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There And Back Again… Again

I’m all out of ideas today, a situation that often occurs with the combination of rushing round a holiday home to make sure you packed everything and the blazing heat of the finally-arrived British Spring-Summer. As such I’ve chosen to use the same title I did for one of my previous holiday posts.

Our last-minute booking for a short break sounded like a very good idea on paper, but in reality it turned out to be even better. We may not have had much time to do anything, but we had focused our efforts on finding somewhere unremarkable to stay anyway, so that when the time came to leave we wouldn’t feel we had missed out. And I don’t think we did. We didn’t realise how utterly beautiful the landscape would be and it is so good that viewing the country is something you can do at ease with a car. Our host said that she hoped we felt relaxed as that was her goal for the accommodation. I believe we are feeling very refreshed, I for my upcoming exams and the plans I have for the reopening of my personal blog, and my boyfriend for the changes about to come his way.

Highlights included:

  • Splinters – old wooden staircases are difficult to ascend at the best of times, but more so when the wood is rough.
  • Spiders – where there is history there are creepy crawlies.
  • Drives to the peaks of hills only to find the view obscured by trees – unless you want to trespass on private land and we didn’t.
  • Green tea spillages – make sure you remind your boyfriend every minute that you are holding a cup of tea whilst sitting beside him so that there is no chance he’ll get up too quickly and send it flying.

The lowlights were:

  • The most perfect little cottage with an even more perfect bedroom and garden. The bedroom was my dream room realised.
  • Visiting the ruins of a medieval castle and being able to sit at a window in the somewhat fallen great hall, in solitude. To be able to sit somewhere where others would have sat, and to be able to still see the wall sconces and be surrounded by four almost-perfect walls, in a position to really imagine the celebrations that would have happened right there, 700 years ago, is so magical. The feeling is impossible to describe. I thank my boyfriend for letting me sit there for a good few minutes and apologise for any illusions I may have created of handsome chivalrous knights – but then when you find out the castle is one that was owned by the main characters in the novel you are currently reading, everything feels very personal. Yes, I’m reading another Elizabeth Chadwick, and I’ve just walked the grounds of one of William Marshall’s properties.
  • Walking amongst the flowers together taking macro shots.

If life worked out the way you hope it does, we wouldn’t have had this opportunity, so in this case, a negative revealed itself to be a positive in disguise. There will hopefully be photographs to follow.


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