From: Holt, Norfolk, UK
Started: 20120616
Finished: 20120623
The Cotswold Way was the first long distance walk I had attempted and it many ways it remains my fondest one. It has the ideal mix of hills, shady woods, wide open fields and idyllic towns and villages.
The weather was mixed throughout, as it ever seems to be on long distance walks (has anyone ever has perfect weather every day of walking holiday?) but never was the enjoyment of the Way diminished. And in places, such as atop Cleeve Hill looking out towards the Black mountains, the creeping grey clouds indeed added much to the colour and drama of the Way.
When the sun did shine, and it did it equal measure, it was impossible not to stop and simply stare, to listen, to hear, absorbing all the beauty the being a part the Way offers.
One of my fondest memories is that of lying amongst the grass and daisies by the Roman villa near Cooper’s Hills, not quite sleeping, while blues skies scorched and waves of sunshine washed over me, the bees buzzing and birds chattering overhead.
I have walked other Ways which have ended in towns or cities and after the peaceful wildness of being amongst nature this can often times be anticlimactic.
Not so on the Cotswold Way.
Standing atop Prospect Stile and looking down into the golden valley, shining with Bath’s sandstone architecture, you feel in some ways that this is the prize, the reward for making it to the end. Or, maybe, that gesture to make up for that slight sadness inside that comes with knowing there is no more walking.
For now.