janisj

Sounds like you had a great time in the Cotswolds. Not everyone warns against them. The main problem w/ places like Bourton on the Water or Bibury is mostly limited to summer weekends and bank holidays but most villages have very few visitors.

julia_t

Looking forward to more. Great trip report!

Friendship_Bay

Interesting, thanks. Saving this one for a few years, but bookmarking

PatrickLondon

Seagulls are the chavs of the bird world. They will come in from the sea opportunistically: towns and cities offer plenty of pickings, and buildings that offer cliff-like habitats too. London has thousands of them.

ElendilPickle

Great trip report!

>>Joey ordered something called "Faggots" and I hate to admit that we were amused by the name of that entree(he had spotted dick for dessert).<<

We had dinner with julia_t at a pub in Selsley back in 2007. There was a gorgeous rainbow over the Severn Valley, and we'd all gone outside to ooh and ahh about it. Hearing our accents, one of the pub regulars asked where we were from. We told him, and he said, "I bet you don't have faggots on the menu over there!"

Lee Ann

ancestralvoices

Day 6 THE COTSWOLDS continued

Awoke and went to the main house for yet another enormous breakfast. We decided today would be a great day to visit the Lavender fields, so off we went in the car and we were there in no more than 10 minutes.

It's more than one would think. The fields seemed to go on forever. We walked into them, going deeper and deeper, and the scent was overpowering. Joey didn't like the smell, too intense. There are many insects that seem to source the fields also, but I kind of liked that. Not really a whole lot to tell about them except I would urge anyone who's in the area to see them. I certainly haven't seen anything like that here in the US, though I'm sure it must exist somewhere.

Next we happened upon a falconry center. What I liked about it was that the demonstrator would describe how all of the birds differed in their flight methods. It seemed to me that it should be called a Bird of Prey center because there were certainly more than just falcons and the sport of falconry really wasn't touched upon that much. He would release the birds and let them fly high high into the sky and we were able to get a sense of how keen their vision was based on what he would lure them back with. This was really something to see in person.

Back to Bourton on the Water for tea this time(breakfast is so filling that lunch wasn't always desired). Can't remember the name, honestly, but Joey wanted to walk around that village a little more.

Then we drove to Stanton and took a rather long, circular walk to Stanway and back(the return was a different route). I really enjoyed this walk. It was uphill for awhile(this section was part of the Cotswold Way) then woods and cute cottages before reaching Stanway. Stanway house was closed when we arrived. Would have liked to step inside. Finally the walk circled back around to Stanton. We could easily have detoured on another path to Snowshill(our village) but our car was in Stanton. Probably took around 2 hours but I would not be able to tell you how many miles---maybe 3 or 4. I would absolutely recommend this walk to anyone staying in the area. Tim Harrison(sheepscombe proprietor) told us about it.

Next, we went back to Sheepscombe to make calls, check emails, etc. All was well at home.

By now it was evening and we decided to simply walk to Snowshill Arms for dinner. Lovely old place, good food, that same wonderful scrumpy, but there really weren't many people there so we didn't have the terrific fun pub night that we had had the previous evening. No complaints, though.

Back to sheepscombe to fall asleep at the sound of bleating sheep...

Next: Slaughters and Blenheim Palace

luvtravl

Loving your trip report!!! Leaving next week for a similar, albeit shorter, trip. I hope the lavender is still in bloom while we are there. Looking forward to your next installment......

ancestralvoices

Day 7 THE COTSWOLDS

We needed to decide between Blenheim Palace and Sudeley Castle. I had been to Blenheim once before, but Joey really wanted to see it, so that's where we went. It was very crowded, massive, palatial, and impressive. The gardens alone could take hours to visit. Joey loved it. I prefer more intimate attractions. We spent a great deal of time there and I was getting anxious about having time to see The Slaughters.

Joey had his fill, and we drove back to fairy tale land to begin a Slaughter to Slaughter walk. Upper Slaughter is a dreamy village(but aren't they all?)--and we passed a water mill and ventured out towards Lower Slaughter. Beautiful walk, beautiful day, beautiful scents, and lots of slugs. It was as if they were going somewhere important. I have never seen so many of them in my life, and was hoping to catch them mating(I realize this sounds strange--will explain). I once saw a nature program that showed the mating ritual of slugs, and I can honestly say that it was the most passionate lovemaking I have ever witnessed(not that I've seen a lot of lovemaking in person! ha). Twisting and turning and enveloping each other, with fluid oozing every which way, it makes all other animals seem boring by comparison.
No such event happened in that Slaughter pasture, at least for my eyes to see.

After The Slaughters, we decided to go to Chipping Campden for Dinner. Can't remember a thing about where we ate. Chipping Campden was a larger version of all the Cotswolds villages we had seen before. Visually quite stunning, and the buildings seemed to be the most golden.

Back to Sheepscombe for our last night. I was sad that we were leaving the area the next day, so walked alone in our pasture taking photos of the lavender sky, and then strolled through Snowshill one last time. I was convinced the best part of our trip was ending. This timeless area may very well be my favorite part of England. Flanneruk--you are one lucky guy!

Next: Elgar, Shrewsbury

Maudie

Enjoying your report, we went to a lot of the same places in June. Did you go to Showshill Manor, I couldn't see it mentioned, stunning garden and we chose Sudeley instead of Blenheim, again another beautiful garden.

As for Bourton on the Water, we visited two days in a row and couldn't find a carpark, it was literally swarming with people so you were very lucky to find it so quiet.

We very much enjoyed the "Slaughters" walk too.

Looking forward to reading more.

ancestralvoices

Day 8 LITTLE MALVERN TO SHREWSBURY

We awoke to rain. It somehow made sense that it should rain as we left the beautiful Cotswolds.

I programmed Simon to get us to Shrewsbury, but with a stop in LIttle Malvern to see Sir Edward Elgar's gravesite and then to Lower Broadheath outside of Worcester to see his birthplace and museum.

We said our goodbyes to The Harrisons, Sheepscombe,Snowshill, and The Cotswolds. I have left a review on Tripadvisor with some photos.

The wet and rainy drive to Little Malvern went by rather quickly, and we drove a kind of touristic drive across the Malverns. These "hills" kind of resembled little mountains. Almost perfectly formed little things. I can't really explain it but they just weren't moving me in any way. Maybe it's because it was our first rainy day, or maybe because the villages in The Malverns seemed kind of bleak looking compared to the honey colored Cotswolds. Not sure of the reason, but we did get to Elgar's grave which was in a disappointingly located cemetery behind a church that was directly on a main road. Again, after all the beautiful cemeteries in the Cotswolds and the memorable one in Rye, this weedy cemetery with the sound of traffic nearby just didn't have the atmosphere I was hoping for. Also, the stone itself was much more in honor of Lady Elgar(his wife) and his own name was at the bottom of the same stone almost as an afterthought.

To sum this part up: a little disappointing, but if our trip had begun in this area it may have been thrilling. Sometimes I think it's a matter of timing, weather, and location that can have leave an impression on travel destinations.

We then drove to Lower Broadheath to visit the cottage where Elgar was born and raised, and the Elgar museum. The cottage was quite small, and very cute, and it was nice for me to view and feel the surroundings that may have inspired him in so many ways. The museum was more than I thought it would be, housing nearly everything one would want to know about this master composer.

It was now time to drive to our destination for the next 2 nights. Shrewsbury in Shropshire.

It's amusing to me how quickly one can get from destination to destination in England. Upon reaching Shrewsbury, we were trying to locate our B and B called "Catherine of Aragon Suite". The owners have since renamed it "The Old House Suites" because they've converted another room into a guest suite. Simon, our GPS, was not up to par this very day. He never seemed to grasp Shrewsbury. The owner had told us to park the car in front of a certain pub, and then he would come and collect us and our luggage. This we did, and he arrived in no time. His name is Tony Walters--and he turned out to be one of our favorite B and B hosts. We walked up a hill to his enormous old house, entered, and stepped back in time once again. Up some stairs to our "room" and what was waiting for us was our own living room, a small library, long hall, large bedroom, and a very unusual bathroom. Also were flowers, champagne, biscuits, cereals, soaps of all kinds, etc.

We unpacked our things, relaxed a bit, and then headed out to explore Shrewsbury. It had started raining again. Down the hill from our house was the best part of Shrewsbury(in my opinion). Half timbered houses and storefronts were everywhere, little alleys called "shuts" would connect the streets and give pedestrians short cuts through the town. It's really a gorgeous place, bustling and busy. In all honesty it kind of reminded me of York---both in atmosphere and architecture. Darwin is from Shrewsbury, the poet Wilfred Owen lived there, and the wonderful poet AE Housman wrote of Shrewsbury and Shropshire.

Walking from Fish Street is a treasure trove of Tudor Architecture. Everywhere you look and go are historic buildings, streets, churches, and monuments. We stopped in the Old Market Hall and looked around at this quintessential(to our American eyes) English town and were very impressed. Butcher's square, the castle, two churches looking as though they're in competition with one another because they sit so close together, elevated on a kind of upper quadrant of the town that looks down at the lower town(by maybe 20 steps). The layout feels medieval. Lovely, lovely town!

We had dinner at a pub directly below those two churches(St Alkmund's and St Julians Churches).

Afterwards we went to another pub that was sort of through one of the shuts, and met a large group of British teachers(some of whom teach English in Italy). We spent the next 3 hours with them---a really fun group of people and they all really love their hometown. One odd thing was that they asked us to explain why we were in Shrewsbury? They said that not many Americans visit this part of England and were very curious how we ended up there. Maybe this is why were treated so extremely well by everyone--who knows--but we really like the people in this part of England. Fun, funny, and they like to party! We had a blast that night!

Stayed out til around 1 AM and then back to the Walters home to sleep.

Next: Shrewsbury, Church Stretton and the Long Mynd

ancestralvoices

Maudie, I just read your trip report. What a terrific holiday you had, and yes we seemed to be in many of the same places. I'm sure that, like myself, you want to return. Don't you miss the planning as well? I wish I could remember all the details of the food, drink, etc the way you did. Anyway I'm glad you had a wonderful time.

irishface

I am truly enjoying your report. I too like Sudely better than Blenheim, but I have been lucky enough to visit both, so maybe it isn't fair to compare.

I remember pulling into the Shrewsbury tourist office late afternoon 25 years ago. The fellow on the desk said there was some sort of special event going on and that rooms were really tight. He called and called to no avail and someone at the last call suggested someone who was not listed on his books. She said she had a room which she didn't usually rent out, but if I were desperate, I could have it. I took it for the equivalent of about $8 for the night. Otherwise it was one of the fancy hotels for 60 or so and that was beyond the budget.

When I arrived, I was shown to the room--top floor, slanting ceiling (lucky I am short!), single bed, chair and shelf by the bed, barely enough room to move, bathroom two flights down. But it was immaculately clean and the hostess was friendly and thoughtful.

As I sat on the bed writing in my journal that evening, a mouse ran across the floor and disappeared into the wall. I am not buddy-buddy with mice, but they don't freak me out the way they do some people. I got up and stuffed a couple of paperbags into the hole and hung my suitcase on a hook on the wall as I didn't want to take poor mousey on an unplanned trip away from his home. After much debate with myself, I told the hostess at breakfast about my visitor. The poor woman was very embarrassed and said husband wouled have to deal with it after work.

I did enjoy a brief walkabout in Shrewsbury. wish I had known about Brother Caedfael then as I would have enjoyed seeing his stomping grounds. Oh, well, someday another trip.

ancestralvoices

Day 9 SHREWSBURY, CHURCH STRETTON, and the LONG MYND(Shropshire Hills)

We woke up early and Tony's wife Mary had prepared us a terrific breakfast which was served in our room.

Tony had told us the day before that he was going to give us a tour of the house and grounds so we were excited about this. This man knew everything about the home, Shrewsbury, and history in general. A very knowledgeable and quite witty man who had me laughing all the time. It was a pleasure just being around him. He also told us about the family wine business, and how his son was one of the actors of the film "Shining Through". His son played the boy whom Melanie Griffith was taking care of in the house run by Nazi Liam Neeson. Obviously he is all grown up now.

We then drove to Church Stretton. This was a surprisingly cute town, surrounded by hills, and utterly charming. We used it as a base for our venture out into the hills.

We began our walk up the Long Mynd--and I was beginning to notice why it is called LONG. This uphill climb seemed to go on forever, but it was beautiful. Finally, we reached the top, which was a plateau that reminded me of the Moors up north. Covered in heather and bracken with sheep running about everywhere, it was wonderfully desolate and windy with views all around of the valleys below and the surrounding hills. Well worth the effort(there is also, apparently, a twisty curvy drive that takes you near the top if you wouldn't want to walk).

The descent was much easier, obviously, with a beautiful view the entire walk down the path.

Housman wrote of the area as "Those Blue Remembered Hills".

Back to Church Stretton. We had tea and scones in a courtyard behind a charming little tea shop.

Decided we'd better start shopping for gifts for family back home so we strolled the shops, bought a few things, and then drove over to nearby Stokesay Castle. I preferred the 16th century Gatehouse with it's many carvings to the castle proper. Beautiful setting and grounds.

We then returned to Shrewsbury and went to their beautiful park called the Quarry. We just sat and people watched, listening to the birds and absorbing the atmosphere. It was time to find a laundrette, so Joey went back to the house and I grabbed our clothes and found a laundrette in another part of the town. I was bored, and there wasn't much to do in that part of Shrewsbury(couldn't tell you now exactly where it was).

Came back, got Joey, out to dinner, became tired, and we turned in early.

Next: Llandudno, North Wales

ancestralvoices

Irishface---what a great story! I think that those types of little events in our lives are the ones that stick with us the most, and that we look back on fondly. Poor little mouse! I'd have tried to befriend it, feed it, and name it!

Glad you were able to have a walk around in Shrewsbury. I think it's a gem of a town.

I wish I were a better writer with the details but honestly it would get boring(our trip--not others') if I wrote every move of every minute...so I'm just keeping the highlights for readers. Thanks for your comments.

ancestralvoices

Actually, here is a small detail that I left out: The bathroom at Sheepscombe house in The Cotswolds had everything one would want and need---but I think they went overboard in providing Enema bags to their guests! I have never seen this offered in any bathroom on my travels, and somehow the idea of using an enema bag that someone else may have used doesn't appeal. I kept wondering if other guests walk in and say:
"Oh look honey, how thoughtful and yet convenient too! There are two enema bags here next to the toilet that we can both use tonight after a long day of consuming! Do you want the red bag and I'll use the beige?"

annhig

The Cotswolds had everything one would want and need---but I think they went overboard in providing Enema bags to their guests! I have never seen this offered in any bathroom on my travels,>>

nor me, av. in fact, it might be fun to take a straw pole on fodors and ask how many of us have EVER seen this - i bet it's not many.

I agree that it would be rather off-putting. do you think that it was a comment on local cooking?

ancestralvoices

Ha! A comment on local cooking! That's funny annhig!

I'm just not sure. It really just made us laugh. I would definitely stay at Sheepscombe again in a heartbeat, though. One of our favorite places we stayed. A bucolic wonderland.

ancestralvoices

Day 10 LLANDUDNO, NORTH WALES

Woke up to another beautiful breakfast in our room, said our goodbyes to Tony and Mary, and gave them the key. Oddly, the first key I gave them didn't belong to them---and then I realized that it was the key to Sheepscombe B and B. Suddenly I felt terrible, raced to the post office, and mailed it back to Jackie. I tried calling her but couldn't reach anyone, and I'm just hoping that she had a spare key for our room so that she could clean it for the next guests(and perhaps prepare the bathroom with some fresh enema bags--since that seemed important at Sheepscombe).

Simon was really getting on my nerves in Shrewsbury, he never seemed to get a fix on the streets, and I didn't want him to lead us into the wrong part of Wales so I turned him off and used the map instead. Easy straight drive.

We arrived in Llandudno earlier than expected(this always seemed to be the case) and were at first impressed with it's location on the sea, with the Great and Little Orme flanking it's sides. Checked into our Hotel called The Waverley, which was managed/owned by a very helpful proprietor named Bob. Our room had a bay window that gave us a terrific view of the town. The Waverley is at the end of a long line of Victorian Bed and Breakfasts situated along the promenade, and it sits higher up than the others which allows for the terrific view.

We unpacked and went out to explore the town. After about 10 minutes Joey became very quiet. I asked him what was wrong and he said that the town felt very sad to him. Joey is a writer, and is one of those types who feels things very intensely. I told him we needed to eat lunch and his mood would improve. We did, and it didn't. I thought a walk on the pier would be nice, so we went into the many arcades, tacky shops, etc. Joey became even more quiet, and at this point I was beginning to feel a little down as well. Why? There was something about Llandudno that just felt sad to both of us. It seemed to be a resort town that had long ago seen it's days of glory. When we looked closely, we could see that, for instance, the Grand Hotel was no longer truly grand, but rather a peeling paint, old carpet kind of place that sadly wanted very much to relive it's heyday. These impressions are just our opinions, and I don't want to offend anyone who may be reading this report. Other tourists seemed to enjoy Llandudno, but we simply could not muster enthusiasm for this town. There is nothing to strongly criticize, either, so I don't want to deter anyone from visiting, as it is in such a beautiful location, with a wonderful crescent shape around the promenade. It wasn't dirty, or loud or even obviously tacky(which wouldn't bother me because we had considered visiting Blackpool for this very reason). It just felt sad, and depressive.

Went back to the Hotel to catch up on emails, phone calls, etc. I was suddenly feeling very worried about my 14 year old dog that I had left at home to be cared for by my neighbor and 2 friends. I called them to ask about him. His name is Coda. Everyone said he was fine, and waiting for me to come home. For some reason I didn't believe them when they told me this, but I attributed my feeling to the semi sad atmosphere of Llandudno.

Went to a pub later that evening, and were enjoying our conversations with some local Welsh people, when some tourists from Liverpool walked inside and suddenly most of the Welsh people who were speaking English with us switched to speaking Welsh! This seemed very strange, and there was some tension. It was made to be very obvious that these locals did not like either Liverpudlians or the English in general. Still not certain as to why this would be, because we had met Scottish and Irish people earlier in the trip who said they enjoy the English and that those older hard feelings from the past had dissipated. This was absolutely not true with many of the Welsh we encountered that evening and the next day in Conwy. Obviously I would never judge the people of one land by a few, I am just relating our experiences from our 2 days in Wales. This very cold atmosphere did not lift our spirits, so we
went back to The Waverley and had some beers on the terrace with some wonderful Danish guests who were staying there as well. They liked The Waverley, but weren't as fond of Llandudno itself.

Next: Llandudno, Conwy, Beddgelert

ancestralvoices

Day 11 LLANDUDNO, BEDDGELERT, CONWY

After breakfast I told Joey we needed to take a drive up into the mountains of Snowdonia and experience the beauty of the Welsh countryside. This we did. The area was majestic and anyone who enjoys mountains would really love visiting the area. I'm going to hold back here, and just not say too much.

We arrived in a slate stoned village called Beddgelert. The weather was sunny and perfect. We had a nice tea in the village, and walked down by the rushing stream that flows through the center of the place. We then visited the very VERY sad grave of Gelert. This grave, with it's terribly sad story, was all it took to put Joey right back into that moody state, It didn't matter whether the story was true or not, because Joey actually loved dogs much more than he does people, and stories like this really get to him. I'm hoping that I'm not portraying him to sound like a wimp---he is not, he's just a sensitive, young Italian writer who absorbs his surroundings like a sponge, and bases his observations and impressions on feelings and emotions rather than on majestic beauty or superficial splendor. Joey is planning on writing his own trip report as well, which of course will interest me--seeing the same vacation from someone else's eyes, but we wouldn't expect Fodor's readers to want to read this trip all over again.

I'm assuming the Fodor's readers know the story of Gelert--but here it is in case you're not familiar with it:

"Llewellyn, prince of Wales, is said to have loved the chase above all else but always took with him his Irish wolf- dog, Gelert. The prince had many hounds, but Gelert was his favourite and was always there for the morning hunt. However, one day Gelert did not turn up and eventually Llewellyn went off with his followers and the hounds but could not enjoy his day and in the end hurried back home to find out what had happened to Gelert. He was met by Gelert, giving his usual greeting, but Llewellyn was horrified to find that Gelert was covered in blood. Hurrying into the castle, he went to see his infant son but found the cradle overturned and empty, with no sign of the child, but with blood everywhere.

Concluding that Gelert must have killed and eaten the baby, Llewellyn drew his sword and plunged it into the hound. The stricken Gelert gave a long-drawn out howl as he died and this cry was followed by a child's wail. Llewellyn searched for the source of this sound and found his child under a pile of bedding from the cradle, completely unharmed, and close by was the body of a gaunt wolf, which had obviously been slain by Gelert after a bloody battle.

Horrified at what he had done, and stricken by remorse, Llewellyn had the body of Gelert buried with due pomp and the place was afterwards known as Bedd Gelert (the grave of Gelert), as was the town that grew up near to it."

The above story made me want to be with my own dog and hug him and roll around on the floor with him. Maybe it was just a point in the trip where we were missing some of the things and people from home(though rarely do I ever miss home when I'm away!).


We left Beddgelert and drove to Conwy. Toured the castle, went into the smallest house in Great Britain, walked along the dirty harbor, strolled the town, had a beer, and then drove back to Llandudno.

We decided to walk up the Great Orme, did, and both agreed that we wanted to leave Llandudno right then and there. I paid Bob for both nights at The Waverley which is only fair as I had reserved for 2 nights, and we began our drive to The Lake District but a day early.

We reserved a room at The Queens Head in Hawkshead. Very lucky indeed. Arrived in the evening to the most beautiful sky I have ever seen. Fiery orange/lavender with a flock of Rooks flying around everywhere. It was around 9 PM. The Queen's Head was another one of those atmospheric, timbered, olde world English Inns that fulfills the American fantasy of England. Truly stunning, with a fantastic pub and local beers. We unpacked and raced downstairs to drink up and and sat outside at their cafe tables and told the locals all about our previous time in Wales. They explained that there is a bitterness because of many valid reasons on the part of the Welsh---Summer homes of the English raising expenses in their villages, some Welsh would burn the Summer homes, Thatcher ruined their economy getting rid of the coal mines, etc. They did say that tourism would be better if the English visitors were treated better, but also told us not to judge all Welsh by a few--which we would hopefully not have done anyway.

Great evening at the Queens Head, and a deep sound sleep followed.

Next: Hawkshead

irishface

I love your story! wish we could read Joey's as well to see his take on things. I am reliving a trip that covered much of the same territory you are visiting with a few variations. I love how you put in quotes from various writers as various sights and sounds remind you of them. Thanks!

Enema bags! Did you check the plug in them? Some of them have a plug with hose for the-er-enema as well as just a regular plug so that the bag can be used as a hot water bottle? Sometimes that hotwater bottle is just the ticket to take the chill off the sheets on a cool rainy day even in summer. Just a thought.