Escape to the Cotswolds

Monday marked the end of England's Stay at Home Covid rule, consequently we found ourselves free to wander the English countryside at will, so long as we returned home at night. The Cotswolds beckoned!

An hour's drive brought us to Bibury, from where we planned to set off for a 7 mile walk across the rolling Cotswolds countryside to Coln St Aldwyns, then back along the banks of the River Coln to Bibury.

First, though, a look around the most famous part of Bibury – so famous that it even appears in the new UK passports.  Arlington Row dates back to 1380, when its buildings were used to store wool. They were converted into cottages in the 17th century and are now in the care of the National Trust. 

 

 

A friend of mine visited Bibury a few years ago, joining throngs of Japanese visitors.  He recalls that "Private" notices on these cottages were written in English and Japanese.  Now the Japanese tourists can't come and the "Private" signs have disappeared.  You might imagine visitors realise that these are homes of people who deserve some freedom to go about their lives... but read on.

I hope you're not offended by the car in the foreground of this photo.  Back in February 2017 a car parked on that spot made headline news when it was vandalised by brainless idiots who claimed that it spoiled the view.  Poor Mr Maddox! I sincerely hope that his insurance company coughed up for the repairs (estimated at £6000) and that he lives henceforth in peace and security.

On with the walk, past the cottages and up the delightfully named Awkward Hill.  One of the delights of the Cotswolds in the abundance of odd place names, like this one...

 

After a picnic – how nice it is to legally picnic once more – we descended to the Coln Valley, intent on exploring Coln St Aldwyns.

The Post Office in Coln was selling take-away homemade cake... very yummy. This little song thrush came right up to my shoes, hoping for some crumbs. I succumbed, of course.

I imagine that the Coln Valley in these parts must frequently flood, judging by the small amount of river bank above the water.  The walk back to Bibury was very pleasant, and not without interest for children – even old ones.

 

Finally, back to picturesque Bibury.

For those unwilling to pay Antique Shop prices, the Parish Church had a splenid collection of bric-a-brac for sale.  The notice invited me to "give what you feel an item as worth." (sic.) I resisted the temptation, but later regretted passing on the chance to buy one of those spendid teapots.

In truth, the item I most admired was that circular table beneath the mountain of crockery.  Sadly, I've nowhere to put it... and anyway, it wouldn't fit in the car.

 

 

This I did like – "A candle of hope that will remain burning in this church for the duration of the COVID-19 crisis."  On this day of newly-restored freedom, it's good to remember those who have suffered greatly, and endured the loss of loved ones, in this ghastly pandemic. A good place, me thinks, to end this post. 

Lockdown Anniversary

March 23rd has been declared a National Day of Reflection – the anniversary of the first Covid-19 lockdown.  There will be a nationwide minute of silence at midday, candles and lanterns will be lit and bells will toll.

However, for me it is today, March 16th, that marks a year since I, together with everyone aged 70 and over, was locked down.  It was a bitter blow, not least because it divided husband and wife.  My 68 year old spouse could go shopping and visit friends, whilst I was advised only to leave home for exercise.  On the 18th I blogged:

"Day 3, and the walls are closing in.  As the dawn broke this morning, I lay in bed, fully awake, and felt trapped – a prisoner in my own home."

Thankfully, the government quickly realised that such restrictions should be based on health, not age alone, and within three weeks we were shopping together once more. For me, the worst weeks of the entire lockdown were over.

Despite this, the same flawed ideas came to the fore again in May. The reasoning was simple: if we lock down all the oldies, they won't be at risk of serious illness and the rest of the population can get on with life.  Try telling that one to Care Home staff, or multi-generational families living in the same house!

Re-reading that old post was both interesting and poignent. I was still hoping to celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary with a holiday in Ireland in mid-August, though I was already having doubts.  In the event, we postponed Ireland to 2021 and went to Devon. Much more seriously, I reported that Sir Patrick Vallance, the government's chief scientific officer, was hoping that the death toll from COVID would not exceed 20,000. "That sounds an horrendously high figure," I commented, little realising that the UK death toll would eventually exceed 125,000.

125,000... what a truly ghastly statistic! And what of the countless doctors, nurses and carers who risked their lives to care for the sick and dying?  The least I can, and will, do is to stand in silence for a minute on March 23rd.