It was time to leave the city behind. The English countryside that I had heard so much about beckoned with town names that were a mouthful. As I hopped off the train from London at a middle-of-nowhere tiny train station and looked for the bus to Chipping Campden, I wasn’t very sure if I could pull this one off. But when the bus (famous for being sporadic) actually pulled up on time, my doubts melted away and the warmth of the people enveloped me in a new-found countryside confidence.
We meandered five miles into Chipping Campden through winding one lane roads. Instantly, I wanted to grab hold of the green cheeks of these immensely cute hills and give them a good shake, making the sheep on them giggle in glee. Honestly, I could beat a few words to death in this region – cute, charming, quaint, idyllic and warm. It’s no wonder that numerous walking paths are cut into these hills – public footpaths that are allowed to cross into private property through fences, over stiles and past kissing gates. It ain’t hiking; it’s walking. And slow down you must.
Highlight: 5 mile walk from Chipping Campden to Broadway with my new friends Ann, Chris and Barry.
Other little people jewels rounded up the Cotswold magic – the best B&B host in four weeks, an older British gentlemen who waxed perfect Tamil from a memory that went back fifty years and a wizened bookstore owner with adorable quotes.