The Cotswolds. This beautiful part of central England is the stuff of folk
tales, with its picturesque villages dotting the countryside.
The old shops and
cottages, built from honey-colored Cotswold stone create a storybook setting
and the village names only add to the charm: Moreton-in-Marsh, Bourton-On-The-Water,
Milton-Under-Wychwood, Upper Swell, Lower Swell.
Me in front of our 17th century hotel, The Kings Arms |
And because its history is so well-preserved
(70% of all new construction must use Cotswold stone), big-name chain hotels are frowned
upon. So we stayed in a 500-year old coach inn at the highest point of the
Cotswolds, the historic wool town of Stow-on-the-Wold.
Day 1: The town of Stow-on-the-Wold dates back to the 12th century but its
settlement was mentioned in the Domesday Book, in 1068. During the 18th
century the wool trade here had become so lucrative, more than 20,000 sheep could be
sold in one day.
We arrived mid-day with enough time
before check-in for lunch and a stroll around town. Its central market place has
long since given way to parking spots but the cozy feel still lingers, and a market springs up once a month
with local vendors hawking their wares.
The small but lovely St. Edwards church has a set
of doors wedged between two thick trees like something out of Middle Earth. And on the north end of the village is an old set of stocks used long
ago to house “villains and knaves and drunks and hooligans and foreign folk of
unsavory appearance.” I ruled myself out, thank you very much.
Decisions, decisions. |
After lunch we made a quick walk down to the neighboring village of Maugersbury,
population 149. I think there were more apple trees than people.
Back in Stow, we checked into the King’s Arms Inn, then spent
the rest of the day antiquing, window shopping and walking hither and yon. All told: an easy 5 miles.
Day 2: After a full English breakfast at the inn (egg, sausage,
back bacon, mushrooms, baked beans, grilled tomato, black pudding and fried
bread), we headed out early for a hike through some of the muddiest trails we
had been on. We made it down to Upper Slaughter then on to Bourton-on-the-Water,
a lovely town with the sweetest little bridges I’d ever seen.
Burford Village |
I publically confess
here and now that after walking 6 miles, we took a bus back to Stow, hopped in our car
and drove to the villages of Burford then Northleach, where a parish volunteer strongly
suggested we drive another mile to see the church at Hampnett with its
surprising interior. How could we
resist?
By the time we returned to Stow, we were ready for dinner and a pint.
Or at least half a pint.
Day 3: It was time to stop lolly-gagging and take a proper hike.
The entire English countryside is criss-crossed with an intricate network of
footpaths. On top of these are about a dozen major trail ways, one of which is
the 100-mile long Cotswold Way.
Up to this point we’d hiked the minor footpaths
but now it was time to go big. We got on the Cotswold Way in the
village of Broadway, and for the next 7 hours hiked an up-and-down curvy loop
through the villages of Stanton, Stanway, and Snowshill then back up to Broadway.
Fourteen miles of
scenic beauty that included climbing the equivalent to 98 flights of stairs. For
me, a personal best and well worth every step.
Beautiful cottage and roses in Stanton. This village was a sugar cookie of sweetness . |
On the last leg of our hike, headed back to Broadway. Until next time . . . |
Back at the inn I had a good long soak in the tub followed by a broken sleep, thanks to several loud drunks and hooligans whooping it up at 3:00 a.m. in the court yard. Some things never change, el oh el. Time for a new set of stocks, perhaps?
For many, many more pictures of our Cotswold holiday, please click right here.
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Not sure why, but there was a kangaroo on top of this thatched roof. A kangaroof?