Stanton to Winchcombe

 

We passed a very uncomfortable night on a decrepit bed at the Vines. The building looks gorgeous on the outside (see yesterday's pic), but inside it's rather less so. The family has been living there since 1976, and I don't think they've troubled to do much to it since then.

Our 7.5 mile walk today felt very much like a stroll through England's green and pleasant land. As yesterday, we enjoyed sweeping views west to the Malverns and Wales beyond, and with better visibility.

Our near sight was also tested when Joff saw something move on the track, and we eventually spotted a very well camouflaged, teeny frog, about the size of my thumbnail.

In several places we saw evidence of the old ridge and furrow ploughing method, on this occasion planted with an avenue of trees.

We crossed paths with quite a few other walkers, all American. In fact, if you were to randomly throw a rock around here, you would in all likelihood hit an American. 

To be clear, I'm not advocating the throwing of rocks at people of any nationality.

The forecast was for thundery showers, and we were busy congratulating ourselves on the absence of such when we were hit with a deluge of epic proportions. We donned our waterproofs tout de suite (that's toot sweet for Simon) and trudged into Winchcombe accompanied by a side of thunder and lightning. 

Despite the water literally pouring off us, we were welcomed into the first café we stumbled across, and consoled ourselves with a fine cream tea whilst contemplating our next move.

Unfortunately tonight's B&B were not keen for arrivals much before 5 pm, and as the rain had slowed, we opted to spend the intervening period by visiting Studeley Castle, a mile outside town. 

However, having arrived, I balked at the entry price of £23 each, particularly as I was pretty tired already, and not much up for more mooch miles.

Instead we sat outside and dried off a bit in a brief sunny spell, until the next downpour. This time we were able to dive under a shelter aptly called the Ark, given the biblical quantities of rain.

By then we'd received a return call from the B&B allowing us to arrive a bit earlier, so we set off, not entirely managing to duck a third downpour. 

Our room is pretty much the opposite in every way to yesterday's, which is A Good Thing.

Dinner was at the White Hart, a nicely-executed chicken flatbread and fish pie respectively.

Em x