Berkeley - Tetbury - Westonbirt Arboretum - Bath

Off to Berkeley in the morning, to see Berkeley Castle. It was closed to the public that day but we were able to walk around the grounds and the beautiful gardens.  Walking around the village of Berkeley gave us a glimpse of the market-life of that quaint little town. (Is there any Cotswold village that is not quaint? I don't think so.)  Of course, I found a tiny bookshop in Berkeley and looked on the shelves for a book that needed a new home.  

In the village of Stroud, there is an old ice cream factory called Winstone's.... they have a tiny tiny store in front of their factory in which their ice cream is sold, and that's what we found on the side of a hill overlooking green farmlands.   For lunch that day, we had ice cream... very delicious and smooth, and seemingly more delicious because we ate the ice cream while enjoying the lush views beyond the Winstone's factory grounds.                                            

Loved the village of Tetbury.... the church there was another extraordinary example of craftsmanship that may no longer be available in today's ever-changing world.  And that's another thing I love about England... the British treasure their country, their heritage, their traditions, their architecture.  They seem to treasure every single blessed thing, whether it be a simple cup of tea or a magnificent cathedral built 900 years ago. Pride.... it's all a matter of pride and conscience, and of caring and consciousness, and I admire them for their steadfastness. "Keep Calm and Carry On" isn't just an advertising slogan, it's a way of life.

The village of Tetbury had marvelous little shops, but of course I remember the bookshops the most. In one of them, I found three vintage magazines, similar to the American "Reminisce" magazine. The English publication was called "Evergreen," and I found one issue for myself and two for my cousin F.  The cost of the magazines was one English pound for three issues.  We didn't have any coins at all that day, and the smallest English paper currency we had was a ten-pound note. I gave that note to the bookshop owner and he didn't want to take it... said he didn't have nine pounds in change for us, and he apologized because "giving change always seems to be a problem at this time of the day."

The bookshop owner told me to please take the magazines. I offered him American dollars for the purchase, but he declined, again saying that it was his responsibility to have change available for his customers, and he had failed that morning to visit the bank before opening the shop.  I told him that I really wanted to pay for the three magazines, especially because two of them were for my cousin F.  The shop owner put one hand on his heart and told me to please accept the three magazines, "two of which are my gift to your cousin F, with your kind indulgence, if you please."  (Another reason to love the English... they are just so gracious, and accommodating beyond words.)

We drove to the Westonbirt Arboretum.... hundreds and hundreds of acres filled with one man's collection of trees. Nothing but green, green, green at that time of the year, and honestly, we could have been walking anywhere at all. There was nothing in that arboretum that was screaming "You're in England! England!"  I asked my husband to take the shorter route instead of the long walk, enabling us to not take too much time in that particular park.

And then... back to Bath we drove.... to a different B&B than we had stayed in when we first arrived in Bath the previous week. Once again, our GPS thing in the car didn't pin-point the location of the B&B home and we asked at least a dozen people for directions. Some knew the street we were looking for, others didn't, but all of the English people we spoke to thanked us for stopping them to ask directions. Imagine that... they were thanking us for choosing them to give us directions. You've got to love the British for their exquisite manners!

We finally found the B&B, tucked into a quiet no-outlet street near Victoria Park. The home owner was a very friendly and artistically talented woman whose home was filled with her colorful paintings. We spent some time talking to her that evening, and by the end of our stay, it was as if we'd known each other for years. When I commented on her portrait of a young woman that was hanging in the bedroom my husband and I would sleep in, she offered to paint another canvas for me... "the same girl, the same colors, the same everything."  In the morning, the three of us took photos together and exchanged eMail addresses, and S has already sent me an eMail to tell me that she has started on my painting. She said she will roll it up and ship it to me in a sturdy mailing tube.

After breakfast that morning, my husband and I started the drive into London.... we had planned to return the rental car in the afternoon because our flight was in the morning of the next day. But first, we had a few last things to do in London...