Day 26: Road trip to Stroud
After a sweet evening that included watching the first entries to Winchester College's House Singing competition and a quiet time by the fire, the day started with a trip to Arlesford for a visit to the vet for Emma and a chance for me to wander the shops of this pretty Georgian town in search of some delicacies to bring with us to Stroud. We were visiting Angla Findlay, artist, childhood friend of Emma's and the author of a recent book about her coming to an understanding about her grandfather's role as a German general during World War II. It's a very personal, moving account.
Stroud is northwest of Swarraton, and Emma proposed to take me on the scenic, cross-country route. It was a beautiful afternoon as we crossed the Salisbury Plain and then turned northwest towards into the North Wessex Downs to Marlborough. I didn't stop to take photos, but the landscape of rolling hills, newly-cut fields with hedge borders and small brick-and timber villages, all bathed in amber fall sunlight, was beautiful.
Marlborough is a thriving market town. We had time, so we stopped for a pot of tea and a tooth-achingly delicious Millionaire's Shortbread, layered with caramel and milk chocolate. It was so nice to sit in the fall sunlight, watching the kids walk home from school across a marketplace that has witnessed the same for a few centuries.
Emma on this Marlborough pub: "England being very English."
Then it was on up through the Cotswolds, where the locally-quarried stone buildings glow gold in the afternoon light, and down down down into the valley of the River Severn to Stroud.
Angela greeted us with open arms, and we hurried to her garden to catch the last of the sunset from her hillside garden. She lives in the former lodge of a historic graveyard. It has two arched cellars below it, one of which she has used as a studio. Despite its likely original use, it was warm, welcoming and curiously light.
The rest of the evening, in Angela's candlelit kitchen over soup, cheese, bread and fruit, was emotionally intense and deeply moving. Hard to describe, and not for this kind of a blog. One thing was clear, my Camino brought me to Stroud, just as it brought me to Emma's home along the St. James Way.
The drive back across the Salisbury Plain under a nearly-full moon was yet another gift. Late to bed. So grateful.
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