Day 5 - Cotswolds

Day 5 – The Cotswolds

I begin typing this entry from day 7, on the train from Oxford to Windsor.  We, and a lovely New Zealander couple, accidentally seated ourselves in the First Class section.  Given that it is mostly empty aside from us, that our tickets are “self-seating” (albeit, in standard class) I insisted we stay until someone comes and kicks us out.  We’ve past the first stop, and so far so good.

Day 5 began from the train ride from Bath to Glouster.  Neither Matthew nor I have anything particularly nice to say about Glouster, especially compared to the other amazing places we’ve visited.  There, Matthew rented a car for us, and the terror began.  Driving here is a little crazy, even aside from the cars and streets being mirrored.  People drive very quickly along narrow, winding roads.  We now understand, and fully appreciate the vehicles in Barnes parking partially along the sidewalk; there is no room to drive otherwise.  Here and into the Cotswolds, parked cars take up from half the lane to the ENTIRE lane, leaving very little room to pass on the two way street. Why don't they park on the sidewalk, like civilized people?

 

The Cotswolds themselves are composed of rolling hills and farmer’s fields.  It is defintitely the picturesque countryside we often associate with England outside of the hustle and bustle city life.  I was also impressed with the amount of wildlife here.  Back in Barnes, I was thrilled to see two foxes on our way home on Day 1.  I apologize if I neglected to put that in.  Here, I’ve seen hawks, wild pheasants (or partridges, not sure), ducks, swans, rabbits, and signs for foxes and deer.  For domesticated animals, there are many herds of sheep, cattle and horses along the hill slopes.  There are black and white birds that I think are magpies in every city so far.  They are quite beautiful.

After horrific navigating, (we did much better the next day when I was in charge of the directions), we finally made it to Dumbleton.  We had to turn around and reorient ourselves a few times first, but we did eventually arrive safely. We were staying at the Dumbleton Hall Hotel, which Matthew persuaded me with the text message a few weeks ago, “SWEET JESUS, HARRINGTON WE’RE STAYING AT THE DUMBLETON HALL HOTEL AND NEVER LEAVING,”. 

-We’ve past the second train stop so far, and still haven’t been kicked out of our seats. -

Dumbleton Hall Hotel was indeed absolutely splendid.  We were every bit impressed as we expected to be.  The building is large, with magnificent interior as well as exterior.  It’s hard to believe that we payed LESS to stay here than we did for our previous B&B stays.

                                   

We decided to walk around the Hall grounds, following a note in our room saying that we could ask for bread at reception to feed to the ducks and black swans in the pond.  I was very excited about this.  Before anyone interrupts, yes, feeding birds bread is absolutely terrible for them, and yes the people at the Wildlife Rescue Association would be very cross with me, but I selfishly wanted to feed the birds, okay?  Matthew was surprised by the four slices of bread we were given, and kept pestering me to let him eat some of it.  Stay classy.  I definitely did not allow this, and kept it all for the birds.  The game birds that hopped around the grounds were not particularly friendly, and didn’t let us get close enough to feed them.  We got to the other side of the pond, where Matthew refused to hop the fence, even though that section of the pond is completely accessible to us from the other side.  I stepped over the 2.5 foot fence, and started my encounter with the black swans while waiting for Matthew to walk all the way around to join me.

I sometimes wonder if swans know they are beautiful.

What I did discover, is that swans are as aggressive as geese, but much, much bigger.

 

Once the bread was depleted, we decided to drive over to Pershore, another small town nearby.  It wasn’t quite as small as we expected, and driving there was equally invigorating.  We visited their local abbey, and I was surprised to see that they were offering tea to visitors, continuing the tradition hospitality shown by monks at the abbey centuries ago.  To show my gratitude, I purchased a couple cards from their gift shop, and the woman there was very friendly.  Matthew asked about the national speed limit.  The woman apologized for it being a mere 70 miles per hour (~113km/hr) along the winding narrow roads.  Matthew was mortified.

Thai Restaurant

We patronized a Thai place for dinner.  Once again I am surprised by the quantity of Asian food varieties.  There are nowhere near as many as Vancouver, but I expected there would be few to none.  We decided it would be a good idea to put more money in the meter, only for Matthew to discover parking became free after 6:00pm, and then become lost on his way back to the restaurant.  The Thai place was pretty good value, beautiful interior design, and very tasty food, but the service was awful.  We waited about 20 minutes after asking for the bill before getting up and paying at the front, (the couple behind us had their bill delivered to them,).

Naturally, we got a little lost on our way back to Dumbleton, but we managed, and that concludes Day 5.

I’m finishing the typing of this blog post from the train from Windsor back into London/Barnes.  (Day 8) The hostess we had in Windsor was very lovely, but I really don’t want to see an English Breakfast ever again.  I miss how at home, we cook scrambled eggs in a frying pan, not in the microwave…  I find myself longing for Stella’s French toast, which Matthew and I will surely enjoy tomorrow back at the B&B in Barnes.

Things Matthew and I should feel guilty about, brought to you by the Lizard of Guilt, to be read in the voice of a disapproving grandmother:

“You’re parents are dying of loneliness”
“Don’t feed the swans bread, you should know better!”
“You’re using money that should go towards school!”
“You’re going to get fat!”

“Stop making fun of the country that’s hosting you!”

“You’re a terrible girlfriend!”

“You dress too trashy for the Queen’s residence!  She’s crying out of shame!”  (This one is not about us).

“Don’t pour your own juice!”

“You’ve put other people in danger by driving!”
“You’ve broken so many social conventions that you weren’t aware of!”
“Don’t bring scissors to the Queen’s residence!  What were you thinking?”

“Zoiberg is distasteful, why are you mimicking him everywhere?”

“You J-walk all the time!  You’re corrupting Matthew!”

“Wandsworth isn’t that funny! Stop saying it in that voice!”  Oh, but it is.

“You secretly hate the swans and want to make them sick!  You’re just jealous that they’re prettier than you!”

"Don't make fun of the place names, people live there!"

Here’s my new section that will be featured at the end of every blog post from now on.
You know you’re in England when: