Z is for Zero

Day Zero dawned dry and overcast in South Gloucestershire. With only 10 miles remaining and a county border to cross, we tucked into our final hearty breakfast (how many times did I plan to decline the full English only to find myself feeling sorry for our hostess and accepting - that breakfast is the B&B owner's pride and joy, and it would have been churlish to refuse).

The 'find' of the day was definitely the Landsdown Battlefields, clearly demarked by flags at each corner and brought to life by fascinating information boards - a Trail writer's delight if ever there was.

Descending into Bath I began having mixed feelings. The holiday and the adventure were almost over. The sense of excitement in finishing the Trail was building with every step whilst alongside was the knowledge that we would no longer be living the simple life - wake, walk, breathe fresh air, dine, sleep - and as the city came into view before us I wasn't sure whether to speed up or slow down. In the end my creaking joints and tired muscles made the decision for me...but at 2.30pm on Saturday 8th October 2011 we arrived at Bath Abbey!

104 miles, 9 days, 8 fabulous overnight accommodation providers, 1 faultless baggage transfer service and no serious injuries later The Cotswold Way was behind us. Now all that remains is for me to finish writing the Companion Treasure Trail and to thank all those of you who have followed this adventure. In particular I'd like to mention the Treasure Trails Gang who are working feverishly to grow the catalogue of exciting and fun ways to discover more about our great country, our family and friends, son and daughter who are now old enough to be taxi drivers to start and finish, and the latter for training to administer the oh-so-welcome foot massage on return home. Most of all however, I'd like to thank Stephen for driving forward and lapping up this adventure and for his encouragement, support and tolerance of his co-walker. The experience will be a lifetime memory.

Now what shall I do next?

Friday - Day 8

As we were walking today I took a ‘phone call from a friend who had forgotten we were away adventuring. There we were, crossing a field, somewhere between Tormarton and Dyrham and I’m chatting to my pal in Brighton – it makes you think. Later,  as we called in at Dyrham Park (NT) for a spot of lunch, we each checked emails, sent the odd text and reflected again on the mild inconvenience of staying in a village without access to the internet on our final night. It’s easy to take technology for granted. That said, I think it’s probably even easier to be complacent about the magnificence of our own sceptred isle and why I'm do delighted that the trend towards the staycation has been a positive outcome of the economic downturn.  It's also what I love about Treasure Trails. Our fundamental mission is to encourage as many people as possible to get out and about, exploring, appreciating all that the UK has to offer whilst enjoying working together, having fun, in the fresh air. If this week has done nothing else then it has at least underscored that there are endless places that we should and could be appreciating more and by writing a Cotswold Way Companion Trail I’m hoping to be able to incorporate some of the Gloucestershire gems that would otherwise probably be missed on a standard Trail. How popular it will be remains to be seen but it's been fun in the creating.

We were rather dragged back to reality today. Suddenly the world reemerged before our very eyes - from narrow lanes, fields and escarpments which had dominated the landscape and our surroundings for the past several days, today we were faced with busy roads. As lorries hurtled past through Old Sodbury, we later crossed the M4 and the noise of the nearby A46 buzzed in our ears for a large part of the day it was apparent that our end goal really was now not that far away. Suddenly the absence of wifi in the remote village of Cold Ashton seemed like a blessing. Even my daughter remarked recently that whilst her iphone had been out of action she had returned to the joys of reading a book but this had only struck her once the said piece of technology was fully functionning again. So anyway, apologies if you missed me.

On Friday evening, I was talking to real people.

Not long now... Day 7

Yesterday evening, during the power cuts in Wotton, I called my Mum. Naturally she’s interested in what we’re doing and where we are but what she really wants to know is how we’re feeling, and by that she means our health. Ever the dutiful daughter and brought up to tell the truth I confessed that I had been suffering a little during the day with cramp. Mum is of the generation which would suck on nutmeg for toothache and treat a burn with a bicarbonate of soda poultice and although she’s often right, I would generally go away and research her suggestions (as much out of curiosity as to validate what might otherwise, in the new millennium, be considered slightly wacky ideas) but I wasn’t able to do that so, smiling to myself, I simply did as I was told. Earlier I had learned that my blogging progress through the alphabet has generated a little interest and indeed some are having fun pre-empting what might be coming next. It was for this reason as much as any other that I was grateful to Mum for solving a small conundrum and hopefully for keeping my readers on their toes. We headed for the bar and with no further hesitation, I followed instructions. Cheers Mum (and Mr Schweppes). Her orders were to increase my intake of quinine!

Today’s walking has had a rather different feel to it. Thankfully we were back in shorts but the terrain ahead was described as ‘lacking in as much drama’ as in previous days. Apart from climbing out of Wotton under Edge up to Tor Hill for a fine view over Nanny Farmer’s Bottom, much of the 13 miles has been across open countryside, via the occasional small village and up and down through woodland. Perhaps with fewer of those 1s and 2s to concern me (ref yesterday), I spent quite some time thinking about the variety of underfoot surfaces we have experienced and their impact on the long distance walker (i.e.me – nothing seems to affect Stephen). Long grass requires picking your feet up or wet socks depending on the weather, dry leaves hide sneaky tree roots, wet ones can be treacherously slippery,  thin mud makes me feel slightly insecure, thick mud cakes your boots making them weigh more, dung is, well, dung, and don’t get me started on stones which seem to lie in wait for me to try turning an ankle or losing my footing at every opportunity. I was therefore particularly grateful to those long gone drovers who left the legacy of a wonderfully wide, flat, smooth mile or so along which we passed early afternoon. For once I was able to walk sure-footed and really look around, rather than where I was putting my feet, to appreciate the magnificent views.  Good on’ya drovers.

By now the monument to General Lord Robert Somerset (thank you for having perfect initials) was behind us and ahead lay St Adeline in Little Sodbury where Tyndale is honoured. It is fitting that he should be my T since today is the 475^th anniversary of the date on which he was martyred for translating the bible into English.

In the past 7 days we’ve enjoyed unbelievable views and it’s been a wonderful experience. If you’re confused however as to why I’m rather force fitting this commentary and racing through the alphabet with 19 miles and 2 days still to go it’s because it’s unlikely that we’ll have access to a wifi connection tomorrow so this may be my last post before Saturday. I hope you’ll join me for a final time then, to conclude our adventure.

Yours,

Day 6 - en route to Wotton under Edge

I lost my hat today. I've got to say that I don't much like wearing hats and I am certainly not a fan of baseball caps, on anyone, least of all myself. Stephen once commented that a baseball cap made my head look disproportionately small (I've tried looking for the silver lining in this comment, believe me) but whatever the case I was the owner of a baseball cap, until today. I think I only ever wore it when I first purchased it and earlier this week - it has to be pretty hot for me to concede defeat - in fact rather like it was both a few days ago and in Florida 10 years ago. I bought it whilst we were at Universal Studios and as such it had the inevitable logo splashed across the front (another thing I really don't much approve of) but at least this wasn't a sports team or a fashion house brand. Anyway, it's now gone. I'm not sure if it decided to go hang gliding off Cam Long Down, take in the longer scenic route around Stinchcombe Golf Course or took a wrong turn somewhere in Westridge Wood but having been tied firmly to my pack since last worn on Monday it's now no-where to be seen. I liked it, but I confess not enough to go back and look for it. After 13 miles including battling the elements today I had to let it go. If anyone happens to find it and return it, there's a free Treasure Trail on offer as a thank you, but I won't hold my breath.

By some literary miraculous coincidence we walked both past neolithic Nympsfield long barrow and through North Nibley - very helpful (I wish I could say I engineered that but I didn't).

On a separate note, in the marvellous little Trailblazer book we're following, hills are denoted not by contour lines but by little arrows, like this: ------>----- or ------>>----- the number of arrows signifying the severity of the slope and their direction, whether this is up or down. We have come to refer to these as number ones and number twos! I giggle to myself every time Stephen tells me there's a number 2 coming up but the smile doesn't last long. Both the steep uphill climbs and the steep downhill totters are opportunites for him to scamper off and leave me until I huff and puff or stumble to join him at the end. Today there have been quite a few - so my O is for Ouch.

The pricey plastic coat came out of it's little bag today too. Crumbs it was blowy up top and battling against wind and rain up steep hills is even harder work but nevertheless we've arrived at the end of day 6 intact, if a little soggy. Somehow, and I know it's ridiculous, but having past half way it DOES rather feel like we're on the downhill stretch now.

Right I'm going to have to stop - Wotton has been engulfed by a power cut and I'm running on battery power - but before I finish I thought I'd just tell you what the logo was on my baseball cap. I always thought it rather fitting, kind of summed me up really. You might recall the film and, if you'd been at Univeral Studios back then, would probably have been on the ride. It said - "The Mummy" - that's me.

Night night.

What! The L ....?

If I had needed an alphabetical hook on which to hang today's commentary I would have need look no further than Lead Legs and Lethargy. You'd have thought that after 4 days I'd have got the post-walk stretch and the sleep patterns down to a tee but evidently something didn't quite go to plan and today, from the outset, I could tell it was going to be a toughie. It was a shame actually since we had fewer miles to cover and the weather was far better suited to an up-hill, down-dale itinerary - in theory therefore, an easier day. Nevertheless, here we are in Kings Stanley, tired, but tomorrow is another day.

And anyway, I didn't need any help with my thoughts for today - L was already decided. Today I was walking for Lynne. We even decided to take the longer scenic route over Selsey Common into 'base'. Despite being more than a little weary, the way I looked at it, if she had needed a kidney I'd have donated one. Somehow it seemed appropriate, therefore, however sore MY feet were today, to walk the extra mile. Lynne is my sister. I've just heard that all went well and recovery can now begin.

Today was memorable in other ways too. M marked a milestone - we reached the Midway point. From here on in we have fewer miles in front of us than behind. If I'd have had it my way there would have been a big fat chalk line across the path to mark it properly but that was never going to happen. As it was, for a period of about 3 miles I drove Stephen mad continuously asking if it was marked on the map or whether he felt we'd passed IT. In the end, I decided for myself that the top of Haresfield Beacon was as good a place as any to mark the moment and set the auto-timer on my camera to record our achievement.

Long day tomorrow....

Day 4 - Seven Springs to Painswick

"And did those feet, in ancient times, walk upon England's mountains green...."  When you are walking, especially with a companion who's also a friend of 20+ years and with whom silences are no longer worrying but an acceptably peaceful interlude, you do a lot of thinking. This line from 'Jerusalem' popped into my mind as we set off on Day 4 to climb Leckhampton HIll, and that set me thinking firstly about my long departed father, a church organist amongst other things who played this piece over and over, but also about how long the path we are treading has been walked by people before us. The Cotswolds Way is really an ancient series of routes walked by thousands of people throughout the course of history which have subsequently been linked by the Rambler's Association into the 104 mile Trail we know today. That, in turn, got me thinking about different types of walkers - those who revel in the long distance challenge, those who fancy a bit of excercise on a Sunday after a week behind a desk and those who simply want to step out briefly when the weather is fine. As far as I'm concerned, all walking is good. Good for the body, good for the mind and good for the spirit. And thank goodness we're not all the same. Wouldn't life be dull if we were?

I slept incrediby well last night. The pillow suited me particularly well. I like one of the feathered variety: Stephen prefers the bounce-back marshmallow of the hypoallergenic style. I passed up Downton Abbey so he could watch Spooks. He's a big picture person and has to control the map: I need the chunk by chunk detail so I can tackle each step in turn but trust that we're going to get to our destination in the end. My point is that people are different and I like that. Variety is good for us. The route of today's 14 miles has certainly been different. We progressed from the wild and exposed escarpment atop Leckhampton Hill and before long found ourselves in woodland - and thus the day progressed. The dappled shade, less fierce Autumnal sunshine and the crunch of dry leaves under foot made for a joyous day. The heat of the weekend left us in favour of fabulous walking weather. Highlights included seeing the Devil's Chimney and climbing Cooper's Hill. There's an example of how it takes all sorts if ever you needed one. Who in their right minds would wish to throw themselves off a 2 :1 slope to chase a cheese?! But yet they do (or did). As my grandmother would have said, "There's nowt so queer as folk"! Sorry, where was I? Ah yes, woodland. I was once told that the best place to walk for your health was woodland - all that marvellous oxygen thrown into the air by the CO2 converting leaves. No, the only problem with woodland as far as I can see, has been the distinct absence of clue material for my Cotswold Way Companion Treasure Trail - but hopefully tomorrow will redress the balance.

Almost time to retire now. I tried to think of a K topic today but all I could recall was that somewhere along the way we read that once there had been in excess of 200 stiles along the full length of this national trail. I'm pleased to report that most have now been replaced by kissing gates.

I'm deliberately saving L for tomorrow - in fact I'm dedicating tomorrow's walking to L .... she will understand, but all will be revealed.

In the front of our guide book we found the lyrics to a song dedicated to walkers of the Cotswold Way. The author is one Ivor Gurney. I’m not sure if a Gurney is what I have, but I do have a real sense of achievement today, especially after conquering Wistley Hill (amongst others). Anyone who knows this terrain will understand. The Cotswolds are ‘an undulating series of Jurassic-age rocks including silts, clays and sands, as well as the famous Cotswold limestone which largely constitutes the surface layer’. Well that’s the official line. As far as I’m concerned it’s a series of ups and downs, some steeper than others, with fabulous views and an opportunity to soak up all that lovely fresh air but it’s fair to say that my muscles this evening attest to the fact that we seem to have tackled several of the more challenging ups and downs in our 10 mile, day 3 stretch.

After climbing Cleeve Hill, the highest point on the Trail, straight after breakfast, we followed the escarpment overlooking Cheltenham for a considerable distance, dropped through Dowdeswell Wood, climbed again through Lineover Wood,  up to the top of Wistley Heights, finally losing altitude on the final stretch to reach our overnight stay close to Seven Springs. It’s been a good day and, albeit short in comparison to yesterday, I feel a pat on the back is in order.

Weather wise it’s been a scorcher again – a proper Indian summer.  Any idea where that saying came from? Funny how we use expressions not necessarily knowing what they mean or the derivation. We debated an association with colonial visits after the English summer was over, and recalled some possible link with the Indian trade links but neither of us was actually certain. According to the BBC the term should more correctly be "Native American summer" but that doesn't have quite the same ring to it, does it?" It seems the native Americans of the north east coast depended quite heavily on a late period of sunshine to bring in their crops and this, rather than anything from the sub-continent, is the source of the expression. 

And so day 3 draws to a close. The alphabetical links may seem hidden today but are still lurking - Gurney, Heights and Indian summer - perhaps you spotted them. And I wonder how many are curious about that song? I won't quote it here (you can read it for yourself if you like http://allpoetry.com/poem/8540715-Walking_Song-by-Ivor_Gurney)  but will rather leave you with this image of the view looking back from above Cleeve Hill and with a Native American saying which appeals to us:

"We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors: we borrow it from our children" 

Day 2 - Stanton to Cleeve Hill

Tucking into the most delicious full English this morning I was reminded that I had intended but forgotten, last night, to address a minor inconvenience - a phenomon that no doubt has a proper name and a biological explanation but that we call sausage fingers! The gradual swelling of the digits during the course of any walk longer than a couple of miles is probably not uncommon (at least I hope it's not just Stephen and I that are weird) but I haven't yet found a way to resolve it short of walking all day with my hands flung to the heavens in a sort of 'Hallelujah, praise the Lord' kind of way and so, with the intention simply to alleviate any discomfort, had decided that what I needed to do was remove my rings. After breakfast therefore I set to with the sun tan lotion thinking that this would be a good way of sliding said restricting bands off. First the silver signet ring that's been around since I was 12 was dispatched, followed swiftly by my eternity ring but that was the end of the game. My wedding ring simply refused to budge. I tried soap, moisturiser, brute force and .... gave up. I decided that this was a sign and that my wedding ring was intended to stay put and that was that. The sausage situation was destined to remain with me - and so was Stephen. Awww, bless.

Anyway, enough indulgence, about this walk... The day had dawned hot and sunny again. We learnt that it was predicted to be the hottest October day on record in the Cotswolds. Not quite believing our luck, we set off leaving Stanton behind us en route for Cleeve Hill some 13 miles distant. It's been a D, E, F day.

D is for of Degrees - of temperature, of ascent and descent, and of difficulty. As we passed through Stanway, climbed towards Beckbury Camp and the unexpected monument we felt on top of the world. The burning question at this stage of the day was how to explain the fascinatingly furrowed fields. First the theory was that these were limestone relics of a sea bed, then we decided they were probably where giant veg were grown before realising that the superb 'trailblaizer' guide we had been given, laid out the solution in black and white - medieval ploughing humps! (I feel a Google moment coming on) And so the day continued....

Next stop was Hailes Abbey followed by, at lunchtime, our arrival into Winchcombe, familiar territory thanks to the Murder Mystery Trail I wrote there just over a year ago and which remains a popular favourite.  After lunch we climbed again to Belas Knapp (the guide book rather amusingly insists at this point that there should be 'no cheating - go round the field') and onward to Cleeve Hill. At one stage we were directed to walk beneath a line of pylons - not you might think the most attractive of landmarks but this turned out to be a defining moment. We stopped, albeit biefly. So spectacular were the views (with the pylons behind us), so peaceful were the surroundings that we could hear the electricty crackle overhead. Now that's quiet...

Tonight we are holed up in a delightful place just off Cleeve Common. In the spirit of sharing we have just enjoyed a fabuous meal in the first class restaurant at The Malvern View http://www.malvernview.com/ And so to today's E and F. E is for Einstein and F is for Fish. This morning, a dear friend from Washington DC, who is following our progress, posted a quote on Facebook. We were inspired. As we walked we reflected on how fortunate we were to have the luxury of time, the opportunity to get away and the landscape to explore and these inspirational moments brought us back to that quote,

"Everyone is a genius. but if you judge a fish by its ability to climb trees it will live its life thinking it is stupid."A Einstein

It's been a great day. I'll leave you on that note. G'night.

Day 1... Let the Adventure Begin

Today I found my stride - eventually! For a while I thought I'd left it behind at home, along with my walking pole (my mother, who bought mine for me as a gift, will NOT be happy), and my beloved at one stage early on suggested that perhaps I'd packed it in my suitcase along with my sense of humour, but as the morning wore on I found it again. I think perhaps it was just suffering from the effects of too late a night. I don't know about you but I have a tendency, when about to go on holiday, to suddenly decided that it's ESSENTIAL to strip all the beds, vacuum the house from top to bottom, fill the fridge to bursting for those at home in my absence and THEN think about packing. Inevitably therefore it was quite late when I retired on the eve of our adventure but still, as I said, I finally found my stride.

The day can probably be summed up, in the way many things begin, with an A. B. C.
A for Adventure. Not just our own, although we did get chatting about some others we recalled from our youth, but also for MacsAdventure, the company we have charged with the organisation of all the logistics for this trip - and what a sterling job they have done. Pretty much the only thing they haven't done for us is walk the Trail itself (although I suspect most of their staff have done that too, and got the t-shirt). They have booked all our accommodation, organised the transfer of our luggage and even booked some of our evening meals. Now that's what I call service. http://www.macsadventure.com/

By about 11.00am we decided that B was for blessed breeze- crumbs it's been hot today. Last weekend we had lunch with friends. One half of the couple, a more experieinced walker than I, asked which direction we were walking "The Way". 'North to south, naturally' we said, 'given our starting location'. What we didn't expect was the sharp intake of breath a la builder. Well we couldn't leave it there.... "Why?" And he's right. Walking north to south in poor weather would mean you are more than likely to be facing into the prevailing wind: on a sunny day however you are walking INTO the sun all day. Hmmm. Now, I know, and so does my nose..... despite the factor 15. Hence the B for blessed breeze.

The accolade for C goes to charming Cotswolds. On this first stretch we progressed from Chipping Campden, through Broadway and are based this evening in the delightful village of Stanton. Full of fish, frites and fresh air I'll be retiring early but guess what we did after arriving here, 10 miles in, mid-afternoon? We went for a walk! What a delightful place - I can feel a Treasure Trail coming on.

So, it's been a good first day and, in case my mother is reading, I think perhaps the reason I found my stride was that I managed to pick up a new walking pole. Here's to tomorrow...

Preparations Are Underway...

Last week we went shopping! Before setting off we counted socks, unearthed a few packets of well beyond their best-before, dehydrated meal-mix from long distant camping trips and the ingenious Russian-doll style paraffin stove and decided that most of these were not going on our Cotswolds adventure with us. But I did find my gaiters! I'd forgotten I even had these and mercifully - unlike most things you find in the back of a cupboard after 10 years - they still fit! It seems my calves and ankles have escaped what most other bits have suffered in the same decade so they moved to the 'yes' pile. Their existance did, however, cement in our minds that the weather, in the UK, in October, was more than likely to be wet, at least at SOME stage. What we needed was waterproofs! Our existing shower-proof outerwear was going to have to be replaced, or at the very least supplemented, by some serious gear. In fact 'serious' pretty much sums up that shopping trip. We stood in the store choosing between dark blue or black, wondering who in their right minds would want to wear trousers that alert your presence to every man and beast with each rustling step and thwart the intended objective of keeping clothes DRY by making you so hot that the simple act of walking, effectively inside a plastic bag, has the complete opposite result.  Nevertheless we succumed to the advice of the experts and paid up. I can't remember many occasions when I've left a shop feeling more than sightly depressed, having spent a small fortune on items that I hoped I'd never have to wear!

At this stage I should perhaps suggest that those with a sensitive disposition log off since I need to share some advice with the 'desperate' few (yes, I chose my words carefully there) following another spot of shopping earlier in the week. A matter of mild irritation when out walking, the absence of frequent and accessible 'facilities' had been troubling me with our imminent departure on 'holiday' looming. Niggled as I was by how unfair it always seemed I was determined to address the problem head on. Why is it that the chaps always seem to manage to hang back for a step or two, exchange a few words with a tree or a hedge and re-join the group without so much as a rustle before we, the girls, have even noticed their absence. Yet when it's our turn, no such luck. First we have to play hunt the thicket, then ensure it's not of the prickly kind, announce that we'd like some privacy lest the menfolk think we've been snatched by aliens having been gone so long and shed half one's wardrobe in order to find relief. I was having none of this every day for 8 days. I discovered the Shee-Wee! So having decided on the more discreet form of shopping for this particular item I ordered it via t'interweb. It arrived in it's bright pink case just over a week ago. Ah ha! One up for equality, I thought, until the time came to study the thing properley. The packaging suggested practising in the shower. Strange!? Surely the whole point was that this simple device was intended to assist with the call of nature WHEN FULLY DRESSED. I couldn't see the point in practising in the altogether, and besides how difficult could it be? It's not as if this activity was one to which I was unaccustomed. Not so. I can't describe the trial run - I'd be blacklisted - but let's say it was surreal and not a little hilarious. My husband was alerted to 'something funny going on' when I returned from a 'comfort break' flushed and with the giggles. When I explained that I'd been 'having a trial run' his first comment was "Where? In the garden?" Whatever does he take me for? Naturally I'd been replicating what I taught my son some 18 years earlier, in the bathroom, with the door shut but let me tell you, I now understand hubby's reference to that fiend, Sheik Y'Dripsoff, who threathened always to embarras little boys and I can firmly assure one and all that a certain piece of pink plastic will not be making the packing cut. We live and learn...

And as if to add insult to injury, have you now seen the forecast? Must dash - I'm off to buy sunscreen.

Treasures of the Cotswolds: A Cotswold Way Companion Trail: Pre-Prep

So, my work and play both involve walking, it's true. You'd think then that I'd be a fit young thing. Young, not so very these days and fit, well this is where I get really unstuck. You see, how ever much I love a stroll, the opportunity to explore and a good dose of fresh air in delightful surroundings, hacking up hills has never really been my thing. Actually that's not quite true - I do remember scampering up a few peaks in Derbyshire in my teens as a Venture Scout but the memory is distant, in fact the memory has gone the way of the eyesight and the joints. But I DO love an adventure and even more so, a challenge.

As a Treasure Trail writer I've been creating fun ways for people to explore my corner of the country for 18 months now. With a catalogue that combines 30 city, town and village Trails, I was reflecting on what my next project should be. Most Treasure Trails, be they Treasure Hunts, Murder Mysteries or Spy Mission Trails are, on average, 2 miles long and will occupy a family or group of friends for a couple of hours or more. Recently however I wrote a slightly longer one - 4 miles - originally as a project for a lovely group of girls who wanted a hen party with a difference. Soon afterwards I converted this into a standard Trail for sale to the public. Such has proved its popularity that the germ of an idea began to blossom. What if walkers in Gloucestershire have a taste for greater distances? What if a whole new group of walkers would give Treasure Trails a go if the distances were more challenging? Was it worth experimenting? Food for thought...

A few weeks ago hubby declared war on his headaches - eyes tested, new glasses, repositioned computer screen, a little more gardening whilst the weather was good but clearly what he really needed was a holiday.  Last autumn we headed for the magnificence of New England - Boston, New Hampshire and Vermont in the fall are breathtaking and we had a truly wonderful time but, you know, we couldn't help musing that our own autumn displays in the UK are pretty spectacular too. So this year we decided on a 'staycation'. You can see where this is going....

So here we are with a week to go. This time next Friday we're setting out on a challenging adventure to walk the length of The Cotswold Way, creating a Cotswold Way Companion Treasure Trail as we stride out. Will my creaky bits benefit or go bust? Will the sun shine on our endeavours or will we drip into our B&Bs each evening? Will the Trail be popular once written or prove a step too far? Who knows. We shall see ... want to follow the progress? See you in a few days...