June 22, Cheltenham to Winchcombe

 Today I had a choice: have a taxi take me to the place I left off and continue from there or do a variant through Cheltenham.  I chose the latter.  It was a lovely walk.

Near the racecourse, on the way out of town, I saw the tidiest display of garbage ever:

    

All the way out of town there were sheep:

Also cows, but why are they eating the hay out of a trough when there is a whole big beautiful field in which to graze?

One left the food bin to come and say hello, and maybe lament his sorrowful condition:

Something is definitely amiss with the grammar here:

So the choice is you feed them...if you don't they will bite?

This is Cleeve Common:

Well, a tiny bit of it.  Cleeve Common is a large grassy area, so large that a golf course takes up only a part of it, and it is easy to get lost trying to stay on the correct trail.  It would be an absolute misery to do this section in the rain or in high winds.

This is Belas Knap a site that is famous but I have to admit I can't get too excited about it:

    As I passed through a gate I saw a couple coming down a hill toward said gate.  One called out, "Do you know where the Cotswold Way is?"  "You are just about on it," I replied.  "But why are you coming from that direction?" (They were off by 90 degrees.) "We got lost."  "Oh."  Hearing their American accents, I asked, "Where are you from?" "DC."   "Just curious, what do you use for navigation?"  "Nothing.  I don't know how to use any of those things," said the man.  "Oh." I was thinking, "Are they every going to get lost on Cleeve Common."  And I was hoping he did not have a government job.  Of course, that I was helping someone with directions is almost too funny  to be true.

   

Always get out of the way of the big guys:

    Lots of frustration on arrival in Winchcombe.  In order not to belabor the matter, let us just say that the White Hart screwed up my reservation.  They finally found me a room at the Plaisterers Inn, down the street.  It is way closer to a dump than the hotel in Birdlip, not that the White Hart was exactly a palace. Aside from super dreary, and a stale smell of grease, there are barking dogs, lots of traffic and only one tiny towel in the bathroom. Shower has two temperature options: freezing cold or boiling hot. And you know what?  It wasn't even that cheap!  Noise canceling headphones necessary tonight.  Then I could not get a taxi to pick up and deliver my suitcase tomorrow.  Either no one can or no one wants to.  Had to call taxi from Cheltenham which is like calling a taxi from New Haven when you live in Guilford to take you to Clinton.  Will probably have to do the same for the next transfer.