Walking the Cotswolds, Part 1
Nov 26th, 2006 | 10:37 AM
#62
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Joined: Jun 2005
Posts: 154
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As I read your reply about the bluetits and the cream I was thinking "but we've covered this whole subject 5 or 6 posts ago. Didn't Bellini read it??" But no! It was covered on the AOL England/Rest of England board. Getting my boards confused. This is what the post says:
<<You were right - mostly birds - but here's a thing.
Birds in some areas have been found to be able to differentiate between skimmed milk and full milk. I can't tell you which University tested this, but there was a practical study that showed that the birds (usually blue tits) weren't interested in skimmed milk.
Some local authorities no longer allow foil tops for doorstep delivery, because it's been shown that contamination from birds' beaks is minimal, bthe hole they make admits bacteria from other sources.
(I learned all this in Advanced Food Health and Safety.)>>
<<You were right - mostly birds - but here's a thing.
Birds in some areas have been found to be able to differentiate between skimmed milk and full milk. I can't tell you which University tested this, but there was a practical study that showed that the birds (usually blue tits) weren't interested in skimmed milk.
Some local authorities no longer allow foil tops for doorstep delivery, because it's been shown that contamination from birds' beaks is minimal, bthe hole they make admits bacteria from other sources.
(I learned all this in Advanced Food Health and Safety.)>>
Nov 29th, 2006 | 09:45 AM
#63
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Joined: Jun 2005
Posts: 154
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Pronunciation help please! This isn't an addition to my usual thread but I'm reading a Dick Francis mystery and can't pronounce: "Laphroaig" The novel is "Proof" in case anyone's read it. I'm ADDICTED to Dick Francis.
Nov 29th, 2006 | 02:45 PM
#65
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Joined: Jun 2005
Posts: 154
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I just went to the England board and someone sent me a the Laphroaig website with this on it:
<<There are 3 main ingredients for making Laphroaig - Barley, Water, and Yeast, but the secret ingredient is the People."
Laphroaig (La-froyg) is the story of a community. An uncompromising, tough and determined group of people who work to ensure that this defining whisky has always remained true to its origins>>
<<There are 3 main ingredients for making Laphroaig - Barley, Water, and Yeast, but the secret ingredient is the People."
Laphroaig (La-froyg) is the story of a community. An uncompromising, tough and determined group of people who work to ensure that this defining whisky has always remained true to its origins>>
Dec 6th, 2006 | 09:56 AM
#67
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Joined: Jun 2005
Posts: 154
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No, it's not posted anywhere else, I just am dragging my feet writing it. Christmas busy-ness. Actually, I'm going to change the way I take notes on each trip by buying a digital recorder - probably one that records 8 hours - and that way I'll have my own little voice telling me all the neat bits that I want to remember and keep for my trip reports.
It sure beats writing stuff down en route. That was the pits this year.
It sure beats writing stuff down en route. That was the pits this year.
Jan 7th, 2007 | 01:01 PM
#69
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Joined: Jun 2005
Posts: 154
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Part VI: Painswick to Dursley
Saturday, September 23, 2006
I draaaaaaggg myself back to this computer to write write write again. Boy, have I been putting this off and it only gets worse as the weeks wear on. Nevertheless we begin again. We start back in Painswick and say goodbye to Thorn Cottage and Mrs. Blatchley and the teeny tiny skinny bed with the faux fur coverlet and the bathroom where you must duck to enter. We didn't hold out much hope for a place called "Dursley B&B". That's it. Just plain old Dursley B&B. I expected an old woman, grumpy, no other lodgers and a breakfast begrudgingly given. We'll see!
Still, it was a lovely day to walk out of Painswick and we went out by way of the church with its 99 yews. I had briefly read about said yews and ended up liking that part of Painswick the best. I wanted to walk down every short avenue, under the clipped arches but the path was waiting and the morning was wearing on. We took seven or eight photos and found the proper street to head out to the countryside. We followed a woman in her wellies out walking the dog on that Saturday morning and followed her out to the fields and rolling hills - an astoudingly beautiful, sunny day. We followed the signage and walked for an hour or two through gorgeous farms with huge trees - big enough to sit in! (see photo), past small holdings with llamas just shorn looking at us with little interest, and onto our first hills of the day.
I usually walked with the OS map in hand as is my wont on all trips. Paul will tell me periodically to "look up!" and get my face out of the map so that I can actually see what's passing (when we're in a car). But now I really had to look out to see where I was walking. Probably a good thing for me as the scenery was breathtaking even though the map kept calling my name. Anyway, if you have an OS 179 to hand, you see there is Pitchcomb Wood just southwest of Painswick. Somewhere in here we lost the trail - just around Randwick, don't ask me how. We ended up in a built-up area I think just north of Ebley and went around and around trying to find our way out. After asking directions from several people we found our way back to the Cotswold Way and started following it once again. I wanted to get to Kings Stanley because I had dreams of another Cream Tea complete with scones, jam and that glorious thick cream and I thought that Kings Stanley would be just the place to find a tea shop. Ahhhh. After a stop to mend the poor toes on my left foot, we continued on and I discovered just what those little black lines on the map were, near the straighter black solid lines (railroad tracks). Fences! Fences to keep one from falling down the hill and onto the tracks. We skirted one such fence and started down the hill and crossed the tracks.
We crossed a little metal bridge (at least Paul says it was metal - I don't remember) and for some reason decided to go AROUND Kings Stanley probably because that's the way the Cotswold Way went and possibly also because we had had enough of getting lost on little city streets that ended up in dead ends. Also, I placated myself with the thought that tonight we would dine out at an Indian restaurant in Dursley as there was sure to be one. ESPECIALLY since our friend in the pub said there was nothing good in Dursley - there was sure to be at least some Indian takeout. Yea! Onward. We had some climbing to do in Pen Wood but then the path ran more or less alongside the top of the hill in the woods. We had glimpses down through the trees of people enjoying their Saturday - as we were enjoying ours! I had no laundry or vacuuming to do, no cooking or dishes, no running to Walmart or BJ's - nothing but walking in the woods. It was great.
I forgot to mention that Barbara Blatchley thought we should phone ahead to make a reservation at our next B&B since we only JUST found room in Painswick. It seems that September can be a bit busy but then that was Painswick and we were headed for Dursley - not the same type of town apparently. She graciously hooked us up - called herself - with the only B&B that was listed, the said "Dursley B&B" so at least we had a room waiting for us when we got there. We continued on the path and kept looking for a certain sign for "Hetty Pegler's Tump" whatever that was (an ancient long barrow apparently) but we never did find it. I was too busy looking at the map and all the close lines indicating steep hills that we had to traverse before we could have our "Indian" that evening. I also forgot to mention that we had tried to book into Hodgecombe Farm that was in this area around Hetty Pegler's Tump but that was booked solid. Oh well. Into dastardly Dursley we went.
Down down down the hill and we came into a quite normal city street. Stores! People out and about. Teens hanging around as they do everywhere. Hmmm! Could almost be home. I could live here. We went through the town and I read aloud what I had written on the margin of my map: "Dursley B&B, 7 Prospect Lane, £25/pp". Paul ducked into a pub and asked and we were directed just a short way down the street but we were having a hard time finding Prospect Lane. There were terraced houses with an auto body shop (do the Brits call them "panel beaters" as the Kiwis do?) at the end of the row, with a small lane between the auto shop and the houses. Prospect Lane. Oh boy, did it ever look like there were NO good prospects down that lane. A little grundgy looking or what. We took the right and a right again and looked at the rear of all these terraced dwellings. Number 15, number 13, number 11, number.........., here we are, Number 7.
A small greenhouse was attached by the back door and we could see someone moving inside. This has got to be the place but I don't remember seeing a B&B sign anywhere. We knocked on the door and a woman answered and I said "We're Paul and Liz - we called about a room for the night?" Oh yes, the woman said, and I'm Cecilia. Hello Cecilia. I noticed she walked somewhat with a limp as we followed her through the kitchen and into the hall. We chatted about the day and talked about where we walked that day. She said there was only one other guest - a gentleman - and he was leaving early in the morning. We passed by a bathroom and I saw the shower and mentioned how that would feel wonderful as walking could be a slightly dirty business at times. She said, "Yes, you could take a shower down here though most guests use the bathroom upstairs. Either is fine." Hmmm. We followed her up this very small staircase. I'm only 5'1" and with my backpack I could just fit. Paul was behind me and I was wondering what kinds of gymnastics he was doing just to get up the stairs.
She said, "This is your room."
To say it almost took my breath away would be an overstatement but really, I was very very surprised. There was wide plank flooring, a large, low bed, original art on the walls, a sunny window and I can't remember what else but it was LOVELY. Absolutely lovely. Directly across the narrow hallway was the bathroom with a HUGE clawfoot tub (to go with the huge towels already placed on our bed), and about a mile down, at the other end of the bathroom was the sink and toilet. I can't say exactly why this particular B&B made me so happy, but it did. Paul said "I think I'll opt out of the shower and have a bath instead." I replied that I was going to do exactly the same and true to form, he said "You first!" The water was so hot that you could have made a cup of tea with it. There was a basket with all sorts of "hotel size" shampoos and soaps and I chose a couple. Ahhhhhhhh. It was heaven. After Paul's bath we headed out to the Indian restaurant chattering all the way about our "find" in Dursley.
The Indian food wasn't quite as good as we had hoped or were used to getting but the Nan was hot, the selection was good and we ordered the whole darn menu. We had so much food (see photo) I didn't think we'd eat half of it. Instead we ate all of it. We also polished off a bottle of wine without even thinking about it - something we never do at home even though we have wine just about every night of our lives. I generally only drink a half glass and we always use the same bottle for two nights. Whoosh - that bottle of wine was history at Dursley Tandoori.
Back to Cecilia's we went, sated and happy. That bed was sooooo comfortable after the squashed night at Thorn but besides that, I think it was one of the most comfortable beds of the trip though there really wasn't a horrid one (apart from Painswick) in the bunch. But the ROOM was just so delightful - and I didn't take a single picture and I wish I had. After a marvelous night's sleep we packed up yet again and headed down to breakfast. The dining/living room was long and lovely and I DID take some photos of that, so please scroll back up this report to get to the link, then look at the photos. There were cloth napkins, wooden butter knives for each of us, and freesia in a vase. I love freesia - they're right up there with roses in my book. The breakfast was absolutely wonderful and we were all by ourselves for most of it with classical music playing in the background. Cecilia eventually came in and, while standing, joined us and we asked her about the B&B and her life in general.
She has three children (we saw them in a photo on the wall, on the beach) and lived in Dubai for most of her married life but she is Swedish and was raised there and is now divorced. (I had said to Paul when we arrived that I detected an accent and thought Danish or perhaps Swedish as the furnishings had that flavor somewhat.) Yes, much of the furnishings in the room are from Sweden, no she did not attend art school as I asked her after looking at the figure drawing on the wall and mentioned the other original artwork in the house. We discussed the world, why and how people travel, what people expect in travelling, what she would like to do, where we were going next etc etc. As she stood she held her right arm and hand up with her left hand. She explained that she was in a very serious auto accident in Dubai. It was apparent that her left side was partly out of commission and I could not imagine how she did all the sheets and towels and other cleaning required for the house, but she did. And with elegance.
We loved Cecilia! Really, if you're ever in the neighborhood...
We left that Sunday morning and headed for Tormarton, our last stop before Bath.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
I draaaaaaggg myself back to this computer to write write write again. Boy, have I been putting this off and it only gets worse as the weeks wear on. Nevertheless we begin again. We start back in Painswick and say goodbye to Thorn Cottage and Mrs. Blatchley and the teeny tiny skinny bed with the faux fur coverlet and the bathroom where you must duck to enter. We didn't hold out much hope for a place called "Dursley B&B". That's it. Just plain old Dursley B&B. I expected an old woman, grumpy, no other lodgers and a breakfast begrudgingly given. We'll see!
Still, it was a lovely day to walk out of Painswick and we went out by way of the church with its 99 yews. I had briefly read about said yews and ended up liking that part of Painswick the best. I wanted to walk down every short avenue, under the clipped arches but the path was waiting and the morning was wearing on. We took seven or eight photos and found the proper street to head out to the countryside. We followed a woman in her wellies out walking the dog on that Saturday morning and followed her out to the fields and rolling hills - an astoudingly beautiful, sunny day. We followed the signage and walked for an hour or two through gorgeous farms with huge trees - big enough to sit in! (see photo), past small holdings with llamas just shorn looking at us with little interest, and onto our first hills of the day.
I usually walked with the OS map in hand as is my wont on all trips. Paul will tell me periodically to "look up!" and get my face out of the map so that I can actually see what's passing (when we're in a car). But now I really had to look out to see where I was walking. Probably a good thing for me as the scenery was breathtaking even though the map kept calling my name. Anyway, if you have an OS 179 to hand, you see there is Pitchcomb Wood just southwest of Painswick. Somewhere in here we lost the trail - just around Randwick, don't ask me how. We ended up in a built-up area I think just north of Ebley and went around and around trying to find our way out. After asking directions from several people we found our way back to the Cotswold Way and started following it once again. I wanted to get to Kings Stanley because I had dreams of another Cream Tea complete with scones, jam and that glorious thick cream and I thought that Kings Stanley would be just the place to find a tea shop. Ahhhh. After a stop to mend the poor toes on my left foot, we continued on and I discovered just what those little black lines on the map were, near the straighter black solid lines (railroad tracks). Fences! Fences to keep one from falling down the hill and onto the tracks. We skirted one such fence and started down the hill and crossed the tracks.
We crossed a little metal bridge (at least Paul says it was metal - I don't remember) and for some reason decided to go AROUND Kings Stanley probably because that's the way the Cotswold Way went and possibly also because we had had enough of getting lost on little city streets that ended up in dead ends. Also, I placated myself with the thought that tonight we would dine out at an Indian restaurant in Dursley as there was sure to be one. ESPECIALLY since our friend in the pub said there was nothing good in Dursley - there was sure to be at least some Indian takeout. Yea! Onward. We had some climbing to do in Pen Wood but then the path ran more or less alongside the top of the hill in the woods. We had glimpses down through the trees of people enjoying their Saturday - as we were enjoying ours! I had no laundry or vacuuming to do, no cooking or dishes, no running to Walmart or BJ's - nothing but walking in the woods. It was great.
I forgot to mention that Barbara Blatchley thought we should phone ahead to make a reservation at our next B&B since we only JUST found room in Painswick. It seems that September can be a bit busy but then that was Painswick and we were headed for Dursley - not the same type of town apparently. She graciously hooked us up - called herself - with the only B&B that was listed, the said "Dursley B&B" so at least we had a room waiting for us when we got there. We continued on the path and kept looking for a certain sign for "Hetty Pegler's Tump" whatever that was (an ancient long barrow apparently) but we never did find it. I was too busy looking at the map and all the close lines indicating steep hills that we had to traverse before we could have our "Indian" that evening. I also forgot to mention that we had tried to book into Hodgecombe Farm that was in this area around Hetty Pegler's Tump but that was booked solid. Oh well. Into dastardly Dursley we went.
Down down down the hill and we came into a quite normal city street. Stores! People out and about. Teens hanging around as they do everywhere. Hmmm! Could almost be home. I could live here. We went through the town and I read aloud what I had written on the margin of my map: "Dursley B&B, 7 Prospect Lane, £25/pp". Paul ducked into a pub and asked and we were directed just a short way down the street but we were having a hard time finding Prospect Lane. There were terraced houses with an auto body shop (do the Brits call them "panel beaters" as the Kiwis do?) at the end of the row, with a small lane between the auto shop and the houses. Prospect Lane. Oh boy, did it ever look like there were NO good prospects down that lane. A little grundgy looking or what. We took the right and a right again and looked at the rear of all these terraced dwellings. Number 15, number 13, number 11, number.........., here we are, Number 7.
A small greenhouse was attached by the back door and we could see someone moving inside. This has got to be the place but I don't remember seeing a B&B sign anywhere. We knocked on the door and a woman answered and I said "We're Paul and Liz - we called about a room for the night?" Oh yes, the woman said, and I'm Cecilia. Hello Cecilia. I noticed she walked somewhat with a limp as we followed her through the kitchen and into the hall. We chatted about the day and talked about where we walked that day. She said there was only one other guest - a gentleman - and he was leaving early in the morning. We passed by a bathroom and I saw the shower and mentioned how that would feel wonderful as walking could be a slightly dirty business at times. She said, "Yes, you could take a shower down here though most guests use the bathroom upstairs. Either is fine." Hmmm. We followed her up this very small staircase. I'm only 5'1" and with my backpack I could just fit. Paul was behind me and I was wondering what kinds of gymnastics he was doing just to get up the stairs.
She said, "This is your room."
To say it almost took my breath away would be an overstatement but really, I was very very surprised. There was wide plank flooring, a large, low bed, original art on the walls, a sunny window and I can't remember what else but it was LOVELY. Absolutely lovely. Directly across the narrow hallway was the bathroom with a HUGE clawfoot tub (to go with the huge towels already placed on our bed), and about a mile down, at the other end of the bathroom was the sink and toilet. I can't say exactly why this particular B&B made me so happy, but it did. Paul said "I think I'll opt out of the shower and have a bath instead." I replied that I was going to do exactly the same and true to form, he said "You first!" The water was so hot that you could have made a cup of tea with it. There was a basket with all sorts of "hotel size" shampoos and soaps and I chose a couple. Ahhhhhhhh. It was heaven. After Paul's bath we headed out to the Indian restaurant chattering all the way about our "find" in Dursley.
The Indian food wasn't quite as good as we had hoped or were used to getting but the Nan was hot, the selection was good and we ordered the whole darn menu. We had so much food (see photo) I didn't think we'd eat half of it. Instead we ate all of it. We also polished off a bottle of wine without even thinking about it - something we never do at home even though we have wine just about every night of our lives. I generally only drink a half glass and we always use the same bottle for two nights. Whoosh - that bottle of wine was history at Dursley Tandoori.
Back to Cecilia's we went, sated and happy. That bed was sooooo comfortable after the squashed night at Thorn but besides that, I think it was one of the most comfortable beds of the trip though there really wasn't a horrid one (apart from Painswick) in the bunch. But the ROOM was just so delightful - and I didn't take a single picture and I wish I had. After a marvelous night's sleep we packed up yet again and headed down to breakfast. The dining/living room was long and lovely and I DID take some photos of that, so please scroll back up this report to get to the link, then look at the photos. There were cloth napkins, wooden butter knives for each of us, and freesia in a vase. I love freesia - they're right up there with roses in my book. The breakfast was absolutely wonderful and we were all by ourselves for most of it with classical music playing in the background. Cecilia eventually came in and, while standing, joined us and we asked her about the B&B and her life in general.
She has three children (we saw them in a photo on the wall, on the beach) and lived in Dubai for most of her married life but she is Swedish and was raised there and is now divorced. (I had said to Paul when we arrived that I detected an accent and thought Danish or perhaps Swedish as the furnishings had that flavor somewhat.) Yes, much of the furnishings in the room are from Sweden, no she did not attend art school as I asked her after looking at the figure drawing on the wall and mentioned the other original artwork in the house. We discussed the world, why and how people travel, what people expect in travelling, what she would like to do, where we were going next etc etc. As she stood she held her right arm and hand up with her left hand. She explained that she was in a very serious auto accident in Dubai. It was apparent that her left side was partly out of commission and I could not imagine how she did all the sheets and towels and other cleaning required for the house, but she did. And with elegance.
We loved Cecilia! Really, if you're ever in the neighborhood...
We left that Sunday morning and headed for Tormarton, our last stop before Bath.
Jan 10th, 2007 | 09:56 AM
#70
Joined: Apr 2005
Posts: 3,087
Likes: 0
Glad you came back lizcakes!
Thought of you this morning driving through Kings Stanley just where it crosses the Cotswold Way,and the metal bridge where you crossed the railway line is the one right by my kids school playing fields!
I'm glad that Dursley wasn't too dreary for you, and that your B&B was good - I shall make note of it, and my daughter who often stays with a firend in Dursley likes the Tandoori! Small world, eh?
Do please try to finish this, I have enjoyed it, and so have many others as all the responses you have had shows.
Looking forward to the next installment!
Thought of you this morning driving through Kings Stanley just where it crosses the Cotswold Way,and the metal bridge where you crossed the railway line is the one right by my kids school playing fields!
I'm glad that Dursley wasn't too dreary for you, and that your B&B was good - I shall make note of it, and my daughter who often stays with a firend in Dursley likes the Tandoori! Small world, eh?
Do please try to finish this, I have enjoyed it, and so have many others as all the responses you have had shows.
Looking forward to the next installment!
Mar 17th, 2007 | 02:41 PM
#72
Original Poster
Joined: Jun 2005
Posts: 154
Likes: 0
Part VII: Dursley to Tormarton
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Well, for those of you on the AOL, Rest of England Board, you know that the cat’s out of the bag and we are NOT going to do Wainwright’s Coast to Coast Walk through the Lake District and Yorkshire even though I’ve already bought the books, maps and perused just about every B&B in the area. Reason? The pound is just WAY too expensive for us at this point. Sure, it may come down before October but the problem is, when one wants to use one’s frequent flyer miles, thereby getting “free” airfare, one must book WAY in advance. As it was I was lucky to get what I did – BOSTON – PARIS for September 29, returning October 19.
I’ve already bought (but have not yet received) 17 maps covering the GR routes from Fontainbleau to Dijon so we’ll be dining and sleeping in Burgundy for 3 weeks and hiking somewhere around 170-200 miles. Just look at it this way, the average tariff for a B&B on our Cotswold’s hike was £60/night which translates to $117/night. An average night at a Chambre D’Hote is €50 (some were €40 and others as high as €60) which roughly equals $65. Even if we had to pay €70/night, even that would only be $90. The food is also cheaper and need I say, MUCH BETTER, LOLOLOL!! We did have one good dinner at an Italian restaurant in Bath, two so-so Indian dinners (we love Indian food), and a couple of horrendous pub meals.
I rest my case.
Still, we do plan on doing Wainwright’s when the pound falls to a good rate for our dollar, just not this year. After all, I’d never want to waste $100 worth of OS maps and we do love the UK and its people – definitely the people! In October I’ll get a chance to use my French which thankfully increases a bit each time we travel to France. I’ll try not to gain weight this time. Gaining a pound after I hiked 105 miles was a bit of a kick in the pants. I definitely think it was all of those “Full English Breakfasts”!
Back to Dursley we go…
We left Cecilia’s on Sunday morning and all my plans of actually attending a local church were all for naught. We continued to read our bibles each evening before or after dinner and have out own devotions. It wasn’t rubbing shoulders with other Christians but it just had to do. I do miss church when we’re on vacation! We have a great church in Rehoboth. So we hiked out of town and what else? Up a long long hill, through the woods and on and on. Unfortunately, the particulars of the walk are lost due to the number of months (four) since the trip. However, looking at the photos once again…
Oh yes! This day’s walk had LOTS of “firsts” as I look at the pictures and it’s truly all flooding back to me. It was a GREAT day. We walked through a cornfield and I can’t remember if this is the first one or the second but imagine here in the U.S. the state informing a farmer that he must leave a path for walkers. Ha! It’s pretty much all private land here and woe to the person who trespasses. I loved this about the UK and loved walking right through the cornfield with the green towering over me (I’m only 5’1”). Great feeling. We pass by a cottage with the niftiest sun dial on it – can’t remember what town but the picture # is 139, Paul samples the wild plums by the side of the road, I take a picture of “Bunter’s Sandwich Company” just because I like the name, we pass by “Rose Hill School” and take a couple of pics just because it seemed so very charming and finally we get “mobbed” by a flock of sheep who seemed to think WE were going to give them something . I think there must be a good sermon in there somewhere.
We continue to wend our way towards Tormarton, passing by Old Sodbury. Funny how you picture a place in your mind: I had thought that Old Sodbury would just be so very ancient and cozy, almost bordering on that wretched word – “quaint”. Yuck. Not that I thought Old Sodbury would be yucky, it’s “quaint” that I hate. Anyway, it wasn’t. I remember traffic and trucks and general business of a modern town. Maybe it’s different, but that’s rather what I saw. Tormarton on the other hand, I had no idea what to expect – and it was lovely. Very residential and farmy and small village-ish. Which is exactly what it was.
We found our way to “Chestnut Farm” which we had booked for that Sunday night from Cecilia’s in Dursley. A good thing we called because it was indeed fully booked and once again, what a pleasant surprise! It’s run by a Roberto (Italian) and his wife Heather and one of the reasons this b&b sounded special was that wonderful evening meals were cooked by the hosts. Sounded great to me. However, after we arrived and were shown to our room, Roberto said that the pub in the village opened at 7 on Sunday nights and we could have our dinner there. We learned the next morning at breakfast that Roberto cooks every night EXCEPT Sunday! More’s the pity as the food at the pub was atrocious. Nasty. But the pub owner was jolly and of course the ale was excellent. : o ) So all was not lost. But it was hot and the surroundings were absolutely pleasant.
More about Chestnut farm (see the pics). The bed was firm, crisp and comfortable, the bathroom more than adequate and the view of the hens from our window was just what I would have wanted staying on a farm. Roberto explained to us at breakfast (GREAT breakfast by the way!), that when the Mad Cow scare was going full tilt in the area, they pretty much lost their shirts, so to speak, and packed it in as far as raising cattle and decided to put all of their energy into a really good B&B. And so it is. I highly recommend Chestnut Farm B&B in Tormarton AND for the ridiculously low tariff of £50 per night for two. A bargain if I ever heard one.
We set out Monday morning for Bath.
Part VIII: Tormarton to Bath
Monday, September 25th, 2006
Once again, we have beautiful weather if a bit foggy. Where oh where is “the land of rain”?? We only had that one partial day of rain all because of Hurricane Gordon and now the days are sunny and warm in the afternoons once the fog lifts. We actually got back to Massachusetts with tans. Well, as much of a tan as this Celtic woman ever gets anyway. Paul did much better than I in that respect.
In order to get out of Tormarton and get back on the Cotswold Way, we needed to cross the M4 – not for the faint of heart. Still, there was a way for walkers to do this, with the cars and trucks zooming by and we (obviously) got safely to the other side. If you look at the photos you will see the first sight we came upon, along the A46: The Mo-B-que! Sausage rolls at your service. Had to take a pic. We crossed this road and looked for the CW signs and came upon two gents who were installing the Cotswold Way signposts. We stopped to chat (and took a pic) with these men who were wonderful and told us exactly how to get onto the path.
We walked and walked and found ourselves on a small road. It’s kind of a foggy morning and we spy a gorgeous country estate which I think is Dyrham Park, or at least that’s what I think it is. I take a photo of the front wrought iron gate with drops of dew (and fog!) caught in the cobwebs. Glorious. We wished we could have stopped and toured the park but we know that “the walk IS the destination” and we continue on. By and by we find ourselves on a small, sunny country road with the hedgerows towering above us on either side. This a “normal” used road for the area and a couple of times we had to “hit the hedges” when a car approached. There is literally NO place to get out of the way of traffic other than to flatten ourselves into the hedgerows and pray that we’ve gotten our feet in sufficiently. With a large pack on one’s back, this is harder than it appears.
Along this road we hear what sounds like a huge truck zooming up this road towards us and we can’t imagine from which direction. We hit the hedges, throwing ourselves into them backwards with our backpacks pressing the woody perennials to smithereens, only to find that the noise wasn’t a truck at all but a low-flying military helicopter making enough noise to wake the dead. Thoroughly glad that we’re alive to tell the tale as the copter buzzes away from us, I whip out the camera and catch a couple of photos before the thing flies away. We find out later from someone that there is indeed a military air base in the area.
If you look at the next photos you’ll see that the scenery is still rolling green hills and wicket gates – what else? - and we’re nearly at the end of our walk! Bath is in the distance and we’re getting nearer by the minute. I’m on my final OS map - # 155/Bath & Bristol and I can’t believe how quickly this whole walk of 100 miles has gone! We have booked a room at “Elgin Villa” and now just have to enter the city and find it. I decide that we really should follow the marked CW path once we’re on the city streets rather than to aimlessly wander around and ask for directions. Bad idea! The official path took us on a wild goose chase up and down streets and far from the direction that we really wanted. Oh well, after a few wrong turns and some MORE horrible hills, we find our way to the front path of Elgin Villa and ring the bell.
The woman who opened the door was tall with dark hair and attractive – and with a different accent than we had been hearing. I listened to her voice as she led us up the stairs and then asked “Is that a Kiwi accent that I hear?” Indeed the owner of this B&B is from New Zealand. My mother was born and raised in Auckland and I lived there (visiting relatives and working) in 1974/75 before I came home to marry Paul. It was there that I was born again, a new person in Jesus Christ, so it was good to hear that accent again – the best of memories.
We stayed at Elgin Villa for two nights and thus ended our “walk”. On to the next one! The cost at Elgin was pretty steep by our standards - £75/night but the room was glorious, all yellow and blue with white trim, truly Provencal – loved it. I took a million pics as you can see from Yahoo. We went through our backpacks and made a pile to take to the laundromat. Anna (the owner) gave us directions and off we went. Half way there we passed by the Royal Crescent and out came the camera for the umpteenth time that day. Into the laundry, clothes into the machine and we set off to find a small store to buy some toothpaste which we had run out of. When we got back to the laundramat we spoke to the owner and asked him for a restaurant recommendationm specifically, a place where one would go for a thoroughly “decent” meal.
He said that he once took his girlfriend to “Martini’s” which was over on George Street and he liked it very much. So over we toddled to check out the menu and make a reservation for later that evening.
We did end up dining at Martini’s (see photos) and it was very good. When we returned home and saw that the price was $160+ for a “good” (not “great”) meal we decided that perhaps we should stick to the Euro countries as opposed to paying through the nose with Pounds Sterling. Hence the change in plans from doing the C2C in Yorkshire to hiking Burgundy.
Cutting this short………………..
We stayed in Bath for two days and saw the things on my list (Roman Baths, Jane Austen venues) and headed on the train for Bourton-on-the-Water (to get to Guiting Power) via Moreton-in-Marsh. We had to take a bus from Moreton to Bourton and we were told that we could then order a taxi to take us to Guiting Power. No one told us that there was exactly one taxi for this entire section of England and good luck if you could find it. We had two people call for us and I borrowed a cell phone from a kindly man and called myself – no luck. So we set out walking.
It was around 3 in the afternoon and as we headed out of Bourton and I stuck out my thumb once again. Nothing nothing nothing and it looked to be a good 7 or 8 miles to Guiting Power. We walked for about a half hour, consulted the map, took a corner and started up a hill (always a hill), with my thumb out and… whoa! Is that someone stopped ahead of us? Pulling over FOR US?? It was. A business man who felt sorry for us oldies! It took us directly to the Guiting Guest House and we thanked him profusely.
The B&B owner was not there even though we were literally within minutes of the time that we had given her (amazingly), however the door was unlocked and I went in a shouted a soft “Hello? Hello?” No one, not even one tourist. Hmmm. I went outside and told Paul so we walked around the immediate area for a bit, checking out the pub next door for a possible meal in the evening. By and by a car came into the B&Bs driveway and it was “Madame” with her son. When I told her who we were and said that we had gotten there a half hour ago etc (nicely), she bristled and said “Well, I had to get my son at school!” I answered that that was not a problem etc. She was not nice.
She curtly showed us to our room which was nice but NOT worth £77 per night! And I HATE teddy bears on the bed. Gag. They’re OK for a six year old but PLEASE. Madame ended up being a pill at breakfast so we paid up and got out of there in the morning. We had dined at a local restaurant the night before (can’t remember the name now that it’s March) instead of the pub next door. It was completely filled with horseracing prints and indeed it seemed a whole stable’s crew was dining next to us after a large win.
As it happened, we couldn’t get a taxi to Bourton-on-the-Water in the morning (surprise surprise) so Madame had her husband drive us. He was wonderful – totally different from the Lady of the House. We had to stop half way to Bourton to let a whole stable of horses and riders pass by us and it turns out that our B&B owner knew the trainer – it was Nigel Twiston-Davies. http://www.nigeltwistondavies.co.uk/ Nigel stopped to talk to our driver (they are friends) for a while so that was our touch with a ‘rock star’ of the horse world.
The rest of the trip was uneventful thank goodness except when we got to Moreton, I thought I had left our digital camera at the dreaded Guiting Guest House. Groan. I looked for it and couldn’t find it in the backpack but then Paul looked….. the man can find anything! Back, on the train, to Paddington, change trains for Heathrow and home home home we go.
This year it’s Barbados in May for a week (free flights with our FF miles) and then we’re switching to France (also free flights) instead of Wainwright’s as I’ve already written. If we do a “long” trail by staying on the paths it’ll be around 200 miles and if we cut across hill and dale it’ll be somewhere around 160 miles but anyway, we’ll hike from Fontainebleau to Dijon. Right now, the difference between the Euro and the Pound is huge but we will get back to the UK, just don’t know when.
Thanks for listening!
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Well, for those of you on the AOL, Rest of England Board, you know that the cat’s out of the bag and we are NOT going to do Wainwright’s Coast to Coast Walk through the Lake District and Yorkshire even though I’ve already bought the books, maps and perused just about every B&B in the area. Reason? The pound is just WAY too expensive for us at this point. Sure, it may come down before October but the problem is, when one wants to use one’s frequent flyer miles, thereby getting “free” airfare, one must book WAY in advance. As it was I was lucky to get what I did – BOSTON – PARIS for September 29, returning October 19.
I’ve already bought (but have not yet received) 17 maps covering the GR routes from Fontainbleau to Dijon so we’ll be dining and sleeping in Burgundy for 3 weeks and hiking somewhere around 170-200 miles. Just look at it this way, the average tariff for a B&B on our Cotswold’s hike was £60/night which translates to $117/night. An average night at a Chambre D’Hote is €50 (some were €40 and others as high as €60) which roughly equals $65. Even if we had to pay €70/night, even that would only be $90. The food is also cheaper and need I say, MUCH BETTER, LOLOLOL!! We did have one good dinner at an Italian restaurant in Bath, two so-so Indian dinners (we love Indian food), and a couple of horrendous pub meals.
I rest my case.
Still, we do plan on doing Wainwright’s when the pound falls to a good rate for our dollar, just not this year. After all, I’d never want to waste $100 worth of OS maps and we do love the UK and its people – definitely the people! In October I’ll get a chance to use my French which thankfully increases a bit each time we travel to France. I’ll try not to gain weight this time. Gaining a pound after I hiked 105 miles was a bit of a kick in the pants. I definitely think it was all of those “Full English Breakfasts”!
Back to Dursley we go…
We left Cecilia’s on Sunday morning and all my plans of actually attending a local church were all for naught. We continued to read our bibles each evening before or after dinner and have out own devotions. It wasn’t rubbing shoulders with other Christians but it just had to do. I do miss church when we’re on vacation! We have a great church in Rehoboth. So we hiked out of town and what else? Up a long long hill, through the woods and on and on. Unfortunately, the particulars of the walk are lost due to the number of months (four) since the trip. However, looking at the photos once again…
Oh yes! This day’s walk had LOTS of “firsts” as I look at the pictures and it’s truly all flooding back to me. It was a GREAT day. We walked through a cornfield and I can’t remember if this is the first one or the second but imagine here in the U.S. the state informing a farmer that he must leave a path for walkers. Ha! It’s pretty much all private land here and woe to the person who trespasses. I loved this about the UK and loved walking right through the cornfield with the green towering over me (I’m only 5’1”). Great feeling. We pass by a cottage with the niftiest sun dial on it – can’t remember what town but the picture # is 139, Paul samples the wild plums by the side of the road, I take a picture of “Bunter’s Sandwich Company” just because I like the name, we pass by “Rose Hill School” and take a couple of pics just because it seemed so very charming and finally we get “mobbed” by a flock of sheep who seemed to think WE were going to give them something . I think there must be a good sermon in there somewhere.
We continue to wend our way towards Tormarton, passing by Old Sodbury. Funny how you picture a place in your mind: I had thought that Old Sodbury would just be so very ancient and cozy, almost bordering on that wretched word – “quaint”. Yuck. Not that I thought Old Sodbury would be yucky, it’s “quaint” that I hate. Anyway, it wasn’t. I remember traffic and trucks and general business of a modern town. Maybe it’s different, but that’s rather what I saw. Tormarton on the other hand, I had no idea what to expect – and it was lovely. Very residential and farmy and small village-ish. Which is exactly what it was.
We found our way to “Chestnut Farm” which we had booked for that Sunday night from Cecilia’s in Dursley. A good thing we called because it was indeed fully booked and once again, what a pleasant surprise! It’s run by a Roberto (Italian) and his wife Heather and one of the reasons this b&b sounded special was that wonderful evening meals were cooked by the hosts. Sounded great to me. However, after we arrived and were shown to our room, Roberto said that the pub in the village opened at 7 on Sunday nights and we could have our dinner there. We learned the next morning at breakfast that Roberto cooks every night EXCEPT Sunday! More’s the pity as the food at the pub was atrocious. Nasty. But the pub owner was jolly and of course the ale was excellent. : o ) So all was not lost. But it was hot and the surroundings were absolutely pleasant.
More about Chestnut farm (see the pics). The bed was firm, crisp and comfortable, the bathroom more than adequate and the view of the hens from our window was just what I would have wanted staying on a farm. Roberto explained to us at breakfast (GREAT breakfast by the way!), that when the Mad Cow scare was going full tilt in the area, they pretty much lost their shirts, so to speak, and packed it in as far as raising cattle and decided to put all of their energy into a really good B&B. And so it is. I highly recommend Chestnut Farm B&B in Tormarton AND for the ridiculously low tariff of £50 per night for two. A bargain if I ever heard one.
We set out Monday morning for Bath.
Part VIII: Tormarton to Bath
Monday, September 25th, 2006
Once again, we have beautiful weather if a bit foggy. Where oh where is “the land of rain”?? We only had that one partial day of rain all because of Hurricane Gordon and now the days are sunny and warm in the afternoons once the fog lifts. We actually got back to Massachusetts with tans. Well, as much of a tan as this Celtic woman ever gets anyway. Paul did much better than I in that respect.
In order to get out of Tormarton and get back on the Cotswold Way, we needed to cross the M4 – not for the faint of heart. Still, there was a way for walkers to do this, with the cars and trucks zooming by and we (obviously) got safely to the other side. If you look at the photos you will see the first sight we came upon, along the A46: The Mo-B-que! Sausage rolls at your service. Had to take a pic. We crossed this road and looked for the CW signs and came upon two gents who were installing the Cotswold Way signposts. We stopped to chat (and took a pic) with these men who were wonderful and told us exactly how to get onto the path.
We walked and walked and found ourselves on a small road. It’s kind of a foggy morning and we spy a gorgeous country estate which I think is Dyrham Park, or at least that’s what I think it is. I take a photo of the front wrought iron gate with drops of dew (and fog!) caught in the cobwebs. Glorious. We wished we could have stopped and toured the park but we know that “the walk IS the destination” and we continue on. By and by we find ourselves on a small, sunny country road with the hedgerows towering above us on either side. This a “normal” used road for the area and a couple of times we had to “hit the hedges” when a car approached. There is literally NO place to get out of the way of traffic other than to flatten ourselves into the hedgerows and pray that we’ve gotten our feet in sufficiently. With a large pack on one’s back, this is harder than it appears.
Along this road we hear what sounds like a huge truck zooming up this road towards us and we can’t imagine from which direction. We hit the hedges, throwing ourselves into them backwards with our backpacks pressing the woody perennials to smithereens, only to find that the noise wasn’t a truck at all but a low-flying military helicopter making enough noise to wake the dead. Thoroughly glad that we’re alive to tell the tale as the copter buzzes away from us, I whip out the camera and catch a couple of photos before the thing flies away. We find out later from someone that there is indeed a military air base in the area.
If you look at the next photos you’ll see that the scenery is still rolling green hills and wicket gates – what else? - and we’re nearly at the end of our walk! Bath is in the distance and we’re getting nearer by the minute. I’m on my final OS map - # 155/Bath & Bristol and I can’t believe how quickly this whole walk of 100 miles has gone! We have booked a room at “Elgin Villa” and now just have to enter the city and find it. I decide that we really should follow the marked CW path once we’re on the city streets rather than to aimlessly wander around and ask for directions. Bad idea! The official path took us on a wild goose chase up and down streets and far from the direction that we really wanted. Oh well, after a few wrong turns and some MORE horrible hills, we find our way to the front path of Elgin Villa and ring the bell.
The woman who opened the door was tall with dark hair and attractive – and with a different accent than we had been hearing. I listened to her voice as she led us up the stairs and then asked “Is that a Kiwi accent that I hear?” Indeed the owner of this B&B is from New Zealand. My mother was born and raised in Auckland and I lived there (visiting relatives and working) in 1974/75 before I came home to marry Paul. It was there that I was born again, a new person in Jesus Christ, so it was good to hear that accent again – the best of memories.
We stayed at Elgin Villa for two nights and thus ended our “walk”. On to the next one! The cost at Elgin was pretty steep by our standards - £75/night but the room was glorious, all yellow and blue with white trim, truly Provencal – loved it. I took a million pics as you can see from Yahoo. We went through our backpacks and made a pile to take to the laundromat. Anna (the owner) gave us directions and off we went. Half way there we passed by the Royal Crescent and out came the camera for the umpteenth time that day. Into the laundry, clothes into the machine and we set off to find a small store to buy some toothpaste which we had run out of. When we got back to the laundramat we spoke to the owner and asked him for a restaurant recommendationm specifically, a place where one would go for a thoroughly “decent” meal.
He said that he once took his girlfriend to “Martini’s” which was over on George Street and he liked it very much. So over we toddled to check out the menu and make a reservation for later that evening.
We did end up dining at Martini’s (see photos) and it was very good. When we returned home and saw that the price was $160+ for a “good” (not “great”) meal we decided that perhaps we should stick to the Euro countries as opposed to paying through the nose with Pounds Sterling. Hence the change in plans from doing the C2C in Yorkshire to hiking Burgundy.
Cutting this short………………..
We stayed in Bath for two days and saw the things on my list (Roman Baths, Jane Austen venues) and headed on the train for Bourton-on-the-Water (to get to Guiting Power) via Moreton-in-Marsh. We had to take a bus from Moreton to Bourton and we were told that we could then order a taxi to take us to Guiting Power. No one told us that there was exactly one taxi for this entire section of England and good luck if you could find it. We had two people call for us and I borrowed a cell phone from a kindly man and called myself – no luck. So we set out walking.
It was around 3 in the afternoon and as we headed out of Bourton and I stuck out my thumb once again. Nothing nothing nothing and it looked to be a good 7 or 8 miles to Guiting Power. We walked for about a half hour, consulted the map, took a corner and started up a hill (always a hill), with my thumb out and… whoa! Is that someone stopped ahead of us? Pulling over FOR US?? It was. A business man who felt sorry for us oldies! It took us directly to the Guiting Guest House and we thanked him profusely.
The B&B owner was not there even though we were literally within minutes of the time that we had given her (amazingly), however the door was unlocked and I went in a shouted a soft “Hello? Hello?” No one, not even one tourist. Hmmm. I went outside and told Paul so we walked around the immediate area for a bit, checking out the pub next door for a possible meal in the evening. By and by a car came into the B&Bs driveway and it was “Madame” with her son. When I told her who we were and said that we had gotten there a half hour ago etc (nicely), she bristled and said “Well, I had to get my son at school!” I answered that that was not a problem etc. She was not nice.
She curtly showed us to our room which was nice but NOT worth £77 per night! And I HATE teddy bears on the bed. Gag. They’re OK for a six year old but PLEASE. Madame ended up being a pill at breakfast so we paid up and got out of there in the morning. We had dined at a local restaurant the night before (can’t remember the name now that it’s March) instead of the pub next door. It was completely filled with horseracing prints and indeed it seemed a whole stable’s crew was dining next to us after a large win.
As it happened, we couldn’t get a taxi to Bourton-on-the-Water in the morning (surprise surprise) so Madame had her husband drive us. He was wonderful – totally different from the Lady of the House. We had to stop half way to Bourton to let a whole stable of horses and riders pass by us and it turns out that our B&B owner knew the trainer – it was Nigel Twiston-Davies. http://www.nigeltwistondavies.co.uk/ Nigel stopped to talk to our driver (they are friends) for a while so that was our touch with a ‘rock star’ of the horse world.
The rest of the trip was uneventful thank goodness except when we got to Moreton, I thought I had left our digital camera at the dreaded Guiting Guest House. Groan. I looked for it and couldn’t find it in the backpack but then Paul looked….. the man can find anything! Back, on the train, to Paddington, change trains for Heathrow and home home home we go.
This year it’s Barbados in May for a week (free flights with our FF miles) and then we’re switching to France (also free flights) instead of Wainwright’s as I’ve already written. If we do a “long” trail by staying on the paths it’ll be around 200 miles and if we cut across hill and dale it’ll be somewhere around 160 miles but anyway, we’ll hike from Fontainebleau to Dijon. Right now, the difference between the Euro and the Pound is huge but we will get back to the UK, just don’t know when.
Thanks for listening!
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