Village folk.
ADVENTURES #9: COTSWOLDS & OXFORDSHIRE
Lottie and I have begun the tradition of escaping to the country during the limbo between Christmas and the New Year. Our wedding anniversary is on the 28th of December, so it works out perfectly well for us to seek a little solitude and to celebrate our lives together in a cosy and peaceful setting. Last year we opted for a digital detox, and the year before, for our mini moon, we hired a little apartment in the Cotswolds. Lottie was unfortunately still recovering from her illness at the time, having only been discharged from intensive care a few weeks prior, and what with the exhaustion of the wedding, neither of us felt much like exploring, using the time to recover some energy… I think I just ate biscuits and watched Wallace & Gromit while Lottie dozed. Since then, we’ve both wanted to return to the area, and to properly explore. In another trip prior to this, we skirted the region as we visited Oxford, Bristol and Cardiff, but this time, we had our hearts set on visiting some of the picturesque villages that make the Cotswolds such a beautiful place to be. We also wanted to cut ourselves off a little again, and this time we hired a little Shepherd’s hut to serve as our base for our brief stay.
Saturday 28th December:
On the afternoon of the 28th, we (over) packed, hauled our bags down to the car, and set off westwards, driving for a few hours, stopping for some refreshments along the way - coffee for me, and chips for Lottie. We also briefly stopped at Membury Services just to satisfy Lottie’s desire to visit anywhere associated with the TV show Gavin and Stacey… this is what extended the previously mentioned trip to Oxford and Bath to Cardiff, where we made the journey to Barry Island. Diversions aside, we arrived in Bibury at around 4pm, and the sky was already getting a little bit gloomy - but the village was still alive. For quite a while before approaching our final destination, the roads were practically deserted, but as we drove down the main road into the village, we were both taken aback by how busy it was. I knew the place was a tourist destination (we were visiting for the same reason), but I never expected it to be quite so packed. Cars lined the little streets, half a dozen coaches were loading and unloading tourists, and hundreds of people were swarming about, desperate to take photos of themselves on the bridges. I suppose if a village is famous enough to feature on the passport, then you’ve got to expect traffic. After deftly avoiding running anyone over, Lottie drove us through the riverside din and up the hill that overlooked the village. As we reached the top, we turned into the driveway of the farmstead where we had booked to stay, finding our marked parking space just beyond.
After parking up, we crossed the fields and found our appointed shepherds hut, situated at the far end of the farmland, overlooking the River Coln, which could be seen in the distance through the trees that lined the edge of the field. Once we had unlocked the cabin and investigated the amenities (finding the firewood, eating the complementary Lindt chocolates, and rating the comfort of the mattress), we hauled our belongings out from the car and stowed them inside before heading out for a look around. The last light of day was rapidly fading by then, but we thought we should explore while we had the time. As we walked back into the village proper, we found it a much quieter place. There were still lots of people milling about, but the vast majority had disappeared, which might have had something to do with the local shop shutting just as we approached. After a brief look around, we headed back to the hut and to get ourselves ready for the meal we had booked in celebration of our anniversary, deciding to get up early the next morning to properly explore the village.
After getting back, we made ourselves a hot drink, and as Lottie got ready, I got a quick fire on the go to take the edge off - it was very chilly. After a little rest and getting ready, we hurried across the field and climbed into the car to drive to another village called Coln St Aldwyns, which was about only about five minutes away. Upon arriving, we spotted the illuminated sign for The New Inn, and after parking up and switching out of our wellies and into some slightly nicer shoes, we left the cold winter air and entered the cosy and warm pub. There is nothing quite like a proper country pub in the winter, and this one was just about as perfect as it could be. Picturesque, warm, small, cosy, and staffed with lovely people. Upon entering, we were greeted and taken to our little table by the fire (which was refreshed for us as we sat). We had booked quite early, so it was pretty empty to begin with, but as our food arrived, so did the rest of the patrons, and the atmosphere was hearty. All of this would have made for a lovely time, but to top it off, the food was incredible, and the beer was delicious. If you ever find yourself in the area, I recommend a visit.
Full and satisfied, we left the pub a few hours later with smiles on our faces, but we couldn’t return to the hut immediately as we were short on supplies. Our host had provided firewood, but it was a little damp, and we sorely needed kindling (as well as some bits and bobs for breakfast the next morning). We made then for the nearest Tesco, and after a quick nip around, we hurried back to Bibury, eager to get the fire going in the hut. A spot of reading followed then, along with a few more hot drinks as we listened to music and allowed ourselves to revel in the quiet.
Sunday 29th December:
We woke early the next morning and opened the doors to find the fields and the village beyond shrouded in fog. This pleased me greatly, as I love a foggy day - it makes everything look so ethereal. With the fog came a very cold day however, so I began by getting the fire going and boiling some water on the hob, and as they were going, I braved the bathroom. It was freezing, but as the boiler kicked in, steam billowed out from the shower, and I was soothed by the heat. The room was nice and toasty as I emerged, and after getting a bit of fruit loaf in the toaster, I made myself a coffee and stood at the threshold, breathing in the fresh air as the grey sky brightened.
A little later, Lottie rose, and after getting ourselves wrapped, we crossed the field again and jumped in the car, driving down into the village for a proper explore. The streets were far quieter than the previous day, and we felt as though we had the place to ourselves initially. As we walked, we took in the sights, explored the local church, browsed the shop, walked along the river, and generally soaked in the atmosphere.
After circling the village, we ended up back at the car, and from there we made off for our next destination, the town of Burford. Again, I didn’t really know what to expect, other than another picturesque place, and what greeted us as we drove down the high street was exactly that. Burford is far bigger than Bibury, with dozens of shops lining its main road. What struck us most however was that barely any (save perhaps for the Co-Op) of the shops were recognisable, most of them being independent. Luck was on our side as we drove down the hill, as we found a parking space right by the shops. We decided to make our way up one side and down the other, and as we began our explorations, we quickly found ourselves gazing through the window of a very quaint traditional sweet shop. As I’ve grown older, my sweet tooth has become slightly more savoury, but I couldn’t resist picking up some chocolate covered coffee beans and some dark chocolate drops. Lottie got herself some chocolate honeycomb, and these little bags fuelled us as we continued to browse. One shop in particular that caught us off guard was the Oxford Shirt Company, which on the outside appeared to be quite humble, revealed itself as a sort of warren for expensive clothing, reaching almost endlessly back with dozens of rooms. Their website describes their store thusly: “To walk into our flagship store in Burford is to enter a world of glorious abundance. An Aladdin’s Cave.” I’d say even that is a slight understatement, and as we walked around it, we very much enjoyed the wonder of another room being revealed - so much so that Lottie even told one of the workers there that it was the biggest shop we had ever been to… I reminded her a little later that although it was large, it was still smaller than our local supermarket - not to take away from the wonder though…
After that delight, and almost buying some new shoes myself, we continued up the hill, visiting several more shops before our stomachs got the better of us. A few places to eat caught our eye, but we settled on a little place called Davenford, which suited us down to the ground, with a little spot next to the fire. Lottie had a poached egg with avocado, and I had a full English. The latter was smaller than I had expected, but far more delicious! Fortified after lunch, we continued our exploration, snooping through bookshops, homeware stores, an abandoned Christmas market, and a few other odd places. An hour or so later we found ourselves back at the car, and on our way to the next spot, which was an especially nice garden centre that Lottie had heard about called the Burford Garden Company. Posh name for a posh place. We were rather excited by the bookshop more than anything, and quite a place it was. We often like to find the most expensive items we can, just to gorp at them, and the winner of that prize was a book for £4500. We steered clear of that for fear of financially ruining ourselves by damaging it, and after looking through some of the more reasonably priced tomes and trying some of the nice pens they had for sale, we went into the garden centre proper. You could tell it was posh by the live pianist, but also because the most disgusting pair of shoes I have ever seen (think slippers with a grey wig attached) were close to £500. As nice as it was there, we felt our bank cards writhing in pain just from browsing. After getting our garden centre fix, we returned to the car again and made off.
Next on the list of places to visit was Stow-on-the-Wold, perhaps most famous for the Tolkien Door, which is situated at the back of St. Edward's Church. It’s just a rumour, but apparently it was the inspiration for the Doors of Durin, which serve as the secret entrance to Khazad-dûm in the Lord of the Rings. This was my version of visiting a Gavin and Stacey service station. The site is incredibly beautiful, and whether or not the link to Tolkien is true, it is very much reminiscent of the illustration and could easily have been a source of inspiration for the author. Anyway, after a close look and a few photographs, we departed to allow room for the next set of visitors, and we began our explorations of the town, which is similar to Burford in terms of a shopping experience (although an entirely different layout). After a bit of browsing, we gravitated to a pub called the Porch House, which, at least according to the blue plaque, is claimed to be the oldest pub in England, dating to the 10th century. Great pub, regardless of the age. As with the New Inn which we visited on our first night, the Porch House immediately impressed me with its charming interior and cosy feel. It was bustling as we entered, but as luck would have it, a trio of patrons were vacating their table just as we entered, and after a jovial exchange with them, we secured our seat (just in time, as scores of people came looking for a seat just after us). After getting a pint and a hot chocolate ordered, we settled in, soaking up the atmosphere, recovering from our adventures, and enjoying a few games of cards.
After a second round, and a few packets of crisps, we headed out into the cold again and made the drive back to our temporary home, lighting the fire, making some pasta for dinner, and enjoying a game of Bananagrams as well as a spot of reading. After that, I sat outside for a while, getting the fire pit on the go as Lottie relaxed inside. I’ll take any opportunity to start a fire. I was a little reserved with this however due to the rather limited supply of firewood, wanting to save some for the morning. After it had turned to embers, I made my way inside and settled down for a bit more reading before bed.
Monday 30th December:
As we drifted off the night before, the log burner was merely glowing embers, but bloody hell it was hot, so much so that we had to sleep with the windows wide open, which is quite something in the depths of winter. Anyway, we woke up freezing our tits off, as you can imagine, so after lighting another fire, I got into the shower immediately in order to warm up. After breakfast, we packed our stuff, cleaned up, and made for the car, bidding our little hut farewell before setting off for our first destination of the day, that being the village of Bourton-on-the-Water.
Bourton is similar to the others we had visited so far, but sort of in between Bibury and the other two. Picturesque with lots of shops, but not quite as busy as Burford and Stow. Our main reason for visiting was the model village, it’s a typical British attraction. Quaint, slightly out of touch, and run down, but full of charm. The models are rather impressive, solidly built, representing the village itself in delightful miniature detail. After lots of photos, and picking up a little tin house from the gift shop, we made a circuit of the village itself, popping into yet another sweetshop, and engaging in a bit more window-shopping. After our brief explore, we grabbed a snack from the Cornish Bakery (a fact that one of the tourists was very angry about - apparently he didn’t like the idea of it existing outside of Cornwall). Anyway, after a sausage roll for me and an almond croissant for Lottie, we felt ready to go, and made our way to Oxford.
As we neared the city, we realised that driving into it was either going to take hours or cost a fortune, so we diverted to the park and ride and caught a bus from there (which was far more convenient and much cheaper than navigating emission zones and car park fees). The ride did take a bit of a while due to roadworks, but we disembarked with plenty of time to explore. We did initially decide to sight see first, but free Whittard samples drew us in, and we visited a few shops thereafter (I got myself a new backpack and Lottie got some new shoes) before looking around some of the campuses, as well as the Radcliffe Camera and the University Church of St Mary the Virgin. I had wanted to tick off another Tolkien hotspot while there, wanting to visit the Eagle and Child, the pub within which the Inklings writers’ group (which included J. R. R. Tolkien and C. S. Lewis) were said to have frequented. Unfortunately it was closed and covered in scaffolding… Anyway, from there to another Tolkien haunt, we visited Blackwell’s and marvelled at the vast underground store of books housed there. After a long browse, we roamed about the local area a little more before ending up in Wagamama for dinner - we ended up in one of these on our first date almost a decade ago, which is appropriate for an anniversary break. Neither of us liked it then (probably too nervous), but we can’t get enough of the salty food there now! More salt! More soy!
After finishing our meals, we headed out into the cold streets and walked off our food, getting another freebie hot chocolate at Whittard again on the way back to the bus stop. Our park and ride was there waiting for us, and before we knew it, we were already back at the car park and ready to begin our drive home. We stopped off briefly on the way to grab a coffee and a tea, and other than being stopped by traffic enforcement vehicles on the way for a few minutes, we were back home in no time.
Another festive season gone in a flash - how time flies. I’ve immensely enjoyed the cosiness of winter this year, but that is likely because I’ve only had to scrape ice off my car a handful of times. Post New Year, the cold becomes slightly wearing, so here’s to some warmer adventures in the future.
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