This house was the most cozy, especially after having to sleep on the floor the previous night. The rain greeted us this morning. I was delighted to use my umbrella.
I saw that Halfway House Cafe was near our morning route, and the only one open early. We were the only customers when we arrived. It had a classic diner feel, just the UK version. Our waitress (I’ll call her Lou) carried on a conversation while she made our breakfast. She is very well-travelled for a cafe owner, and admitted they take for granted the nearby airports. One summer she had taken a day trip to Mallorca, Spain. She asked if we’re here on holiday. Mom forgot that’s their word for vacation, because she said no.
I actually love beans, salsa, and eggs for brekkie on a normal day. This egg, though, was cooked to perfection. I tried the black pudding; it’s no sticky toffee.
As we finished our meal, her usual customers and deliveries were beginning to arrive. I loved hearing the catching up after the weekend. My favorite conversation was when a businessman asked, “Could you pop the egg for me, please?”
She replied, “So you’re not wearing it.”
Mom asked if she could buy the wooden board, on which the complimentary toast was served. Lou immediately said, “Ya can have it, I’ve got loads. Let me clean it for ya.” Continuing the tradition, I grabbed my pen and paper to draw the cafe for her.
The skies cleared as we neared the Cotswold District. I saw the sign that said Worcestershire, and told dad to not take the turn to Bourton-on-the-water yet. It ended up just being that shire, not actually Worcester, but we were glad to take the slower back roads.
We only drove through Upper Slaughter because there was no place to park.
My phone has still been quite slow in service, so I went into the very un-charming gas station to find a map. The lady looked at me like I was medieval and told me that there’s WiFi in the supermarket.
Bourton-on-the-water was beautiful, but oh the humans. I’m a tourist, yet I think that I’m the only person who should be here. We parked and walked around for a half hour. I planned out the remainder of our day on Dad’s GPS, while standing on the crowded street.
I popped into The Cotswold Candle Company and got a few gifts. I asked the shop owner if he sold maps. He said the Post Office does. But just then Dad texted that they were in the car. It took me a bit to find the parking spot
We made our way to Stow-on-the-Wold for afternoon tea. Ella’s pictures and stories of Lucy’s were convincing. The girl told us that she doesn’t know how long the wait will be, but we’re welcome to sit outside and she’ll get us.
I took the opportunity to go to St. Edward’s Church (dated from the 11th or 12th century) down the alley to the right. I wandered inside, where people reverently sat on the pews and walked around. I felt guilty for my loud camera shutter, but there were moments of perfect light and the guilt didn’t last.
Outside the other door, two trees grew right by the walls. Allegedly said to have inspired Tolkien’s Doors of Durin. As I snapped a photo, a lady was walking towards the trees, saw me and asked if I wanted my picture taken. She couldn’t figure out how to use my camera and I ended up giving her my phone. I think she was French, but I didn’t want to risk a broken “merci.”
As soon as she finished, dad texted that the tea was here.
The narrow stairs to the attic creaked as I walked on them. The floor was uneven and the ceiling made of plaster. Soon our scones and sandwiches arrived.
I loaded the last half of my scone with the mouthwatering clotted cream. Where have I been all my life, it’s the best! We got Earl grey tea and their classic vanilla. Both were quite delicious.
A few moments made us question sharing the table with men, but they have to learn culture somewhere.
I took my people to the Tolkien trees, and then strolled on down the road.
The antique shop was too posh for me, so I only dreamt. I mean, this art needs someone to lovingly stare at it, right?
It makes me sad for the people who live here, (I suppose if you’re wealthy enough to live here you could choose a quieter place) all of the tourists that come. I was only in Bibury for 10 minutes and was fine with leaving. I love cities, the bustle seems fitting. In a small village, the charm is almost lost after there are sixteen people in puffer coats posing in front of someone’s kitchen window. Okay, rant over. I’m overly grateful that I saw these places in person, but in more love with the quiet towns off the path.
The town that one of my most loved Odyssey characters was named after was so charming.
Speaking of the quiet towns, as we drove into Upavon, we were again in awe. Dad pulled over to let Mom and I gad about the streets.
As soon as we thought it couldn’t get better, we rounded the corner to The Ship. I desperately wanted to partake of a meal inside, beside a candlelit table, but only the bar was open.
The owner told us about a good place down the road, but our maps didn’t load. We saw Stonehenge Inn and ate there. The lasagne was delicious, but I’ll say the vibes were more that of Applebees.
Grant wanted to see when Stonehenge’s parking lot opened, so after sunset we drove there. We drove to our lovely Airbnb across from a church. As we walked inside to our rooms, the organ played.
We passed The Pembroke Arms on our way to the house. Since I haven’t filled my prescription for sticky toffee pudding today, we walked over. I believe it was the best yet!
Good day🫶🏽
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