“I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers.” – Blanche DuBois, A Streetcar Named Desire (Williams)
This was the absolute toughest day of my journey thus far. My travels took me from Norwich in the Norfolk County (east) to Blockley in Gloucestershire (west). By car, it would take 3 1/2 hours. By rail, it took a little over 7 hours from the time I left the Norwich station to the time I arrived via bus to Blockley Village Green. Jiminy Crickets! Had I known all the transfers, lack of lifts, all the stairs, city streets and Cotswold gravel pathways I’d be tackling, I would’ve only packed a backpack! Props to Samsonite for building quality material, because my little carry on got a major workout today. (Not to mention my arms. I mean, A LOT of steps.)
Transfer between Norwich and London Liverpool Street Station was the most relaxed of the journey. Had I known this, I would’ve tried to nap a bit. Hindsight, huh?
Hitting London threw me for a loop. There are LOADS of apps that “help” with travel in the UK – where you can pre-purchase tickets, follow your route, etc. I’ve bounced back and forth between Rome2Rio and Omio. Great! Everything right there…EXCEPT when there’s a bridge out somewhere that’s caused major rerouting of many of the metro London lines. So, thanks to Mim’s tip about acting like the little lost Southern girl, every time I’d get to a station barrier, I would always claim ignorance and ask. Sure, I had to walk probably the distance between Georgetown and Sadieville to get from point A to point B and hike up and down two Aztec pyramids…I MADE IT. But barely. It was every “runs to the train as it’s getting ready to pull away from the station” scene you’ve ever seen in movies.
Finally, the last train pulls into Moreton-in-Marsh, the nearest station to my BnB. No problem! I was here. Just needed a taxi. (Cue great British farce music here.) No taxis. Anywhere. I tried calling, even Paul (bless him) tried calling, then I bond with a lady from Canada and a guy from Brazil – all of us trying to find a bloody taxi! No luck. The three of us finally decide to try a bus. Good news! Bus service is running. Bad news! There’s only one bus left for the day…and it didn’t leave for another hour.
Well, in that time, we all got to know each other. Ms. Canada was here to hike the Cotswold Way. Mr. Brazil is a head chef who has a home in the Cotswold (his wife is from Norwich and they live in London). Then, along comes Roger – he is the kindest soul and surely an angel sent by God. Roger has his PhD in geology, is retired but still leads hiking expeditions in Cornwall and just finished hiking through Alaska and Vancouver. Weren’t we a happy band of travelers!
Roger told me to just stick with him once we got on the bus and I did as I was told! As the bus was rambling down the small, country Cotswold road, Roger was giving us a narrated tour and pointing out important landforms and historic sites (like the Roman Road known as Fosse Way).
I wished my Canadian and Brazilian friends safe travels and hopped off the bus with Roger near the church in Blockley. His wife met us and instantly offered to help me located my BnB. I really feel like this is why so many great BBC shows take place in this area – the people! Of course, usually one of them gets murdered, but that’s beside the point.
So, now here I am at Southcot Cottage under the watchful care of Ms. June Ellen, retired dance instructor. Now, she is definitely a book character! We enjoyed a lovely chat out in her garden talking about music, theatre and her family – her dancer daughter (who’s appeared both in West End and on Broadway) and her grandson who is now a principal dancer with the Munich Ballet. Not bad. Oh, did I mention that Adele’s producer lives next door? NBD
No list rundown tonight, but here are some pictures. (Side note: when you travel to the UK, bring antacids because you’ll need them with all the food.)
Alyventures 