridge miles inland.
The journey is picturesque, with lambs skittering about right now, and only the odd clutch of houses clinging to the hillsides. The rain this afternoon created a misty, moisty sort of atmosphere but there's always something to look at.
It's not just the scenery that's exotic. Today one of the other passengers on the train had a pet rabbit that was bouncing about on one of the carriage tables.
At first I thought it might be a leveret, a young hare, but its keeper assured me it was a rabbit.
There it sat, rather lazily, as the ticket collector walked by making no attempt to charge for the carriage of an animal.
It seemed fairly dozy but it was a splendid looking animal making the journey quite special.
Jonathan Brind