Bourton On Water

Our last day in Cotswold turned out to be the best.  We didn't hike, which ended up freeing up time to do four really great things, and one kind of great.

After breakfast and bidding farewell to the Morrisseysm to Dairy Yard Cottage, and to the dogs, we headed to Bourton on Water.  The village is one of the most popular in Cotswold, and can get quite crowded with bus people eager to ravage the shops and cafes of a truly quaint Cotswoldian village.

We figured going after breakfast on a Monday morning was the smart thing to do, and as it turns out, we were right!  We were able to park right across from the River Windrush.  

(Editor: "Windrush" would be a great name for a 70's soft rock cover band.  Writer: "Tonight at the Birchmere, America's Legendary Music Hall: Windrush, playing the best Yacht Rock songs!  Editor: You know, we are kind of funny together.  Writer: Yeah, when you're not be a supercilious. . .oh never mind.)

We did a Bourton on Water what I thought we would actually do a lot more of in Cotswold.  That is, wander around the town, taking pictures, walking into cute shops and pubs.  We really didn't do as much of that as I expected, but Bourton On Water is quite picturesque.  Between the river, the village, the ducks, the weeping willows hanging over the river, the War Memorial, the church, the pubs and cafes, it's quite the place.  The village also might have the highest number of ice cream shoppes per capita in the world, and there are quite a few competitors for that title!

Looking back on driving through various villages while in Cotswold, I do regret not pulling over sometimes for photos of beautiful houses, ponds, views, villages and more.  Now, to be fair to me, a bunch of places where I wish I had taken photos there were not suitable places to pull over.  But there certainly were some.  

Cotswold, in the words of the great Mark Knopfler song, "is like a storybook story."

We popped into a Christmas shoppe, and purchased a very cool, well, Christmas-y thingie.  The shopkeeper could not have been nicer, as we chatted a while after checking out.  I can't think of a conversation as lengthy or friendly as that one. By the way, it's not always the shopkeeper's fault.  A lot of times I'm paying and going off to the next thing.  This was a friendly, lengthy, conversation.  It doesn't happen often enough.

Anyhow, we wandered up and down the streets of Bourton on Water, along the river and over the many old pedestrian bridges.  Quite a beautiful village, and we went at the right time on the right day.

Bourton on Water's 

War Memorial.

Weeping willow on the riverbank.

You might think it is from a 

Hallmark movie, but it's real.

If it's Tudor, I'm taking a picture!

Beautiful house.

Lovely garden.

Whimsical sign.

I wanted to try a pastry from here,

but I wasn't hungry.  Next time.

A Quiet, And Yet Spectacular, Night

So Carol and I walked up to the pub a couple minutes before 6pm, which is when the guitar player/singer was supposed to start.  It was Sunday evening, so the Half Way pub had stopped serving food at 3pm.  

I was worried the place would be packed because live music, popular pub, rain in the forecast, but that wasn't the case.  Oh, the singer drew a nice crowd group of people, and more showed after we got there.  She was set up outside, which gave us the chance to both listen to her whilst enjoying beautiful views, and to watch the storm clouds roll in.

After getting our drinks from inside, by chance I came upon Sally-Anne and Mick Morrissey.  We had a brief chat, and I mentioned that, whilst they probably had a bunch of friends there at the pub, they were certainly welcome to join us for a drink.

Well after a bit they wandered over, sat down, and then the four of us hit it off like long-time friends.  It really turned into a wonderful evening, listening to the music and chatting with the Morrisseys.

The music and the others all moved inside the pub as the rain came closer.  The four of us finally decided it was time to move inside as well, where we kept up the conversations.  Inside, Sally-Anne and Carol sat down at a table, whilst Mick and I stood by the bar.  

It seems like we talked for hours on end, but I think it was only two. 

At one point I leaned over to the table and tell Sally-Anne not to worry, I wasn't going to write in my VRBO review that we went drinking in the pub together, which she appreciated, as neither of us wanted future renters to expect a similar evening!  I kept my word -- no mention of it in the VRBO review, so only my loyal readers who rent the DYC in Kineton would know.

We walked back down the hill and said fond goodnights.  Carol then heated up the food we bought earlier in the day at the Diddly Squat Farm Shop, and it proved to be mighty tasty, especially paired with Clarkson's Hawkstone Lager (the barley for the beer is grown on Clarkson's Farm).

It was not the fanciest meal, nor the most spectacular evening, but it's the kind of night (and meal) that you yearn for on a trip.  The evening was huge fun.

Diddly Squat

After so-British lunch of roast beef and yorkshire pudding at the King's Head Pub, we headed over to the Diddly Squat Farm Shop to see what there is to see.  So, between James Bond and Jeremy Clarkson, we were jumping feet first into British media.  The only thing missing is Peaky Blinders.

It was a pleasant drive (primarily because we survived the back roads) until we hit the traffic for the Farm Shop.  Given that it was a Sunday afternoon, the traffic wasn't so bad.  We parked relatively easily.

The line to get into the farm shop was pretty long.  I figured we would get in line, see how it's moving, and bail if it was a terribly long wait.  The line was almost all in the shade, and moved even faster than we could have hoped for.  

There were no signs of any of the show members, but I didn't expect them to be there on a random Sunday afternoon in June.  We both thought it would be neat, since we were so close, to go to the Farm Shop.  

And it was -- since we had cancelled our dinner plans, Carol grabbed two individual lamb pies servings and two individual pork pie servings.  I picked up two bottles of Hawkstone Lagers to drink later.  At the register I did an impulse purchase of a brownie to share after dinner.  The lamb and pork is raised either on the farm or within 16 miles of it.

All of the food turned out to be quite good -- it was an enjoyable dinner after Carol heated it all up in the oven.

After the Farm Shop, we went around back to the Big View Cafe.  Clarkson had opened a restaurant but was forced to close it by NIMBYs on the council.  While the restaurant has closed, he's somehow finagled a way to open the Cafe.  Carol got an ice cream and I got a Hawkstone Lager.   

We hung out, Carol enjoying her ice cream and me enjoying my beer, and both of us enjoying the (hazy) Big View.  We chatted a bit with our picnic table mate, a young man who felt twelve pounds was a bit steep for the well-regarded hamburger.  We ended sitting with him because the place was so packed there wasn't an open table.

After our brush with Clarkson's Diddly Squat Farm Shop, we headed back to the DYC to relax.  We ended up playing the longest game of fetch ever with a dog (our dogs don't fetch, sigh) while relaxing in the yard.

The entry sign.

The field stone.

The line to get in Diddly Squat Farm Shop.

Rounding the corner, about to get in.

Note the "Cow Juice" machine.

Part of the Big View.  Haze not typical.

The small building to the right is the

Farm Shop, while the longer building

to the left is the Big View Cafe.

When Brits Say AONB, They MEAN AONB!

Cotswold is listed as an AONB, which means Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.  And so it is.  The AONB designation makes it harder for Jeremy Clarkson to do everything he wants, but such is life.  The Cotswold region is like if you took the still quaint parts of New England and put it in a US National Park, with all the restrictions to change therein.  

The positive side is that the AONB limit what can be done in areas of, well, outstanding natural beauty.  These areas don't make the cut as National Parks, but allows for the conservation and enhancement of the area.  The Cotswold region is the largest of the 46 AONBs in the United Kingdom, but only England, Wales, and Northern Ireland.  I'm not sure why there are no AONBs in Scotland, although it is possible the entirety of Scotland would classified as AONB.

Since you are no doubt wondering, Cotswold AONB is 787 square miles.  It is not clear if having dangerous roads of death criss-crossing a region is required for it to be an AONB, but it's possible.

Speaking of "wondering," I suppose I need to clarify for most loyal readers exactly who Jeremy Clarkson is, and why he came up in reference to Cotswold.  Neither Carol nor I had heard of him until Susan Eastoe (Leeds-AU programme, currently residing in the Cotswold) recommended we watch "Clarkson's Farm" because it based in Cotswold -- Chadlington, Chipping Norton specifically.

(Admit it, the "neither/nor" construct is superior to the "either/or" construct.)

Now I'm wandering off in a different direction, but as Don Minnis would say, "it begs the question" -- why do English villages have both their own name and the name of the larger town/city nearby?   Like it is in both Chadlington and Chipping Norton?  Or Kineton is both Kineton AND Cheltenham.

The town of Cheltenham is 39 miles from Kineton!  Q:How is Kineton part of Cheltenham?  A: It's not.  That's like saying Alexandria, VA is part of Manassas, VA, because it is 39.1 miles away.

Anyhow, back to Jeremy Clarkson.  He's a controversial British TV personality who people appear to either love or hate.  He's hosted many successful shows, including the British version of "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire," "The Grand Tour," and "Top Gear." 

He bought a farm in Chadlington, and had someone running it.  The fellow retired, and Clarkson, seeing another money-making opportunity for a TV show.  It's great reality TV -- not only is he funny and great on camera, but the regulars on the show are damn funny locals.  Kaleb Cooper first appeared as a 21 year old (will be 23 in a few days), and is really good at telling Jeremy off as new farmer Jeremy Clarkson (age 63, so age 61 when he started farming).  It's on Amazon Prime, if you are looking for a fun, breezy show.

Susan's point in suggesting we watch it was to get better acquainted with Cotswold (some of the B-roll is just breathtaking, and the wildlife is quite compelling).  She isn't a fan of the man personally (I feel like I owe her that acknowledgment) but made the case that the show also does a great job of pointing out challenges facing farmers.

Anyhow, we binge watched (that means more than one episode a week for us) Clarkson's Farm and that's where we first heard the term AONB.

(Editor: You spent eleven paragraphs on THIS topic?  Writer: Well, now it's twelve.)

Anyhow, I picked our second day hike on the following criteria:

1. It was relatively flat.
2. It ended at or near a pub.
3. It was three miles or shorter (a Carol request)

On the Oxfordshire Walks app, I found a hike that perfectly met the criteria.  It was the Bledington 2.5 mile hike.  Bledington is a scenic village with a 15th century church and village charm.

We crossed multiple fields, with multiple kissing gates.  We crossed over a stream, walked along a river.  On our way, we met multiple nice local people walking their dogs.  We had good lengthy chats with several dogwalkers, including a very nice young couple who loved visiting family in Virginia in 2022.

The walk was much easier, and not as hot, as the previous day.  The excitement came as we were almost back to Bledington.  As we rounded a corner in a field, a herd of cows came charging into that field, looking for fresh grass so they could eat and dump out cow pies.  Thankfully, they were all female dairy cows, so they were pretty docile.  

Carol was ahead of me and had a bit of a freak out when she thought there was a chance the cows would either trample us or want us to touch them.  Then she resolved to cut through them.  As she got close, the cows moved out the way.  Crisis averted.

At the end of the hike, we crossed over to the King's Head pub.  We actually had dinner reservations for that pub, but since we had lunch there, I cancelled dinner.  When they found out we didn't have lunch reservations, they talked to the owner and found us a table.  The food was quite good, and we had a rollicking conversation with an 83 year old gentleman who was a bit hard of hearing and only a little bit forgetful.  

We talked up until he drained his third beer of the lunch hour (but had no food).  We learned his wife doesn't like pubs so he comes to the pub by himself every day.  They moved out from London 15 years ago, but he doesn't like it in Cotswold because there isn't enough to do other than going to the pub.  The key disclosure is that they moved out to be close to their daughter, but he doesn't like the daughter.  Yup, too much information.  Don't worry Julia, Maddy, Torie -- even if I feel that way about one/all of you if I make it to 83, I wouldn't tell some strangers that observation!  I wouldn't mind being able to walk to a pub though!  He had been to the States eight or nine times.

The food was great, and I enjoyed my post-hike pint, which is one of the things I looked forward to most about Cotswold -- a hike followed by a pub lunch.  Being Sunday, we had Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding, and it was divine!

There I was, sitting by a fireplace (unlit, of course given that it is June), drinking a pint and enjoying Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding.  I felt like a quintessential Brit.  And it felt good (don't tell my Irish ancestors, but I'm not one to blame people today for the sins of their ancestors.

Now is probably a good time to mention village names in Cotswold.  Names like Bourton on Water, Chipping Norton, Stow on the Wold, Upper Slaughter, Chipping Camden, Moreton on Marsh, Temple Guiting, Lower Slaughter,  Oddlington, Winchcombe, Guiting Power, Bibury, and many more unusual names to numerous to mention.  It's as though the villagers naming the villages 1,000+ years ago said, "what name can we come up with to create tourist frenzies in one thousand years?"  Hence that list.

Oh, and here's some pictures from the hike.

Well, this isn't from the hike,

but it's my Roast Beef,

Yorkshire Pudding, and pint

at the King's Head Pub.

Views like this abounded.

The haziness surprised us.

Typical field on the hike.

One of the streams.

Carol marches forward, and the cows

separate like she's a hot knife

through butter.

A house in Bledington.

The King's Head Pub.  I should have

taken this photo when we started the

hike, as cars hadn't filled the car park.

A Quiet Late Afternoon

After the hike up to Broadway Tower, I was a bit worn out.  So we drove back to DYC and relaxed/got ready for dinner.  I had made reservations at the acclaimed Feathered Nest pub, but we didn't want a 45 minute roundtrip for  dinner, so I had booked The Half Way at Kineton at the early time slot of 6-8 pm, as that's all they had available.

The place is great.  It was our third time there (first for dinner), and it had fabulous food, a good wine list, and a friendly waiter.

It was nice to have such a short commute there (50 yard walk up hill) and back (50 yard walk down hill).  The food at The Half Way pub at Kineton is better than it was at Hollow Bottom.  That's not a knock on the Hollow Bottom pub, just our opinion.

My theory is that it is named The Half Way because it's halfway between Temple Guiting and Guiting Power.  

Drinks the first night

at The Half Way.

The third night featured live music

and a pretty heavy rain storm.

The Half Way Is My New

Favorite British Pub.

My Former Favorite?

All the others I've been to.

It May Have Been A Hard Hike, But At Least It Was Hot

Carol made breakfast in the small cottage kitchen, and then we ate out on the picnic table on the bucolic upper yard.  It was quite a pleasant morning, so we weren't in a rush to get going.  We meandered around the various yards of the small farm.  We ended up chatting a while with Mick Morrissey, a very pleasant chap and veteran.  He turned out to be the third Mick we spent a fair amount of time with on this trip.

Of the three Micks, Mick Morrissey was one of the three nicest (that's my way of saying they are all nice).  And then we had another nice conversation with Sally-Anne, and met one of their four adult kids, a daughter who, like mother and father, was quite nice.  

When we eventually did get moving, I used the "Cotswolds (yup, it's misspelled on the app) Walks" app to pick out a hike.  The app is great, as it gives you GPS while walking, directions on where to park, pubs/cafes en route, distance/time, and a brief description of the hike.

I chose Broadway and Broadway Tower, a four mile hike up to Broadway Tower, which is at the second highest points in Cotswold.  The walk begins in the village before heading out through relatively flat, yet bucolic, fields.  We crossed a field with two horses who decided they had to follow closely behind.  You can count the number of times I've been horseback riding on two hands, and honestly, possible only one hand, so neither Carol nor I are completely comfortable with things like horses and cows (foreshadowing).

As you go from field to field, you transit each field via kissing gates.  The kissing gate technology has improved considerably since 1984, but I do miss those old wooden kissing gates.  The new metal ones certainly cost less to maintain, but the romance of metal isn't the same as romance of wood.  A kissing gate allows people to pass through a fence from field to field, but animals can't get through them.  That whole "opposable thumbs" conundrum!

The walking path turned back down to the road we drove in on.  It was nice to see at slow speed the quaint-nicity (not a word) that we saw on the way into town. Then, there is a left turn that starts up hill.  The elevation gain is only around 800 feet, but it seems like you do it all at once, up over about a mile and a half climb.  Thankfully, the route we went up was mostly through woods, while the other (shorter) route would have been almost exclusively in the sun.

By the time we got into parts of the hike up that were sun-blasted, we were high enough to be afforded wonderful bucoloc, albeit hazy, views of the valleys below.  We kept going to the top of the Cotswold escarpment.  At one point we passed a whole bunch of sheep massed in the corner of the field right by us, so we had a nice conversation with the sheep before moving on. 

It was a good, albeit hot, walk up to the Morris and Brown Cafe, which is a couple hundred yards from the Tower.  We stopped there to have a light lunch and to keep hydrating.

The Tower was the brainchild of Capability Brown, back when men were men and had names like "Capability."  It was the country retreat of writer, designed, and leading socialist William Morris.  Given how posh the Tower was for its time (the late 1800s), Morris is proof that no one does hypocrisy as well as socialists do.

We decided not to go into the Tower (pictured below), but to walk around it and then head back down to the village of Broadway. This route was downhill but mostly in the sun.  On the way down, I said to three hikes going up that "This is the easier way to go" whilst pointing downhill.  They laughed.  They are also young and each of them have two working knees.  Close to the bottom, the sun got to me, as even my ballcap wasn't sufficient protection.

(Editor: "The route was downhill. . .no kidding!  The Tower is at the top of the second highest point in Cotswold.  Writer: Not everyone pays as much attention as you do, for which I am grateful.)

Once back in Broadway, I rehydrated and started feeling better.  We decided to save exploring the town for another day.

A bucolic selfie

The Broadway Tower selfie.

A bucolic view.

A bucolic village church tower.

Pretty horses (yes, I went with Dwight

Yoakam lyrices.  These aren't wild

horses, so I couldn't go with the Stones.

When you pass through fields,

the horses can get up close

and personal.

A bucolic valley trail.

Bucolic houses on the outskirts

of Broadway village.

This tree is outstanding in a bucolic field.

A bucolic country house.

Bucolic flowers.

A bucolic country church.

The trail just before it

headed up the escarpment.

(Any blog post that includes

"escarpment" is a good post.)

Another bucolic, albeit hazy, view.

Bucolic sheep scene.

Bucolic flowers.

Broadway Tower.

Not sure of the value of the top row of

stones pointing up.  If someone wanted to

climb over they could just knock the stones

off, no?

Its a little-bitty castle.

The bucolic village of Broadway, from

approximately 800 feet above.

Bucolic field with bucolic sheep bucolicly

eating above a bucolic field.

"This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town
I was a dreamer before you went and let 

me down Now it's too late for you and your

white horse To come around."

(The above caption is a test to see which of

my daughters read this blog closely, if any do

read it at all).

Without trying hard, I managed nine uses of "bucolic."  Just trying to make sure my readers understand that Cotswold is bucolic (whelp, there's ten eleven uses!).