I awoke at 4:30 to a brightening sky, and by the time I hit the village of Chipping Campden where the way begins, the sun was shining. I could spend a week here–the streets are quintessential English stone of all ages in the mellow golden shade of the escarpment rock. I found so many photo ops that I began to laugh out loud, and have added many pics to my collection of plants growing in impossible places.
Signs that capture the life of a place are of particular interest to me, and one which read “dirty farmers and muddy boots welcome” caught my eye. This was in the window of Buttys , and in another pane was a sign that read “salad packed to order” so you who know me will understand that Although it was early morning, I just had to pop in and order one up.
Inside, along with the aroma of fresh baguettes, I found the friendly proprietress Sarah and her daughter Olivia. Sarah is full of great stories about running a B&B here, and we chatted about that and of course, life in general. What good fortune.
Now I’m setting off for my first leg–ten miles to Stanton, where I will put up at the home of a woman my new acquaintAnce Sarah know well, carrying greetings from Sarah. The world is a very small place indeed. I may take a detour to climb Broadway tower, which once belonged to the family of the owner of Wolds End, where I spent last night. Jill at Wolds End told me stories of an ancient aunt who had lived in the tower with her thirteen cats when Jill was a child. The story goes on.