Day 8: Cold Ashton to Bath

Weather:   Cloudy and cool

Distance covered today: 16.4km ( 10.2 mi)

Last night’s B&B: Labernum Cottage (£43)

% Complete:   106.5%

GPS satellite track of today’s route: Day 8 (click!)

Cumulative climb and descent: 25,223ft & 25,028ft

It wasn’t unexpected, but I had the same odd feeling today as I experienced last year as I closed in on John O’Groats; not with the same intensity, granted, but it was there nevertheless.  It is a strange zen-like equanimity born of the tension between elation at finishing the task and regret that a fantastic experience is ending.  Then as now, Veronica will be there to pick up the pieces (she should be arriving as I tickle these keys), and it will be lovely to see her, after admittedly a much shorter parting.  Even the weather has continued to cooperate.  Last night was a little chilly, appropriately enough in Cold Ashton, but our luck continued right to the end today.

Given that the local pub has closed, we had to walk to Folly Farm for supper, a slightly hazardous venture down a busy A-road, but it was worth it. There we met Sarah, mother of six, and an island of calm in a sea of chaos. Folly Farm isn’t really a farm; it’s a magical mystery tour. On the way in, we passed every conceivable animal. Old MacDonald would have been in his element! There were ducks and geese, pigs and dogs, cocks and hens, a giant, kindly, old cob (an armchair, according to Sarah) and a thirty-five year old pony-club pony. Sarah’s mother dropped in during our dinner, as did her sister. He husband called by briefly as well, but mostly we were entertained by her nine year-old son, who was trying to persuade his mother that he was famished and deserved something unhealthy to eat.  He was offered fruit and repeatedly demurred, disappeared off somewhere, only to return for another go later.

Sarah assured us that she and her husband had not specifically continued procreating until they got a son, but they decided anyway that they were going to stop when number six arrived. Meanwhile most of the daughters were somewhere around the great splattering of buildings. There seemed to be dozens of cars around, with people doing all sorts of extraordinary things; there was some sort of ratting expedition in process at the end of the yard. A nineteen year-old daughter had half-a-dozen friends around because there is a barn conversion that serves as a disco. Those were the activities we were told about. Goodness knows what else was going on.

Through all this, Sarah made us dinner, pre-ordered from a special menu sent to us by email. She runs the café as a side-line, supplying walkers on the Cotswold Way and whatever passing trade she can attract. How she has time to do all this amongst all her other daily duties, I do not know. She even gave us a lift back to our B&B in her ancient and alarmingly rattly land-rover.  It’s hard to understand how they make a go of it and I’m fairly sure the finances are wobbly, but I’m equally sure that a number of happy and well-adjusted young adults will emerge from that establishment.

Talking to Sarah did though, make me reflect on the difference between walking alone and in company. With an extrovert like her, there was absolutely no difficulty making conversation, but it remains true that when one is on one’s own it is far easier to open and sustain conversations with strangers than when one is in a group. Alone, the conversations can be quite serious, whereas in a group, they are likely to be jovial. But there is no doubting that walking with John and Yasmin been just enormous fun.

Looking back, is there anything I would have done differently, were I to do it again?  One issue is whether it is better to walk North to South or the other way round. There is certainly an argument that South to North would have meant that one would have experienced the exquisitely pristine Cotswold villages progressively; a sense of moving slowly into wonderland.  Also, the higher hills would have been experienced further into the walk. The prevailing wind would have been from behind, as would the sun. All good reasons, but not enough to persuade Yasmin, who says she really enjoyed the process of experiencing the sudden impact of pure Cotswold to start with, followed by a gradual retreat to normality, (if Bath can be considered normal?).

The length of each section was about right, though one or two days did test the limits. If I were to do it again, I might take one extra day, if only because it might have allowed us to spend more time along the way appreciating some of the more obscure wonders of the Way. Otherwise, I wouldn’t change a thing!  And I would highly recommend the Cotswold Way to anyone with a week to spare.

Thank you for coming along for the ride!  I do hope to catch you next year for more of the same!

A fine Elizabethan manor house in Cold Ashton

Enjoying the soft rolling landscape for the last time on this trip

A final lamb for Phyllis!

Urban Britain returns. That’s Bristol in the distance

Acres of PV for Julian

Approaching Bath. It seems that wode is back in fashion!

An amazing treescape in Bath

Finally, the Royal Crescent comes into view

And the Circus, designed by John Wood the Elder

Veronica joined us for a celebratory meal. We felt great!