Today we followed the Cotswold Way for most of the day, initially on wide paths in open countryside, and then through beech woods. It was a really lovely walk, with ideal walking weather, but a lot of steep climbs again.

Unfortunately there were no pubs or eating places en route, so we lunched on snack bars sitting on a log. The last part of our walk was tedious, through the streets and paths of Cheltenham. We were disappointed to find that the restaurant at our hotel is closed on Mondays so, after a much needed bath, we had another 20 minute walk to the King’s hotel – but the food was well worth the walk!

A Backward Glance

Leaving Painswick was along narrow dull cuts *etween and *ehind dismal housing reminiscent of where we live. As we gradually clim*ed out of the conur*ation we found ourselves crossing a golf course where we met a lovely *loke named *rian. He’d lived in the area for over forty years and was eager to spend the next forty explaining to us everything a*out the surrounding countryside we were not going to see on our linear trail North. Our walk then took us along muddy paths through very attractive woods *ut always within range of near*y humming traffic noise. We’d just come out onto a crossroad of paths and into the open and Carol needed a tête-à-tête with Mr Komoot the mud magnet – when it happened! Sorry kids, *ut I’ve some very sad and shocking news. Mum has suffered a relapse. It has *een over twenty four years and three months since the last out*reak and I know we all thought it was *ehind us for good, *ut unfortunately it’s *een there, dormant all this time. Yes, Mum has uttered the ‘*’ word again! Trying to extricate her phone from a pocket, she dropped *oth walking poles to the ground, then out it came, ‘Oh * – – – – r’. There was a very elderly gentleman within earshot and his face suddenly turned a whiter shade of pale, his jaw dropped like he was having a stroke and his lips were *oth quivering as if trying to say something *ut just too discom*o*ulated. However, and this is true, a remarka*le thing happened. That frail dear old gentleman walked over to your Mum, picked up the poles and handed them to her. It was like peace, love, grace, divine reconciliation all rolled up in one. The world went quiet in that moment and a tear slowly rolled down my cheek. *ut your Mum just said thanks and Mr. Komoot said “now take left turn”, and off they *oth shot at pace without an even ‘how’s your father’. I’m trying to come to terms with the situation, *ut as you can tell, still not a*le to write the letter ‘*’ in this *log, because each time it just rekindles the whole distur*ing reality of what’s happened again. Missing you kids very much at this time. Please don’t worry though, I’m holding up OK despite everything.