End of the Way

Hill Farm to Bath

Hill farm is actually a mile out of Cold Ashton proper and right on the Cotswold Way. After breakfast, we said goodbye to Lucy and just walked across the driveway and down the hill.

We liked Hill Farm. It was quirky, with Meg and I having single beds in The Trough, while Jan and Bruce had a trundle bed in the shepherds hut. Lucy was thoughtful, and the view was great.
We talked some about the places we stayed.
Meg liked this one about the best.
Jan said she preferred the B & Bs to the Inns.
I liked that we had some variety.
Meg noted the Dog Inn was about the cleanest we stayed at.
Bruce said none of them were actually dirty, just run down, which he expected.
The Volunteer Inn was the most run down, and the most like a real neighborhood bar, that happened to have an Indian restaurant, and rooms, attached.

Our way was briefly down then sharply up. After about an hour we were walking across the ridge and regularly passing markers to do with the battle of Lansdowne and the death of Sir Bevil Grenville.

One of our B & B hosts earlier commented that “of course, this isn’t the historical part of the country,” an idea Bruce has returned to in amazement. One aspect of British history that is all over this area is the civil war of the mid 1600s.

Later in the day, as we hit the outskirts of Bath, we passed a church completed in 1832. That didn’t seem historical at all, compared to buildings we’ve seen every day. But it had a tower built in the 15th century.

Seven miles along and approaching 11:30 we walked right past the first pub, expecting another any time. Then the Way took a wicked uphill swing to get into green space, so we didn’t get to another for half an hour.

We had a half and walked on.
Soon we found another we could eat in.
Rejuvenated by lunch, we forged on. Three blocks and there are the Roman Baths. Turning and walking across the courtyard, we stepped onto the finish stone.

Done.

Then it was find the bank, find the hotel with our bags, find the AirBnB.

And now, Bath. No trekking required (Note on September 13: this is the funniest sentence in this entire blog -- see the next post).

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