Let’s do a little armchair travelling to the beautiful Cotswold villages of Burford and Chipping Campden.
Like many people, we have postponed our overseas trips for now; I’ll use the found time to catch up on photos of past trips and let the world gradually come to grips with Covid-19.
We drove through Burford in 2011 on our first foray to the Cotswolds and were utterly charmed by the steeply pitched street, with its zanily crooked timbered shops and elegant stone row houses.
This seems like home!
Burford is a small medieval town on the River Windrush, in the Cotswold hills, in the West Oxfordshire district of Oxfordshire, England.
Often referred to as the ‘gateway’ to the Cotswolds, Burford is about 18 miles west of the beautiful University town of Oxford.
The name Burford is derived from the Old English words burh meaning fortified town or hilltown and ford, the crossing of a river. Indeed, the steeply pitched high street of Burford levels out at the river Windrush below, where lovely gardens line the banks.
Contented Mallard ducks float along the calm surface.
And attend to their ablutions while perched on the mossy stone walls lining the river bank.
Small footbridges span the river, providing bucolic access to the nearby churchyard of St. John the Baptist Church.
The grounds surrounding the church are quite extensive.
Lichen and moss-covered tombs nestle on the river side of the church.
The ones on the other side have clearly enjoyed a lot more sunshine; the moss is only at the base on these.
The spring flowers were just spectacular when we saw Burford again last year.
The deep wine reds and sparkling white were an interesting and unusual combination; spring flowers so often feature yellows and blues.
The tombstones are very close to the pathway leading to the main doors of the church.
Of course, I had to go in. But I will not go into exhaustive detail – promise! Just a couple of snaps. Lovely stained glass in the nave.
I always get a kick out of the kneelers, each with a unique needlepoint pattern created by members of the congregation. The Dundee cushion spoke to me immediately, of course, though the lovely pansies were a close runner-up.
Ok – back outside now. No more interior church pictures.
The houses at the lower end of the town enjoy a flat terrain, bordered with a flagged stone sidewalk.
While the residents of the houses at the upper end of town get their daily exercise trotting up and down the steep hill.
We stayed in a small self-catering cottage in Burford last year, dubbed “Little Scarlet”. Its a Unique Home Stays offering – the same people who brought us Valentine’s Lost Orangery. While a bit odd in some ways (you’ll see why in a minute), Little Scarlet’s location was perfect – in the lower part of town, merely steps from shops and pubs.
Here are some more pictures from their website. This is the main sitting room. It was really comfortable, and we loved using the little wooden closed stove. It heated up the room in no time. As an aside, it was here we discovered wax fire starters, a compact and natural substitute for kindling. Brilliant.
A small outdoor patio was tucked in at the back of the house. It was a bit chilly while we were there, so we didn’t use it, but it would be lovely in warmer weather.
Now for the weird bit. Yes indeed. The owner elected to transform the middle floor into a huge bathroom with two slipper tubs, and have only one bedroom, located on the top floor. Not the most practical decision, but it suited her. I found the boudoir decor to be a bit oppressive (how many nude photos does one house need?) but was very happy with the location, the downstairs decor and the overall comfort of the house.
The kitchen was modern and well-appointed. All in, I’d highly recommend the house for two people.
Let’s hop in the car now and drive over to nearby Chipping Campden, famous for its elegant terraced High Street, dating from the 14th century to the 17th century.
“Chipping” is from Old English cēping, “a market, a market-place”. Several other English towns have the same sobriquet, namely Chipping Norton and Chipping Sodbury – very PJ Wodehouse – it always makes me giggle (I know, very immature).
At the centre of town stands the Market Hall with its splendid arches. It was built in 1627 and still in use. There was a plan to sell the hall in the 1940s but locals raised funds to purchase the property and donated it to the National Trust.
The building provides shelter for merchants and farmers selling their wares. The side walls are open to allow light (and customers) to enter. The floors are delightfully dippy and uneven, and the interior is surprisingly cool, even in high summer.
Chipping Campden was a rich wool trading centre in the Middle Ages and today it is a popular tourist destination bursting with old inns, hotels, specialty shops, and restaurants.
But the real charm is the abundance of historically Listed buildings – from diminutive to quite massive. For a relatively small town, Chipping Campden has an astonishing 256 such properties. I could have snapped photos all day.
Most are built from the mellow yellow, locally quarried “oolitic limestone” known as Cotswold stone.
Typical of Britain, the gardens are immaculate.
I loved the name on this one: “Hoo Cottage”.
Glenn was patience itself, and obligingly pulled over as I kept yelling “stop the car!” before leaping out to catch a particularly beguiling aspect.
Really, couldn’t you live in any one of them?
Oh, happy sigh…
I will end where we began, with my favourite of the houses. Which one did you like best?
The next few months are going to be trying for everyone, and I’m hopeful that we will be able to find a middle ground between the current extremes of panic-buying (what’s with the loo paper hoarding? hand-sanitizer I sort of get, but bales of bog-roll? really???) and the other extreme of inappropriate insouciance. It seems that things will likely get a whole lot worse before they get better, so we will all need to be patient and calm.
Stay safe, everyone,
I’m sharing this post with Between Naps on the Porch.
Dear Helen, Thanks for the lovely photos of a place I loved when I studied in England. I based myself at CC in summer of ’73, walking endlessly/busing from village to village after school was out. It hasn’t changed a bit. This is the England the Brexiteers were nostalgic for.
Panic buying is still not crazy here; my flight has been canceled, so who knows when we’ll get back to the Alps, but OH is determined to keep his businesses going. Our chances of getting acutely ill are remote, so we’ll probably head over there when their cases level out. Given the incompetent official response here so far, I think I’d rather be there…Austria and Switzerland closed all gathering places (restaurants, bars, schools, shops) and ski season has been stopped early. Supermarkets have curtailed hours. I just hope they don’t take Denmark’s lead and close the whole country to expats. As the airports and planes are ghost towns, it may be the safest time to travel. Stay safe…
You’re right on all counts, Beatrice. Cotswold villages are just as described in the Miss Read books; it’s hard to imagine anything more quintessentially English.
Though we are U.K. citizens, we thought it better to let things settle down; we have rebooked for September, when we hope the situation will be on the mend. People were incredibly responsive and accommodating, though we still can’t get through to the airline. At present its hard to picture a more trying job than being an airline representative, between sudden “off limits” countries and all international flights being rerouted through a limited number of airports. What a logistical nightmare.
I hope you get your arrangements sorted sooner, rather than later. I’m sure you’d like to get yourself settled in the cool Alps, where you will have little difficulty maintaining the requisite yard of distance from other bodies!
I get so homesick when I see your lovely photos of these English villages. Burford was always a stop on our way to Broadway in the cotswolds. It makes me really miss my thatched roof Tudor home in Walton on Thames. Oh well, now at the Phoenix airport flying home a day early. Changed our flight to 1st class. Row 1 to get away from all sneezing people. Westport to get post and then to CC in a few days. Stay in touch and be safe!
We love Broadway, and have had many wonderful meals at The Swan. Have you ever read Shattered by Dick Francis? It’s set in Broadway and the protagonist is a glassblower. One of his best.
I hope you had an uneventful trip home to Westport. Reading the papers this morning, I shuddered to see the total chaos and 10-hour waits at the “lucky few” airports who have been selected to receive international passengers. Apparently screening involves an airport official taking a medical history and then advising everyone to self-quarantine for 14 days. Perhaps just skip the first step? I would have thought that clustering people cheek by jowl for several hours would be more likely to result in the spread of infection rather than the reverse? It’s shaping up to be a very trying few months.
We breezed into JFK and no other cars on the road home. Record time home. Now gathering up 6 wks of minutia and heading g to CC tomorrow. C u there in a couple! Stay well, Don’t breath