From: Chedworth to Stow-on-the-Wold
Distance: 13m / 20.8km
Cumulated distance: 372m / 599km
Percentage completed: 36.2

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The view across Chedworth valley could barely be seen from the window when I first looked out this morning. It had rained heavily all night. Yet another time when I was thankful I wasn’t wild camping. Instead I was warm and cosy at the wonderfully friendly and hospitable Baldwin House B&B. This is THE place to stay if you’re visiting Chedworth https://www.bandbcotswoldschedworth.co.uk

View from the bedroom window

With any other company today there would be grumbles about the wet. But no! Today I was being joined by Swampy and Nigel, whose effervescent optimism knows no bounds. So as we walked into the village of Chedworth the first game to be played .. they do like a game .. was listing all the positive features of rain. Tomorrow they’re going to guest edit so I’ll leave them to tell you all about them.

Imaginatively attired Swampy Junior and Senior

 

Delightful sign to decipher

Sometimes the oddest of occupations can lead to a lucky break. So it was for Thomas Margetts the game-keeper, when in 1864 while digging out a ferret, he came across one of the largest and best-preserved Roman villas in the country. In truth he found pottery and paving which hinted at what was beneath the ground .. a series of beautiful mosaic floors. Cirencester was the second largest settlement in Britain at the time the villa at Chedworth was built and it must surely have belonged to one of the wealthiest families in the country, judging by the extraordinary detail and beauty of the floors.

Leaving Chedworth village

It must have been the influence of Swampy and Nigel but half-way through the climb out of Chedworth the rain stopped. It was also the point at which the first navigational error was made, making for a steeper climb but less time in the mud. I was very happy to stay on the clean, dry track but the boys were still mud-virgins and so insisted we got back on the Mudmillan Way to get the whole experience.

The mud option

 

Getting into the spirit. Do note what smart hikers are using as backpack covers these days.

Walking through the woods was a delight. Not a soul to be seen and not a breath of wind to disturb the stillness or break the concentration of thinking about what Swampy could possibly have spied that began with J.

Chedworth woods

And on to Yanworth. Gorgeously pretty with another of those ‘food for thought’ signs to describe the attributes of the place .. what IS that white heap in the middle? I was out-voted thinking it was a ship on the ocean waves. What do you reckon, gentle reader?

Yanworth’s sign

The Church of St Michael’s dates back to the 11th century. Like many churches in the Cotswolds, its isolation from the village was likely due to the Black Death which swept through Gloucestershire and Oxfordshire in the 14th century. In order to try to contain the epidemic, many houses were destroyed and burnt to the ground, leaving only the church and a few substantial buildings standing. St Michael’s stands on the edge of the village with only Church Farm for company.

Deeply nestled church at Yanworth

After an unnecessary yet delightful circling of the church we walked on through fields of mud, occasionally deviating from the Macmillan Way and on to the Monarch’s Way.

Sticker replaces with a bona fide sign for my favourite Way

Walking through the Cotswold Hills was just heavenly .. softly undulating hills with verdant valleys and views across Gloucestershire when you reached the top. One of the highlights of the day was the village of Hampnett. I suspect that the absence of a pub has kept the village tourist free and it felt as if we’d fallen upon one of the Cotswolds closely kept secrets. Swampy fell in love with a row of cottages with a hopelessly romantic name .. while Nigel had his eye on the converted chapel, without the proprietorial cat.

Happy Valley cottages

 

More gorgeousness

Lunch was at the understated and hugely popular Plough Inn at Cold Aston. Excellent food and the ubiquitous black lab. And thereafter occurred the accidental highlight of the day. Before I could look at the map, Swampy confidently pronounced the Macmillan Way restarted to the right of the pub. Like sheep we followed and began our 360 loop of the village, ending up back at the pub. Little did we know but our folly was being observed by the Nicholson family, whose farmhouse overlooks the maternity field of sheep and their lambs that we had crossed. As we realised our error and reversed back up the hill, an energetic young woman came hot-footing towards us, inviting us in for tea! Her father had been looking out through his binoculars, at his sheep when he saw us trudging past. Quick-wittedly he saw the flag on my pack, liked the look of the black dog .. the family has two of their own .. looked Walking The Black Dog up on Google and sent his daughter out to invite us for tea. The whole Nicholson family took us into their warm fold for tea, cake, chocolate, cheese .. and we were bowled over by the kindness of strangers. It was one of life’s really special moments and we talked about it for the rest of the afternoon.

The wonderful Nicholson family

 

Cuddling one of their lambs

 

Delighting in their mother and daughter flat-coated retrievers

And then it was back to the mud, after a truly uplifting interlude. There were many opportunities to show inventiveness in avoiding the stuff .. some more successful than others.

Athletic Swampy trying to keep his shoes clean

 

Me, knowing there’s just no avoiding it.

 

Fabulous views as the skies tried to clear

Despite their murderous names, the villages of Upper and Lower Slaughter are not homes to notorious serial killers. They both straddle the tiny River Eye and slaughter or ‘muddy place’ refers to the boggy ground upon which the villages were founded. Far from being murderous the Slaughters are exquisitely beautiful Cotswold villages, with tourists flooding in throughout the year to see quintessential England. It’s easy to imagine yourself in a Helen Allingham painting or in a scene from ‘Cider with Rosie’, as nothing has been built in the villages since 1906, when the esteemed Sir Edward Lutyens (he of Rhodes House fame), built a final few cottages around the square in the lower village. Upper Slaughter is another of the Thankful or ‘Sainted’ Villages.

Lower Slaughter

After more creative map-reading we reached the hill up to Stow on the Wold. It’s an ancient Cotswold wool town which lies to the east of the Fosse Way, an old Roman road, which I know like the back of my hand. I’ve probably driven up and down from the Cotswolds to Leicester several hundred times, visiting my parents. The full length of the arrow straight road, is from Exeter to Lincoln. Edward the Missionary purportedly lived on the hill at Stow. The word ‘wold’ as in Cotswold, means hill and Stow refers to a holy place, so Stow on the Wold simply means Holy Place on the Hill. The town is chocolate box pretty, although after the hidden beauty of Hampnett, Yanworth and Cold Aston it felt very commercialised, with its Cotswold teatowels, mugs and souvenirs in many of the windows.

As we sat and had dinner, with rosy cheeks from being outside all day, we chatted about the day .. a very good one by anyone’s standards, even the Glass Half Full Swamp-meister and his dad.

Black Dog Tails
Bella is little Ethan’s ‘furry therapist’. Ethan has autism and Bella is a great comfort to him at stressful times.



 

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