In the early 1970's I spent lots of time and energy exploring the Chapel Hill area on my bicycle and even did a little racing too! I was attached enough to my bicycle that I packed it in a box and took it to Copenhagen to meet my sister, Jane, there. When I could not get the bike back together, we decided to eliminate the language problem and go to England instead. Pictures I'd seen of the Cornwall Coast intrigued me so we set off that direction. I didn't know that the Cots ('sheep pens') wolds ('hills') were between us and Cornwall. Nor did I know that this 'Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty' would call me back 44 years later.
I remember that after climbing this dreadful, long and steep hill on our bikes, we rolled into the little town of Chipping Campden.
We were immediately charmed by the warm honey colored stone that made every building.
The fields in all directions from the town were filled with sheep, herders and dogs. We even stood entranced as a herder directed his dogs by hand signals to round up the sheep.
You can imagine my excitement when the first place I booked for our trip was a sheep farm 'stay' in the Cotswolds. The farm has been in the family for 3 generations and the farmhouse was built in 1625. The town of Chipping Campden is about 5 miles away.
Our upstairs room had a lovely view across the hills.
At the top of the hill we found the Cotswold Way another of the 15 National Trails of England and Wales. It crosses the Cotswolds to Bath.
The view back toward Chipping Campden enticed me on a short amble along the sheep fields as sheep called back and forth.
On this hazy early Autumn morning it was very hard to leave the trail behind, but Terry had not been to Stratford on Avon and it wasn't too far away.
No comments:
Post a Comment