First day of walking

Chipping Campden to Stanton

Beautiful full moon around 7:00 in Chipping Campden.

After eating a decent breakfast & connecting with the luggage transfer guy, we set out.

100 steps up the lane, I had to run back to leave the room key on the bar.
We climbed Dover Hill, initially up a lane, then a gradually deteriorating path, eventually just a worn streak in the field.
Dover Hill is the site of the Cotswold Olimpick Games. Here’s some of Wikipedia‘s description:
“The Cotswold Olimpick Games is an annual public celebration of games and sports now held on the Friday after Spring Bank Holiday near Chipping Campden, in the Cotswolds of England. The Games probably began in 1612, and have continued on and off to the present day.
“ Since 1966 the Games have been held each year on the Friday after Spring Bank Holiday. Events have included the tug of war, gymkhana, shin-kicking, dwile flonking, motorcycle scrambling, judo, piano smashing, and morris dancing.”
I had to know what dwile flonking is, and you do too. Here it is:
“The English game of dwile flonking (also dwyle flunking) is an East Anglian pub sport[1], involving two teams of twelve players,[2] each taking a turn to dance around the other while attempting to avoid a beer-soaked dwile (cloth) thrown by the non-dancing team.[3][4]
"Dwile" is a knitted floor cloth, from the Dutch dweil, meaning "mop",[5] and "flonk" is probably a corruption of flong, an old past tense of fling.[6]”

This toposcope was moved to a location where you can't see the view it is pointing out.

We stopped for coffee at the Broadway Tower café, but did not pay to climb the tower.
Soon we were in the village, where we stopped in a deli to buy food, still too early for lunch.
We had an intriguing report that Snowshill Manor was worth a detour. The views on the way there were panoramic, the gates and stiles eccentricly varied. Eventually we sat in a hillside pasture, dodging sheep dung and nettles, and had lunch.

At Snowshill, circumstances made visiting the manor unappealing. Instead we had a pint at the pub.

The alternate route to Stanton was mainly a long downhill farm lane.
We came in past the Mount, where we are soon to dine, and searched out Shenberrow Hill, where we were greeted by Captain Pip, and welcomed by the accommodating Angela.