Apparently the meaning of the Cotswolds is a place far, far away with scones, jam and cream. After a good drive (good drive in England is not wrecking the hire car), we (me, Annette, Claire and Jeremy) and about 20,000 other people, visited a place starting with B with a small stream and lots of old buildings (Editor's note: Bourton-on-the-water).
From there, Google maps tried to kill us through tiny roads, a local was upset with my parking, but there were more old cottages.......so I'm told. I was car sitting.
Then it was in search of the elusive, yet over abundant, scones. She came, she saw, she ate.
Then we, and the 20,000 other people, headed back to London, slowly.
With trains still stuffed due to trackwork, we decided to find an overnight parking spot in a nearby street instead of returning the car (not due back until 9am).
From there, Google maps tried to kill us through tiny roads, a local was upset with my parking, but there were more old cottages.......so I'm told. I was car sitting.
Then we, and the 20,000 other people, headed back to London, slowly.
With trains still stuffed due to trackwork, we decided to find an overnight parking spot in a nearby street instead of returning the car (not due back until 9am).
Chilli noodles to go with the chilli con carne I had for lunch (we had a nice lunch at the first place starting with B) was dinner for me. Goodbye constipation.
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