Barbara and Tom: Jul 20, 2014

The Swedes had gone, the Scots had pulled ahead. We were alone again. But then we made new friends. That's the way with the walk. The hardships and fun of The Way make comrades of us all.

One of our new friends is a woman who sent her husband and children back to Canada and is walking from about the half-way point to Bath by herself. She says she gets lost a lot. Join the crowd, I said.

Two of our other new friends are Brits who are sort of on the same itinerary as we are. There was one lone bench on the 13-mile walk between Wotten-Under-Edge and Old Sodbury. They were on it when we walked by. Genially, they offered to share the bench. But I knew that if I sat down, it would take a crowbar to get me going again. They passed us soon after, but we caught them in Little Sodbury.

Don't you love the names of these towns. By the way, it's Wotten-Under-Edge, not "on edge," as if it were a place for tense people to go. And Wotten is pronounced "Woo-en," with the "t" swallowed. And Cirencester is pronounced "Sear-en-ster." And Frocester is pronounced "Froster." Now you know.

As far as we can tell, there aren't many of us on the walk. We don't meet people the way we did on the Coast-to-Coast. They'd probably be dropping like flies because it has been so hot and humid. One barfly told me that this was very unusual weather; it's usually in the 70s and raining. So which would I prefer? Very, very hard to say.

A little ways into today's walk, Tom said, "See that hill?" Gulp. "For some reason we go by it but not up it." Ha, ha, Cave. LOL.

That's not to say there weren't ups and downs. There was a steep but short climb up at the beginning and a long, long, long walk down that followed. I think we are sinking lower into the valley. There have been gentle, long ups, but not as many as there were downs. It's hotter in the valley. Is there a hill I can climb for a fresh breeze?

Our change in elevation might also have to do with our seeing and hearing more birds and bees. The bees are busy in the blackberry hedgerows. The birds warn each other of our coming. The rooster just can't figure out if he's coming or going.

After seeing so many pigs and cows and horses, you would think we'd be able to tell them apart. We saw some spotted somethings. I thought they were goats. Tom said they were cows. Cows? They're little, I said. Then they're giraffe cows, he insisted. City boy.

After about a mile's walk out of Wotten, we were perched high above the town and could hear the Sunday bells ringing away. The day was full of mostly flat wide paths. This one was dirt that turned into a rocky road. It was quiet, except for the bells, and the sun was getting ready to blister us. There was no one else around. Until ... here came two runners (!) heading towards us. A cyclist behind us started laughing. We all hit the same point in the path at the same time. Right behind the runners were two MORE runners. A veritable traffic jam. After that, nary a soul crossed our path for quite a while.

Because the hike was 13 miles long, we passed through all kinds of forest and farmland, but there were stretches, unlike on the other days, when the way was wide, even, and flat. That contrasted with the couple of times that The Way was lost in tall grass and we found ourselves hacking our way forward. There were lots of open fields, too. I wasn't afraid of lightning striking me today, so there was no dashing for cover (that probably would have gotten me struck by lightning faster).

The view from the window this morning. Yikes!

The fog lifted and we saw this cute cottage on the way out of town.

I like this because it's the "Katherine Lady Berkeley Mews." How'd you like to have that as your address?

There's a pollen-coated bee in one of the hollyhocks. The orange flower is a weed, I think, but it's pretty. The clematis surrounding the morning glory is drooping badly. I have no idea what that last thing is.