Middle (Aged) England

Due to distancing rules the Travelodge buffet breakfast has been remodelled as a takeaway box option. We rejected this as the joy of buffet breakfasts is shovelling as many hash browns down the gullet as possible. Overall we support the curtailing of buffets during the pandemic as people can get very excitable with the bean scoop, and forget to maintain their two metres.

Locations in the Cotswolds are not allowed to exist without a place name that uses the following format: ‘xxx-in-the-xxx’ or ‘xxx-on-the-xxx.’ We headed to Bourton-on-the-Water to begin a Cotswolds hike. On the way, whilst leaving Cheltenham, our jaws collectively dropped on seeing the grandeur of Cheltenham College. I think the word obscene was used (in a good way).

The hike was delightful, and the weather behaved. We meandered through fields, slurry and lanes to Stow-on-the-Wold, which would be an ancient relic if all spare space in the town centre hadn’t been given over to car parking. We shared remarks about dry stone walls and hand creams, and discussed roads and routes from A to B. We decided we are definitely entering middle age, if we haven’t already. After Stow-on-the-Wold Han dug out her quick-boil stove and some noodles fuelled us for the return to Bourton-on-the-Water.

We couldn’t believe the numbers of people teeming and milling where we’d started, as it was fairly quiet in the morning. Plans to read quietly on the grass next to this babbling stream were thwarted and we thought best to vacate the area and seek a quiet country pub, which we did for a refreshing pint, bag of crisps and pore over potential walks for tomorrow.