We hit the wall

OK so full disclosure. We may have got out of the blocks just a little fast and have made a truce to slow things down to a sustainable pace. Rookie mistake. We’re holed up in a little town called Wells in Somerset. Big enough to find some decent pubs and a market. Small enough that the tourists aren’t bothered with it. Bliss.

Boules tournament on a Sunday and an intriguing little spot called Venue which goes off on a Sat night. Not a lot of teeth to be seen in the dining room!

It turns out Wells is famous for its massive Gothic cathedral – the first and biggest in England. The Bishop’s Palace next door (complete with moat) has some of the most extraordinary English gardens and modern sculpture, which all just seem to work together.

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We managed to catch a Seniors tour of the cathedral, very good value again.

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As a real bonus the place we’re staying at is owned by a professor of design at Pasadena University and designs books. It’s the loft of a converted guardhouse and his restoration is just amazing. Quite a haven after our fold-out-of-the-cupboard bed in a Bath boarding house.

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Roger put in a solid day at the Crown on Sunday and shared the rollercoaster of winning/drawing/losing the cricket. Made some new friends who were all politely apologetic about their win. Much like the Aussies really.

We spent a couple of hours in Glastonbury, just up the road. We’re either two weeks late or a couple of years early for the next festival. What a fantastic ’70s time capsule. Wall-to-wall crystals, tie- dye and harem pants and perhaps the strangest mirror I’ve seen.

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Roger sought and found enlightenment here.

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We’re off to The Cotwolds for a few hays then inching our way North. Thanks to GPS and a bit of time out, we’re still married and having a great time.