Ok, the formal schedule for today:
Breakfast in the room, out the door, heading for Bourton-on-the-Water (where cream teas go to die, aka "The Venice Of The Cotswolds").
Little quirky car emergency on the way. I started the car (digital display), and where it would normally display a big number for the mph, it had a running timer (28 hours and some change). I guess if you wanted to see how long it took to get somewhere, you'd use the timer.
Well, that's no good, I like the mph display.
I pulled over at the next pulling-over spot, and the display had a little check mark icon to stop the timer, so I looked around for that...nothing. I figured I must have bumped something by mistake to flip it to the timer, so it should be easy to flip back.
I looked and looked, nothing. I checked the owners manual on my phone, and this is what it said:
"...to disengage, follow the instructions on the display."
Well, that's helpful.
Time was wasting, so on we drove, but I started to feel my eyes drawn to the timer, kind of like the guy in Poe's Tell-Tale Heart. Pretty soon, all I could see was...THE TIMER!!! Ticking, always ticking...OH GOD MAKE IT STOP!!!
We got to BOTW, and the wife looked at it and said, "Hit menu...then arrow...then arrow...once more...now menu again...there."
Ok, smarty-pants, how did it get that way to begin with? I sure didn't hit menu-arrow-arrow-arrow-menu by mistake the day before!
Anway, walked around BOTH, which really is quite pretty, and just enough tourists to ruin every picture. You'd see a completely person-free scene, nice stream in town, pretty houses, trees, take out your camera, frame it, and...here comes some jerk and his butt-ugly wife, and they can't just walk through your shot, they've got to stop, look around, start walking, making you get that camera out again, then stop and go back. Fuckers!
We stopped for a cream tea, and that was good. I got a kick out of an ancient gal in there with (probably) her granddaughter. She was half-deaf, so she was loud, and she said the funniest things.
First, she started loudly reading the sayings on the wall:
"Oh look, Shelly...'Smile and the world smiles with you...that's really true, isn't it, dear? If you smile, then someone else will smile, and so on, until the whole world is smiling. Isn't that nice?"
The way she gave a lecture on a simple saying made me laugh.
Then, it got better. Shelly was speaking softly, so I don't know what it was about, but this is what I heard:
"No! Not with Mrs. Fell?! Never!"
"He can't have! She's so *untidy*!"
"Well, you won't catch me talking to him! Not after that!"
Left BOTW and headed for Broad Campden, had a beer and a disagreement, then down multiple single-track roads back to the hotel.
This is our last night at this hotel, checking out in the morning for two nights at the airport Hilton before flying out, so we wanted a nice dinner.
We picked a pub we saw on our first day in, on another single-track road, called the Green Dragon Inn. It looked like slightly upscale but pubbish. It boasted locally-shot pheasant (we've seen upwards of 17,000 pheasants since we've been here), and included the warning that the pheasant might contain the odd bit of buckshot, so beware.
My turn to have gammon, egg, and chips and the wife had a sirloin steak. The food was a bit better than ok, but the desserts really made up for it.
The wife had banoffee pie, but this was a spectacular version, very deep, rich, homemade caramel and I had a ginger pudding with warm custard sauce on top (and all over).
Cool/annoying thing: we ate in the bar, which was beautiful, and right after we sat, in came about a dozen guys from a day of shooting. Knee britches, matching vests, socks, the whole bit. Neat because, does it get more British than a pub full of shooters, annoying because they were LOUD! And this was the *second* time this happened (the other was the unfriendly lot at the Falkland Arms in Great Tew).
It was all made better when a woman came in with her wolfhound. He was a treat.
After all that, back to the hotel, then I legged it the 15 minutes down to Sainsburys to take out some cash, then back again, and here I am.
Oh, we drove through Chipping Campden, it's also picture postcard perfect.