When planning our trip, I was determined to include as many National Trails as feasible. However, once we started on the Cotswold Way we decided that the main focus of choosing routes should be on our continued journey to JOG. We have therefore walked on a mix of trails this week, avoiding some of the most circuitous parts of the Cotswold Way. But today we walked almost continuously on the CW, involving a great deal of climbing but some fabulous views. The misty start to the day soon gave way to bright sunshine – lovely walking weather.

There were also more stiles (and gates) than usual, from old stone stiles to traditional wooden stiles and modern metal V stiles! Often I struggle to climb over these with a full rucksack, and wonder how those who are larger than us would cope with some of the narrow kissing gates!

We faced a steep climb into Painswick, but were pleased to find a lovely pub still serving Sunday Roast, and then to discover our luxury B & B – ready for a hot bath and a rest.

A Backward Glance

Steep climbs from the word go today, first through a housing estate, then through farmland and eventually up to a ridge with views right across to Wales – well, if the thick mist hadn’t been in the way. After crossing a busy road, a gentle downhill path took us through open fields and airy woodland where we passed islands of bluebells. We met several people out for a Sunday stroll during this part of our walk. Carol stopped at a stile to let a crowd of ladies over and as one passed me she asked if there was a bull in the field. I replied, no, that was my wife; she very nearly came close to hitting me! Then we bumped into two very jovial ladies even older looking than us who were concerned about the size of Carol’s back pack. When I explained it was full of helium and that Carol had difficulty keeping her feet on the ground, they both looked ‘visibly relieved’. It was then another steep muddy path up, followed by a grassy descent to a pub where we heard a group of blokes at an outside table behind us comparing the establishment to Chernobyl. Having just been served my drink by Uncle Fester of The Adams Family, I inwardly concurred. From there it was six more miles of hilly fields of buttercups and pleasant walking among the many others out enjoying the afternoon sunshine and apart from the relentless climbing and occasional mud-hopping another pleasant, albeit tiring day.