Halcyon Days

What with my return to the rat race and the preparations for next week's flea market, I'm the first to admit that my travelogue is proceeding at a snail's pace. My mind boggles at the fact that it is now well over two weeks since we've waved the cowshed goodbye! No fear of our holiday receding into the mists of time any time soon though. Courtesy of the just under a thousand photographs I've taken and the effort I made to scribble a couple of lines into my dairy in the evenings, I'm able to relive it all, one perfect day at a time.

But time marches on relentlessly, and it's almost beyond belief that in just a couple of days it will be one whole month ago since we drove through the gates of Stonecroft, Vix and Jon's wonderfully eclectic home in Walsall, on Wednesday the 12th of June.  And before I go any further, let me tell you that their home is every bit as gorgeous as it looks on her blog, and more!

Here Vix and I are posing in their garden, with the famous Kinky shed in the background, at the end of an absolutely fabulous day.  Even the weather gods were on their best behaviour, with lots of sunny spells and - gasp! - highs of 17°C.

I'd been keen to visit the upcoming Victorian Radicals exhibition in Birmingham ever since I read about it at the end of last year, and Vix's posts about her visits (here and here) had whetted my appetite even further.  However, as we weren't all too keen to drive into Birmingham, there were some logistics to sort out first. In the end, we proposed to drive over to Walsall - about an hour and a half from the cowshed - and take the X51 bus into Birmingham as mentioned by Vix on her blog.

So, that was exactly what we did and, after a catch-up over coffee and making the acquaintance of the handsome William, we walked over to the bus stop and hopped onto the fairly crowded bus for the 25 minutes or so drive into Brum.

Here, our guides swiftly walked us through the hubbub of Birmingham's city centre to Victoria Square, where they introduced us to Antony Gormley's Iron:Man and the Floozie in the Jacuzzi, whose official name is The River, by Dhruva Mistry, apparently one of the largest fountains in Europe.

Walking around the corner to the Gas Hall's entrance, we obliged Vix by posing for the obligatory photo in front of the Victorian Radicals billboard.

I'm shamelessly quoting the museum's introduction to the exhibition on their website, to give you an idea of what the exhibition is about.

Three generations of British artists, designers and makers revolutionised the visual arts in the second half of the nineteenth century. The Pre-Raphaelites, William Morris and his circle and the men and women of the Arts and Crafts movement transformed art and design.

Selected from the city of Birmingham's outstanding collection, Victorian Radicals presents vibrant paintings and exquisite drawings alongside jewellery, glass, textiles and metalwork to explore their radical vision for art and society.

Suffice to say that it was far too much to take in during one single visit. In fact, I was so overwhelmed that I didn't take nearly enough photos. Here are just a handful of the things that caught my eye.

Above, clockwise from top left: portrait of Dante Gabriel Rossetti - doesn't he have the most mesmerizing eyes? - by William Holman Hunt (c.1882), a selection of tiles designed ca.1863 by Edward Burne-Jones and William Morris, La Donna della Finestra by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1881), and Sigismonda Drinking the Poison by Joseph Edward Southall (1897).

I wouldn't have minded taking these embroidered purses and stunning jewellery home with me, although I think I might have had to share the latter with Vix.

Continuing with the favourites, below, from left: Beate Beatrix by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (completed by Ford Maddox Brown, 1877), Morgan le Fay by Frederick Sandys (1864) and A Young Woman Holding a Rose by Emma Sandys (1870-72).

Flanking Vix with her fabulous Pre-Raphaelite style hair are two stunning paintings by Kate Elizabeth Bunce ( (1858–1927), an English painter and poet, whose work falls somewhere between the Pre-Raphaelites and the Arts & Crafts movement. She was also a lecturer at Birmingham College of Art. 

On the left: Musica (1895), which you might recognize from the exhibition poster, and on the right: The Keepsake (1901). Apparently, the latter is based on a poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, called The Staff and Scrip:

'Then stepped a damsel to her side,

And spoke and needs must weep:

'For his sake, lady, if he died,

He prayed of thee to keep

This staff and scrip.'

Below, on the right is a Morris & Co. stained glass panel depicting St Mark the Evangelist, designed by Edward Burne-Jones for Merton Abbey, London (1883). On the left is a rare survival of a full-sized cartoon - using an oil painting rather than the more usual charcoal and wash drawing on paper - by Burne-Jones (1859) for a window depicting the Annunciation.

Below, clockwise from top left: lead glass flask (ca. 1870) by Thomas and Elijah Barnes, Choosing the Red and White Roses in the Temple Gardens by Henry Albert Payne (1908-10), Fiammetta (Georgie Gaskin) by Arthur Joseph Gaskin (1898), Hope comforting Love in Bondage (1901) by Sydney Harold Meteyard, Victorian gown made from William Morris fabric, originally intended for upholstery and, finally, Vix and yours truly admiring the stunning Beate Beatrix! 

Although the first edition had long been sold out, we were thrilled to see that the exhibition catalogue was available once more, so that we wasted no time in purchasing one of these hefty volumes, which Jos carried around in an appropriate Victorian Radicals canvas bag.

Meanwhile, a mirror selfie revealed that I'm shorter than Vix! And that's Jon photobombing Vix and Jos in the snapshot on the left!

It was well past midday and our stomachs were definitely rumbling by now. Guided by Vix, we made our way to the New Street branch of Medicine, a bakery, café and art gallery established on the first floor of the building which was previously home to the Royal Society of Birmingham Artists. 

Hunger pangs sated, we walked around the corner to the cathedral to admire the William Morris and Edward Burne-Jones stained glass windows. 

They were installed in 1885-87 and 1898 and depict the Ascension, the Nativity, the Crucifixion and the Last Judgement. 

Then it was back to the bus stop, where we had a bit of a wait until the X51 to Walsall rolled along. We finished the day with welcome cups of coffee, a tour of Stonecroft and, best of all, a peek inside the Kinky Melon tent. And exchanging gifts, obviously.

We were treated to handmade fabric tote bags full of goodies. 

Jos received a couple of naughty 1950s magazines, a Tala curry measure, a vintage Tala icing set, a fancy tea towel and two shirts, both of which he already wore during our holiday. 

My tote bag was filled with a gorgeous dress suit, two pairs of Snag tights - very welcome for these under par temperatures - two pots of Body Shop British Rose body butters and a handful of Ethiopian Honey face masks. When we met up a couple of days later, Vix also gave me a pot of Body Shop lip balm and Luckenbooth by Jenni Fagan, which is currently awaiting its turn in my TBR pile.

All too soon, it was time to say goodbye - although not for long! - and return to the cowshed. I wish I could say our return journey was uneventful but unfortunately road works and an unexpected road closure threw some spanners in the works. Needless to say that we were exhausted when we finally made it home.

We'd already made the decision to stay closer to home on Thursday, but it was the weather forecast for rain, wind and decidedly unsummery temperatures of 10°C which cinched the deal and saw us driving down to Attingham Park. Involving a drive of just over half an hour, this National Trust owned property has a Georgian mansion at its heart which is well worth a (re)visit.

As we'd slept in a bit longer and had taken our time over breakfast and getting ready, the morning was already quite advanced when we finally trundled up its long drive. I won't mention the fact that by then we'd taken a wrong turn twice and that our silly Satnav tried to take us to the exit rather than the entrance.

Upon arrival, we took refuge inside the extensive second-hand bookshop, where I serendipitously stumbled upon the Edward Burn-Jones tone. Four Hundred Years of Fashion, based on the V&A's world famous collection, also came home with me. Then it was up to the café for lunch, where I had a ham and smoked cheddar turnover, while Jos enjoyed his first jacket potato of the holiday.

Emerging from the café, we were dismayed to find that it had got even colder and, as the first drops of the forecasted rain were starting to fall, we ditched our plans to walk down to the walled garden.

Making our way towards the mansion, we were once again shivering in spite of wearing plenty of layers, in my case including a jumper and a cardigan. The volunteers inside the Entrance Hall (above, top right) had even closed the door to keep out the chill. 

There's a degree of trickery going on here, as the Entrance Hall is decorated with fake marble pillars and mock alcoves designed to look like three dimensional ones housing classical sculptures. The fireplace is topped with a bust of William Pitt the Younger, who was Prime Minister from 1783-1806, and who created the title Lord Berwick.

From here, we wandered from room to room, trying to keep one step ahead of a group who'd entered the mansion with us, some of whose members insisted on ruining the photos I was trying to make. Needless to say, much grumbling ensued, and there was nothing for it but to keep to details when my patience finally ran out.

Nevertheless, we spent an inordinate amount of time in the Picture Gallery until it was empty of the people who were milling about here. As apparently they were waiting for the guided tour of the private two-storey apartment in the East Wing, we could somewhat relate. The scene of last year's blogger meet-up, we'd done our fair bit of waiting around for our tardy tour guide back then.

When Thomas Hill, the second Lord Berwick, inherited Attingham Park in 1789, he also inherited a substantial fortune. As was the custom at the time, Thomas took part in the Grand Tour - a tour of Europe and Italy in particular - during which he purchased a great number of paintings and sculptures. As he needed a place to house his collection, he commissioned the architect John Nash to add the picture gallery in 1805. Nash's pièce de resistance was the sumptuous Grand Staircase (above, bottom right).

After touring the ground floor, it was time to descend to the servants' quarters "below stairs", where the kitchen, butler’s pantry, and servants’ hall can be visited.

Cook had just finished a batch of mince pies and surreptitiously dashed from the kitchen to get her mobile phone to take a photograph. Not surprisingly, she strictly forbade us to take a photo of her doing so ...

As there still wasn't any improvement in the weather when we left the mansion, we decided to have a cup of cappuccino and some shortbread and then call it a day.

By the time we'd stopped for a food shop at a supermarket in Church Stretton, it had begun to rain in earnest, and we'd barely made it inside the cowshed before all hell broke loose and we were treated to a veritable storm.

I'm happy to say that, although temperatures continued to be up and down, we didn't have a repeat of Thursday's atrocious weather. 

I'll be back with more later this week. Hope to see you again then!

One day like this a year would see me right

Hello, and welcome to episode # 3 of this year's Shropshire travelogue. 

It was Thursday the 15th of June, and we had a Date with a capital D. It had been pencilled into our diary for many weeks: a long overdue meet-up with my blogging friends Vix and Claire and their partners, Jon and Gareth.

As we wanted to make sure to have plenty of time to get ready and drive down to our destination, we'd even set our alarm clocks the night before, but I'm sure you won't be surprised if I tell you we were wide awake long before it went off!

Our destination that day was yet another National Trust property, Attingham Park, the Georgian Mansion commissioned in 1782 for Noel Hill, 1st Lord Berwick. 

Although it's only a leisurely drive of about 40 minutes from the cowshed, we took our precautions and left our little valley a full hour before the agreed meet-up time of 10.30. Well, we did have to take traffic, our Satnav's foibles and our tendency to drive past the entrance (which we did back in 2018, see here) into account. We needn't have feared, though, as it all went smoothly and we were in fact the first ones to arrive.

Soon, Vix and Jon rocked up in Patrice, their Lucifer Red Citroën C5, excitedly honking and waving when they saw us waiting in a shady spot near the entrance. Needless to say, lots of hugging ensued. Claire had WhatsApp'd me to say they were running a bit late, and about 10 minutes later she and Gareth trundled up the drive in their funky red Beetle. Just like it was when I first met Vix all those years ago, it was as if Claire and I had known each other for years!

As all of us were National Trust members - even if just temporary ones in our case - we were soon waved through at the ticket office. However, we decided to splurge and pay an extra € 3 per person for an exclusive tour of a two-storey apartment in the East Wing of the Mansion. 

As we had been booked in for the 12 pm tour, that left plenty of time for lots of chatting and having our photo taken by the paparazzi.

Plenty of time, too, for a stroll to the walled gardens ... until we remembered that it is quite a long way from the house and that we would never make it back on time. So, back we hurried, following the lead of Jon and Gareth who seemed to be knowing their way around. With just minutes to spare we arrived at what turned out to be the Mansion's exit. Fortunately, a kindly volunteer took pity on us and swiftly took us to the Picture Gallery where the tour was supposed to start.

Bawled over by the Picture Gallery's splendour, we admired the paintings lining the glossy red walls  - there was even one of the Picture Gallery itself, above, top right - as well as the other treasures on display, until we realized that 12 pm had come and gone and our tour guide was still conspicuous in his absence. 

So, we waited and waited, and waited some more, each of us in our own fashion. The photo on the bottom right in the above collage, in particular, made me smile. In the background, Vix is admiring the magnificent 18th Century organ at the east end of the gallery, while Claire is just about to take this stunning photo of her. To the left of them, Gareth is doing some kind of silly pose. On the plush green seat in the foreground, Jos is trying to get to grips with the info on the tickets, while Jon, the only one who was aware that I was taking a photo, is looking straight at the camera.

John Nash was commissioned in 1805 to add the picture gallery, a project that was flawed from the beginning as it suffered from leaks. Constructed using cast iron and curved glass to give the effect of coving, it throws light into the gallery below.  In 2013 work began on building a new protective roof above the delicate Nash roof, replacing the one installed in the 1970s with a new one which will stop leakage and reduce natural weather wear. 

Nash’s elaborately contrived Grand Staircase sparkles with a sense of Regency theatre, the domed skylight like a giant golden spider’s web hovering above.

I'm shamelessly repeating my own collage, created from photos taking during our 2019 visit here.

Meanwhile, more waiting ensued until our guide finally arrived, apologizing profusely for being late  before taking us up the Grand Staircase and to the private apartment. This was once used by Teresa, 8th Lady Berwick (1890-1972) and more recently by the late Mr Edwin D. Cohen, a retired American stockbroker and collector of all things Georgian, who lived here from 1986 until his death in 2020.

We soon discovered the reason for our guide's tardiness: he was truly passionate and knowledgeable about his subject - and Attingham in general - and we suspect his previous tour simply overran because of it. 

Photography wasn't allowed inside the apartment so if you want to see it for yourself, you'll have to get yourselves over there and book a tour. Suffice to say that it was fascinating to be allowed a look into a wealthy and avid collector's private quarters.

It was well past 1 pm when we left the house and made our way towards the Carriage House café for lunch, still reeling from the experience and blinking in the early afternoon sunlight.

It was another scorcher of a day, with temperatures easily reaching 26°C, and the heat trapped inside the walled garden made it feel even warmer.

The flower borders are looking their best at this time of year, attracting bees and butterflies with their vibrant colour and sweet scent. My favourite, which always makes me whip out my camera, is the lavender lined double border, here enhanced by Claire and Vix in their gorgeous pink and green dresses.

I think we all fell in love with the stunning double flowered Oriental Poppy (below, top right) as it got its photograph taken by all three of us girls!

Originally created in the 1780s, Attingham's team of gardeners have been bringing this important part of the estate back to life and production. After falling into disrepair, and having different uses in the 20th Century, the Georgian kitchen garden is both bountiful and a joy to behold today.

Vix snapped this picture of Jos and me. While Jos's outfit included both his new Clarks shoes and his charity shopped Marks & Sparks hat, I was wearing palazzo trousers and a peasant style blouse, both of which were old retail buys. My sandals - old sales bargain Clarks - were making another appearance.

The heat was getting a bit too much by now, so we made our way towards Attingham's two-acre orchard, where Vix and I reclined in a pair of conveniently placed deckchairs under the apple trees.

When Claire sent me the photo she'd taken of us, I told her I would be using it as my screensaver at work, a reminder of this blissful day filled with friendship and laughter.

We then followed the Mile Walk through the Pleasure Grounds under the cooling canopy of the woodland trees. After crossing a cable-stayed bridge over the River Tern, the woodland path continued until it opened up into grassland at the top of the Deer Park.

The heat was relentless here and with the sun burning down on us, another application of suntan lotion was required. Having left mine in the cowshed, I was happy to be able to make use of Claire's. 

Jos snapped the photo of the almost treeless grassland basking in full sunshine under a canopy of blue sky in which cotton wool clouds were drifting (below, top left). If you look carefully, you can see Claire, Vix and me approaching (you might have to enlarge and zoom in to see us). Chatting non-stop, and stopping to take photos, we were forever lagging behind.

Soon the Mansion came into view, and we slowly made our way towards it, crossing another bridge across the River Tern, where the resident cows were having a refreshing drink. 

This made us realize we were getting thirsty too, so we quickened our step in order to get to the Carriage House café before it closed. Turned out we were there just in the nick of time.

It was getting on to 5 pm and they almost had to turf us out by the time we'd reluctantly said our goodbyes. But not before snapping Claire and Vix enjoying an ice lolly!

And exchanging gifts obviously! 

I squealed in delight when I spotted the denim maxi dress Vix and Jon gave me. One of my holy grails, I hadn't yet been able to find what I was looking for, but apparently Vix thought of me as soon as she set eyes on this one. I can't wait for the weather to cool down sufficiently to give it its maiden outing.

Other gifts included a funky red belt, a vinyl Barbie case and - for Jos - a huge bottle of vintage Max Factor after-shave.

Jos was further spoiled with a Ted Baker shirt, a Paisley lined waistcoat and a pair of clip-on sunglasses. We both got books (mine another Philippa Gregory) and I got a gorgeous green zig-zag patterned vintage St. Michael skirt.

Claire and Gareth's gifts included a set of Claire's postcards, a vintage Cadbury Chocolate mug , now in daily use for my morning and evening tea, two bags of local made candy and a green vintage necklace and chunky ring. There were two cans of alcohol-free Guinness as well, but these were already consumed sitting outside on our little terrace at the cowshed.

Later, Claire also surprised me with a vintage Eastex dress and Carlottta Collection skirt. I've already worn the skirt in the meantime, so you'll be getting a much better look at it very soon.

After this one-in-a-million day, we drove back to the cottage in a daze. We spent the evening enjoying the resident wildlife - there were swallow nests aplenty and the area was simply inundated with rabbits - and watching the sun go down over the Long Mynd. Utter bliss!

Hope to see you soon for a catch-up on daily life and further episodes of the travelogue!

To skies that knit our heartstrings right

It's the final installment of my travelogue which, considering our holiday was almost two months ago, isn't a minute too soon. By now, my holiday memories are starting to gather a fine layer of dust, and if I'm not careful they'll slowly recede into the mists of time.

In just under three weeks we'll be going on another adventure, so let's get these ones done and err ... dusted!

I'm covering our final four days here. Too much for one post perhaps, but then again, not enough for two, so let's make a start with Tuesday the 23rd of June.

Once again checking the weather forecast for the day ahead had been a bit of a letdown, offering a mixture of grey skies and the odd shower, not to mention a quite unpleasant wind, accompanying the measly highs of 17°C.

It is quite unheard-of for me to wear a jumper during the Summer months, but that's exactly what I did that day. This mustard yellow honey-comb knit one was a charity shop find earlier this year, while its companion, the groovilicious maxi skirt, was part of my charity shop haul in the weeks before our holiday. I added one of my by now famous chevron belts, pinned a dink butterfly brooch to the jumper and, instead of a necklace, wore a pink, grey and white chiffon scarf at my neck for extra warmth.

Our itinerary for the day couldn't have been more simple: we were off to Shrewsbury to do a spot of shopping, perhaps throwing in some sightseeing if time and weather allowed.

Confidently, we entered the address of the nearest Park and Ride into our car's built-in Satnav, fully expecting her to direct us to the left at the end of our lane, just like her predecessor did in years past.

But no, she was about to ignore the left turn and would have made us drive over the Long Mynd if we'd let her. We turned a blind eye to her instructions and turned left, thinking that we'd made her see sense by doing so. Well, what can I say? We might have averted another scary Long Mynd episode, but she still made us drive up a steep and narrow lane leading to the middle of nowhere. The views were marvellous though, the tiny bump in the horizon being the Wrekin, rising above the Shropshire Plain to a height of 1,335 feet (407 metres) above sea level: a prominent and well-known landmark, 

Having finally, and safely, arrived at the Park and Ride car park, we boarded the bus which was waiting for us. It would be the first time in well over two years since I'd been on a bus, and obviously we wore our masks, even if the majority of our fellow passengers didn't.

After less than 15 minutes, the driver expertly negotiating traffic, we alighted at the Market Square.

From there, we strolled up the High Street, Pride Hill and finally Castle Street, where our first port of call, Marks & Spencer, awaited. After buying underwear and a classy new pair of pyjamas for Jos, we made our way up to the top floor café for lunch.

Afterwards, we followed our noses for a while, exploring the town's maze of lanes and alleys (which go under the name of "shuts") until I declared it was time for a rummage at the charity shops.

While Jos was taking a breather on a bench, I went in and out of the charity shops lining the street called Mardol, where most of them seemed to be concentrated. It's here that I found the denim maxi skirt (below, top right) you could see me wearing in my previous post. I also found a charcoal grey based floral cotton skirt as well as couple of books.

Mission accomplished, our next stop was the Market Hall. 

The three columns with the axe-like heads on the top right are part of the Darwin Gate Artwork. Charles Darwin is without doubt Shrewsbury’s most famous son, who was born here on 12 February 1809.

The Market Hall, which includes a 240 ft (73 metres) clock- tower, an indoor market and a ground-floor shopping centre, was hailed “the most modern building” in Shropshire when it opened in September 1965. Today, the indoor market is thriving, with over 70 small businesses, traditional market stalls selling fresh farm produce standing alongside cosmopolitan cafes, award-winning artisan producers, vintage and antique sellers and a host of quality craft and gift stalls. 

Considered a monstrosity by some, it is only when viewed from above - the photo on the bottom right obviously isn't mine - that its cunning ocean liner shape becomes apparent.

Although the rain had thankfully held off all day, it was a completely different story on Wednesday, when rain would be very much on the menu. In addition, the mercury had now dropped to a decidedly unsummery 15°C. 

After some deliberation, the day's destination was finally settled. We would drive down to Church Stretton which, as the crow flies would take us just under 20 minutes. The problem, however, is that the crow would most definitely fly over the Long Mynd, approximately following the route of the famous Burway, which is something we have been trying to avoid at all cost.

Taking the far less scary detour by way of A and B roads took us about half an hour instead. 

Church Stretton nestles in a wooded valley, its spectacular setting the ideal base from which to explore the Shropshire Hills. The town has a variety of independent shops, traditional tea rooms, pubs and restaurants, plus a unique antiques emporium. And it was the latter, rather than its hill walking opportunities, that made us decide to come here that day.

Crammed with antiques and collectibles, there nevertheless wasn't anything which tempted us to pull out our wallets. Perhaps this was due to the bad news we'd received earlier that day, learning that Vix and Jon had tested positive, so that our planned meeting the next day wouldn't be able to go ahead. We were also due to meet Claire and her husband Gareth at the same time, but as he was still suffering from the aftermath of a cold, and both Jos and I had a mild case of the sniffles - not Covid, thankfully - we decided to cancel our meeting entirely. 

After leaving the antiques emporium, we had a rummage at the town's handful of charity shops, where I managed to find a second denim skirt, which you've already seen me wearing as well.

Lunch - mine was a chili jacket potato - was had at The Bucks Head, where we were served by an overly friendly and visibly nervous waiter, for whom we suspect it was his first day on the job.

Then we headed to St. Laurence's church or, in fact, we made a run for it across the churchyard as it had started raining by then.

The 14th century church with elements of  previous Norman architecture has as rare pagan fertility symbol or sheila-na-gig (above, bottom right) which can be found on the north face of the building over an old Norman doorway.

The sun had come back from her hiding place when we were exploring the churchyard, but such was the fickleness of the weather that once we'd retrieved our walking sticks from the car, she'd gleefully drawn the curtains of grey again. In fact, we'd only put our first steps on the paths of the Capability Brown inspired Rectory Wood when we found our plans thwarted by persistent rain. We just made it to a pool shaded by ancient yews and overlooked by the remains of an old pumping house, where we waited out the rain. 

With forecasted highs of 19°C, it started to feel a bit more like Summer again on Thursday. 

It was the day we were supposed to meet Vix and Claire at Attingham Park, but although the meet-up was cancelled, we still went ahead with what would be our final visit to a National Trust property, clocking up a total of 7 properties using our Touring Pass. Having paid only half of what we would have done without the pass, it had definitely been well worth the original outlay.

As if on cue, the heavens opened just as we were making our way to the Stables Courtyard, so our visit started with a browse in the second hand bookshop and a mooch around the stables.

Part of the Grade I listed mansion, which was built in 1785 for Noel Hill, 1st Baron Berwick, was in scaffolding, and only the basement was open for visits, so we opted to give it a miss. After all, we'd been there twice before, in 2018 and 2019.

Instead, we strolled around the walled garden, admiring its lavender lined borders, which are a haven for bees and butterflies.

Before returning to the Stables Courtyard for lunch, we had a look inside the Bothy, which is where, historically, the unmarried gardeners would have lived.

By a stroke of luck, the rain held off for the rest of the day, and what's more, the sun had come out to play when we set out for a walk after lunch.

I was wearing the maxi dress which I'd shortened especially for the occasion. Now it was just the perfect length to wear with my Cloudsteppers without tripping over its hem. I'd ditched my orange leather jacket by then, but was still wearing one of my King Louie cardies. My stretchy orange belt, orange beaded necklace and green plastic ring completed my outfit.

We'd chosen the 2,5 mile Deer Park walk, its directions instructing you to look closely in the bracken and ferns of the Deer Park, and you might be lucky to spot some of the deer herd.

We never expected to spot any deer at all, so it came as a complete but pleasant surprise when several of them suddenly materialized, seemingly unperturbed by our presence!

That evening, back at the cowshed, we were in for another treat in the form of a magnificent sunset, for which I grabbed my camera and walked up the lane.

Then Friday, our last day, dawned. As if that in itself wasn't bad enough, we were on tenterhooks to receive an email from Eurotunnel that we were OK to travel. Apparently, the French still needed people's vaccination certificates to enter the country, even if like us we would only drive through it for half an hour. We'd duly uploaded our certificates 72 hours before travelling on Wednesday evening, but by Friday morning we still hadn't received an email. 

The weather, mostly cloudy, windy, and punctuated by  a couple of showers, didn't really contribute in lifting our maudlin moods. 

Our original plan had been to return to Shrewsbury, but we decided to give the town a miss and revisit a magical garden we'd discovered back in 2019. Glansevern Hall Garden lies on the banks of the River Severn in Mid Wales, near the lovely little town of Montgomery.

Apparently, a lot had happened in the three years since we were last there. In 2020, the estate was purchased by Naissance, a company which sources, manufactures and supplies natural and organic oils, butters, raw ingredients and skincare products.

The somewhat neglected gardens are currently being restored to their former glory and thus there is no admission charge as such, although people are free to make a donation.  

The gardens were still a joy to explore, with its follies and hidden corners, although some areas seemed to be closed off, which made finding our way to the Lakeside Walk, which circumnavigates the lake and leads you past the Island and its Iron Gazebo, a bit of an enigma. And no, it wasn't our knack for getting lost which was at play here, as apparently other people were having the same problem.

We concluded our visit at the on-site café where we had the one and only cream tea of our holiday. 

I'm sure it would have tasted a lot better, though, if we hadn't been totally stressed out by Eurotunnel's lack of response.

We kept checking our emails and logging into our account all through the evening and at the crack of dawn the next morning, and still nothing! It was only when we'd stopped at one of the services on the motorway later that morning that our account showed the green check we needed to travel. We never got an email at all.  What's more, when we asked at the Flexiplus lounge at the terminal what would have happened if we hadn't received the all clear, the steward replied that he had absolutely no idea.

So, that was it, our first UK holiday in three years over in the blink of an eye.

It'll be business as usual, whatever that is, in my next posts, but for now, I am leaving you with a photo of me looking wistful and having a serious case of the last day of the holidays blues!