The Cotswolds, Day Three: Going Home a Bit Too Soon

Insomnia was rife in our house, as once again we were all up much earlier than last night would have suggested we would. Although the omelettes were well worth it breakfast was late and lazy, something which set the pace for the rest of the day. Half the house left for a pre-lunch bike rides while the rest of us stayed in to watch the opening F1 race.

Lunch was held indoors, and consisted of leftovers from the previous dinners. Poker was played, jetty lounging was had (the sun had come out in full force), and much talking and joking was done. It was an essentially carefree day where although not much was achieved no one really cared.

Still, in order to justify the day we headed out for scones and tea - we had missed all the decent tea shops (they close at 5pm on a Sunday - who knew?) so ended up at a nearby hotel instead who was kind enough to delay the closing of their kitchen in order to provide us with our fix.

This pretty much brought us to the end of the day, and indeed the holiday itself. It felt that we had been there for ages as we sat and looked through the pictures up on the plasma; memories that we had created only a couple of hours ago felt classical and we all lamented at how quickly the weekend went - it had barely felt like we had settled in. A couple of hours later (less than half the amount of time it took us to get out there!) we were back in London dining over kebabs, a last effort to squeeze a final drop of holiday out of the weekend.

On the positive side this was such an easy weekend, a quick win in terms of getting away, that there's no reason why it couldn't be done again and more often. A precedent has been set, it seems.