So, this weekend, I was thinking I'd get out of London. I'd made plans a few weeks back to rent a cottage for the weekend, go up to the Cotswolds, and in general have some nice fun out of the city. I'm a country girl at heart, so hiking, nice fields and forests, and wildlife are all my cup of tea. I checked train reservations on the national rail website (www.nationalrail.co.uk) and had a cottage reserved for Friday and Saturday nights. I picked up my train tickets early, and am glad I did because my train left London at 5:40 in the morning which meant I was lucky I could walk and breathe at the same time, much less operate a ticket kiosk. I was staying in the little town of Shipton-Under-Wychwood which is in the Cotswolds (which is an area in central England that is just beautiful.) It's really idyllic and most of the houses are made out of a beautiful gold-brown stone that is apparently native to the area.
So, like I said, I left London fairly early in the morning. I took a cab to the station because the Tube doesn't run that early in the morning. It starts most lines around 5:20 but I wasn't willing to just give myself 20 minutes to get to the station and since the next train left for Shipton at 4:00 that evening, I'd decided that I really wanted to be on that early train. I got there around 8 maybe 9 in the morning on Friday, which was great because it basically meant I got to spend the whole day traveling from Shipton to Shipton-Under-Wychwood which, according to the addresses I had plugged into Mapquest, were about eight miles apart. I'd used the address from the train station to the cottage I was staying in. And to be honest, I didn't mind the walk because it would give me a great opportunity to walk around and see the Cotswolds, which was what I had come out to do anyway.
Well, just to let you know, in England, there is no I-65 N or 461W or anything like that. So, know the towns that are in the direction you want to go. For example, if you were in Indiana on I-65 going North towards Indianapolis, It wouldn't say I-65 North in England, it would say I-65 towards Indianapolis. Of course, for those of us who have lived in Indiana for years, it's obvious that Indianapolis is North of, say Louisville, and that we know that. It's a bit different for someone not from the area. So, I'm getting on A361 towards....I have no idea. Which puts me at a bit of a loss as to what direction I want to go in. And, since I see no signs saying A316 to Shipton-Under-Wychwood, I have a problem. So, I call daddy. Unfortunately, for daddy, I call him at about 4am their time. Sorry, dad, but I was lost. So, Dad gets up, out of his nice warm bed for his totally devoted, loving, very lost daughter, checks out a map, and points me in the right direction.
Well, at least I thought so. I ended up walking about two miles in the wrong direction before turning around and having to walk back. Apparently Mapquest confused eight miles, and about one kilometer, because that was literally about how far my cottage was from the train station. Perhaps a mile, mile and a half tops. But it was certainly not eight miles. And you know the real irony of the situation. I was calling my dad at the corner of a three way stop. A361 went in two directions, right and left, and right across from me was a second, smaller road. Had I gone down that road across from me, I would have been at my cottage in about 400 yards. But, oh well. I finally got there and got to see some great countryside. I just wish I could have seen it without a 20lbs backpack on my back.
Anyway, the cottage was great, and I got to see some really great sites. And I spent most of the weekend reading and drinking tea (How very English of me) and all in all it was absolute heaven.
The cottage
There were stone walls everywhere in Shipton-Under-Wychwood, most of them in excellent condition.
Now that is just gorgeous and you know it.
It is quite easy for one to get lost in the past along this path.
I just stopped in to say "Hello"However, getting back on Sunday was a different story. Alright, so I told you how I checked for my times on the national rail website, correct. I saw that there was a train leaving Shipton on Sunday that would get me back to London sometime around 10 or 11. So, I went to the train station and waited. 10:30 came and went, still no train. I waited until about 11, thinking that it was probably late, and then looked at the time table on the train station. There are no trains that leave Shipton on Sundays. There are also no buses leaving Shipton to go anywhere where I could get a train, and none of the nearby towns are guaranteed to have a train out anyway. I learned all of this after I hiked to a gas station down the road. So, finally I just borrowed a phone book and called a cab. I think it was about one at this time. The cab company tells me it's going to be about twenty minutes. I wait forty and call them back. They can't find me. I give them more instructions (apparently there are quite a few different Shiptons and they need to know exactly which one I'm at.) I tell them I'm right down Station Road from the Shipton train station. Still doesn't help. So, finally, I ask the gas station attendant where I am. He tells me, I tell them. It still takes another hour or so for the taxi to get to me.
When it does, I still think karma's playing a practical joke on me. My cab driver's name is Fabio (no, I'm not making that up) he keeps asking me if I have a boyfriend and telling me to call him the next time I'm in town and we can go clubbing. With a population of about 500, most over the age of 65, I have to wonder what kind of nightlife Shipton has that doesn't involve a high fiber dinner and the British version of Wheel of Fortune.
So, I take the taxi all the way to Oxford with Fabio enjoying the sound of his own voice, asking me about American boys and what I like to do, what food I like to eat. When I tell him I like to cook he tells me he can cook good Indian food and then launches into a description of every Indian restaurant within a thirty mile radius. I'm still trying to decide if he wanted to take me home or if he wanted me to find him a good American boy to take home. Needless to say, I don't think I'll be calling him the next time I'm in Shipton. But he was very nice.
So, anyway, I finally made it back to London around 4 that evening. It was great fun, though, even with the glitches. I had a wonderful time in Shipton and if you ever go, try to rent the Newbarn Cottage for a few days. It was really a lovely place.
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