Sunday Lunch in The Cotswolds
On Sunday we woke early but left home late.
Having spent the morning playing in our castle we eventually stepped out into the chilly autumn sunshine, in search of breakfast.
Waving goodbye to our little honeypot of a cottage…
…and striding into the village.
With its wibbly wobbly streets and higgledy piggledy houses.
Back to Huxleys, where we bagged a table beside the fire.
And tucked into exceptionally cheesy eggs.
After breakfast we wandered aimlessly through Chipping Campden.
Back to our Banqueting House.
And walked out over the hills.
Every Londoner needs to escape to the countryside now and then.
The fresh air and uninterrupted sky are the perfect antidote to the hustle and bustle of town life.
Autumn is particularly lovely because everything’s so crisp.
From the falling leaves to the sparkling dew underfoot.
And there’s nothing quite like an alfresco snooze!
I had hoped to walk all the way to the next village over, but with aching legs and quite out of puff from climbing hills, we surrendered and went home.
Where, much to my husband’s relief, we hopped into the car instead.
We made our way to the very tiny, very pretty village of Paxford.
Complete with rose covered cottages.
Scrumptiously scented Lilies.
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But most importantly, a spectacularly good pub.
With a fire crackling away in the dining room.
Here we were treated to the very best Sunday roast I’ve had in a long time.
Pork and caramelised apple for me.
Roast beef for him.
All the trimmings.
And some decorate pumpkins for the elf.
We did our very best to taste them all before we left.
A 5 star Sunday if you ask me.
10 if you ask Lily.
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