Wandering the “Venice of the Cotswolds”: Bourton-on-Water

The banks of the River Windrush are lined with restaurants in Bourton-on-the-Water. ©Laurel Kallenbach

The banks of the River Windrush are lined with restaurants in Bourton-on-the-Water. ©Laurel Kallenbach

July 2021: With the COVID pandemic keeping many of us at home, now is a great time to reminisce about past travels.

As of this posting, visits to England are allowed, but COVID tests and a 10-day quarantine in your hotel is required upon arrival.)

Originally published: October 2017

My husband and I arrived by foot from Lower Slaughter in Bourton-on-the-Water—yet another lovely town in the England’s Cotswold Hills. It was 4:30 p.m., which seemed to be the tourist rush hour. All the tea shops were overflowing with people sipping Orange Pekoe or cappuccinos and forking down fresh-baked cake. An entire busload of visitors was huddled en masse to get their picture taken on one of the picturesque footbridges that arch over the River Windrush. Their guide was wading in the river, hamming it up. What had we stumbled into?

Hydrangeas, Bourton-on-the-Water ©Laurel Kallenbach

Hydrangeas, Bourton-on-the-Water ©Laurel Kallenbach

While it’s true that Bourton-on-the-Water is a popular spot, I have to admit that once again, town emptied out by 5:30, and everything got a lot quieter—and considerably prettier and more enjoyable.

A bit footsore, Ken and I found a bench with a lovely view of the river with its bridges, which give this town its “Venice of the Cotswolds” name.

We watched little kids play in the sleepy river. A miniature boat race—featuring homemade crafts constructed out of leaves and anything folks could find—was taking place.

It felt wonderful just to sit and drink in the ambiance of the place. No rushing, no worries, no ponderous thoughts—other than wondering where we would eat that night.

Ken just loved the regionally brewed beer at the waterside Kingsbridge Pub. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Ken just loved the regionally brewed beer at the waterside Kingsbridge Pub. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Soon our stomachs propelled us in search of food and drink. After checking menus at several of the many eateries, we settled on the riverside Kingsbridge Pub and thoroughly enjoyed a fantastic Hobgoblin IPA (from the Wychwood Brewery in nearby Oxfordshire), which we sipped on the outdoor patio. Although the Chicken Tikka Curry wasn’t quite as memorable, the views of the water in the golden light of early evening more than compensated.

Our accommodations in Bourton-on-the-Water were at The Lawns B&B, hosted by the affable owner, Angie. We had a spacious room, which was quiet and restful, despite the B&B’s location by a fairly busy highway. (It was also a 10-minute walk from the center of town, which wasn’t a problem, but we were a bit tired of walking by that point.) Some aged sheep in retirement—put out to pasture, so to speak!—grazed right outside our window.

Angie’s delicious English breakfasts were cooked to order—a Continental breakfast was also on the menu—and everything was served in the home’s cheery dining room.

A tradesman's sign for the town goldsmith. ©Laurel Kallenbach

A tradesman’s sign for the town goldsmith. ©Laurel Kallenbach

It was a pleasure to spend two nights at The Lawns, especially because we had space to spread out. It also meant we didn’t have to unpack and pack again in the morning. Because it was nearing Bank Holiday, when inns and bed-and-breakfasts fill up, we walked to the next village, Guiting Power (see my next post), and were picked up by a taxi service and returned for the night in Bourton-on-the-Water.

Click here for more information about Cotswold Walks, the company that arranged our delightful village-to-village walking vacation. For general information about the Cotswolds region, visit its tourism site.

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and editor

Read more about my Cotswold hiking trip:

More about my travels in England:

A boy watches the River Windrush drift by. ©Laurel Kallenbach

A boy watches the River Windrush drift by. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Walking in the Cotswolds: The Beautiful Slaughters

June 2021: While the COVID pandemic is keeping most of us at home, now is a great time to reminisce about past travels. 

Originally published: September 2017

Lower Slaughter, a village on the banks of the River Eye ©Laurel Kallenbach

Lower Slaughter, a charming village on the banks of the River Eye.  ©Laurel Kallenbach

Yes, the names of Upper and Lower Slaughter—which we visited on our second day of walking in England’s Cotswold Hills—sound alarming, but if you’ve read Bill Bryson’s The Road to Little Dribbling or Notes from a Small Island you already know that English country towns often carry strange appellations. (And for the record, “Slaughter” comes from the Old English word for a wetland—“slough” or slothre—meaning a “muddy place.”)

The trails were well marked throughout our English walking vacation. ©Laurel Kallenbach

The trails were well marked throughout our English walking vacation. ©Laurel Kallenbach

During our second day walking the “Best of the Cotswolds” loop, the highlight of our 7.5-mile hike was our arrival at these two villages. The walk began with a trek through farm after farm, field gate after field gate, dodging cow patties the size of hubcaps.

How is it possible we were walking across private farmland? In Britain, the Countryside and Rights of Way Act gives people access to “mountain, moor, heath, or down”—within reason, of course. We were almost always on established trails, and usually we could see where other hikers had already plodded across or on the edge of fields. We were respectful of the livestock and crops—although the corn and hay had already been harvested by late August.

The Old Mill in Lower Slaughter ©Laurel Kallenbach

The Old Mill in Lower Slaughter ©Laurel Kallenbach

Waiting for us after all the farm crossings were two jewels of Cotswold villagedom. First we came to Lower Slaughter, a small village populated by stone cottages built along the slow-moving River Eye.

Lower Slaughter is best known for its 19th-century flour mill with its picturesque waterwheel and chimney. The Old Mill is now a museum and gift shop—which also happens to sell some wonderful ice cream. We had lunch outdoors at the River Café and watched the ducks as we slurped our soup and tucked into sandwiches.

The steeple of the 13th-century Anglican church, St. Mary’s, presides over the town, and its clock bells add to the village’s timeless feel. An occasional bench makes a nice place to sit and take in the scenery. We could hardly take a dozen steps without snapping a photo, especially after the sun peeped out.

St Mary's Parish, Lower Slaughter ©Laurel Kallenbach

St Mary’s Parish, Lower Slaughter ©Laurel Kallenbach

There’s something irresistible about willow trees beside the water and Cotswold-stone cottages with flower boxes full of bright blooms.

(Cotswold stone is honey-colored sandstone that’s been quarried in the region for centuries and used to build houses and churches.)

At one pretty cottage, a couple was hanging swags of international flags for the upcoming Bank Holiday Village Fete.

After enjoying the views of Lower Slaughter, we continued our walk—yes, through more fields—to Upper Slaughter, a little less than a mile away. Along the way were some glorious trees, including age-old oaks and horse chestnuts that looked like massive green haystacks with pendant nut pods.

Cottage in Upper Slaughter ©Laurel Kallenbach

Cottage in Upper Slaughter ©Laurel Kallenbach

This village was—is it possible?—even smaller and a bit more posh than Lower Slaughter. Every cottage had climbing roses and flowerboxes; every stone was perfectly situated.

We wandered about Upper Slaughter and ambled into the Norman St. Peter’s church, where the list of priests/clergy stretches back to the 1200s.

We returned to Lower Slaughter to continue on our route to Bourton-on-Water, and in the process of passing through a kissing gate we noticed a plaque commemorating the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana in July of 1981.
Charles and Diana plaque, Lower Slaughter©Laurel Kallenbach

It was a bit sad considering it was just a week before the 20th anniversary of Diana’s death. Ken and I shared a smooch at every kissing gate we passed through during our trip, and we thought about how much happier we were than that infamously unhappy royal couple.

PS: What’s a kissing gate? It allows people, but not livestock, to pass through it. The hinged gate swings between the two sides of an enclosure, so only one person can step through it at a time, and they can kiss across the gate.

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and editor

Read more about my Cotswold hiking trip:

More about my travels in England:

Farmhouse on the edge of Upper Slaughter ©Laurel Kallenbach

Farmhouse on the edge of Upper Slaughter         ©Laurel Kallenbach

This cottage was decorated for Lower Slaughter's Bank Holiday Fete ©Laurel Kallenbach

This cottage was decorated for Lower Slaughter’s Bank Holiday Fete ©Laurel Kallenbach

 

Village-to-Village Walking in the Cotswolds: Day 1

Street on Market Square, Moreton-in-Marsh, the Cotswolds. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Street on Market Square, Moreton-in-Marsh, the Cotswolds. ©Laurel Kallenbach

May 2021: Because the COVID pandemic is keeping most of us at home, now is a great time to reminisce about past travels. As of this posting, travel to England is allowed, but two COVID tests plus a 10-day quarantine is required upon arrival.)

Originally published: September 2017

Cotswolds Walking Trip Motivation: After three major surgeries over three consecutive years to remove non-cancerous tumors from my hip, I wanted to celebrate my recovered mobility by doing a walking tour.

The Inspiration: While recovering from my last surgery, I visualized walking from village to village in England’s rural Cotswold Hills. The green landscape there is filled with farmland, woodland, and villages dating to medieval and Tudor periods. Now it was time to make my dream come true!

The Company: My husband and I signed up with Cotswold Walks, a locally based company that offers a variety of long and short self-guided walking tours in the region. We chose the “Best of the Cotswolds” itinerary because it offered shorter distances (from 3.5 to 8 miles per day) with more time to go at a leisurely pace. And the villages looked stunningly gorgeous! All Cotswold Walks include accommodations in small inns and B&Bs (breakfast included), an up-to-date guidebook showing your route with detailed instructions, and transfer of one suitcase per person from inn to inn.

The Timing: August 2017, exactly one year after my hip replacement.

Day 1: Moreton-in-Marsh to Stow-on-the-Wold

Hiking through the fields of barley ©Laurel Kallenbach

Hiking through the fields of barley ©Laurel Kallenbach

After two nights adjusting to the time change from Colorado to England, Ken and I headed out on the first leg of our journey: the 7.5-mile trek from Moreton-in-Marsh to Stow-on-the-Wold.

My heart was pounding, and I hadn’t even started walking yet. I was nervous about beginning with such a long walk. How tough would it be? Would we get rained on? We set off from the Market Square, made our way down the sidewalks and along a busy road, and then we turned off into tranquil farmland on The Monarch’s Way trail.

Old Shop 2 in Longborough ©Laurel Kallenbach

Old Shop 2 in Longborough ©Laurel Kallenbach

So we began navigating through field gates and kissing gates (?!) and across pastures inhabited by sheep and cows in England’s lush countryside.

Our guidebook, which included Ordinance Survey maps, was easy to follow. A typical instruction was: “With the field gate on your right, continue up the hill. Pass through another field gate and past Lower Keeper’s Cottage. Turn left (east) before the cattle grid and follow the Heart of England trail alongside the field boundary to a field gate.”

We met locals walking their dogs, as well as other Cotswold Walks hikers on the paths. (We could identify the latter because they were carrying the same white guidebook that we had, and when we struck up conversation, we found that they were all fascinating people.) Soon I was relaxed and smiling. I felt free and unburdened: I carried just my hiking poles, my iPhone, a notebook (because that’s essential gear for a writer) and a daypack with rain wear and snacks/water. And Ken did most of the navigating.

We ate lunch at the Coach and Horses pub in Longborough ©Laurel Kallenbach

We ate lunch at the Coach and Horses pub in Longborough ©Laurel Kallenbach

By the time we reached the picturesque village of Longborough, I was more than ready to rest my feet and stop for lunch at the Coach & Horses Pub and Inn. Lots of locals were congregating at tables or around the bar, catching up on the town gossip and enjoing a pint. We ordered bowls of soup and glasses of Cotswold Gold Ale, made at Donnington Brewery, the next village down the road.

Hollyhocks in Longborough, a village in the Cotswolds ©Ken Aikin

Hollyhocks in Longborough ©Ken Aikin

We chatted with a couple of old-timers and we giggled at some of the bar’s signs: “Save water; drink beer” and “Nobody notices what I do until I don’t do it.”

A lively group of eight young women celebrating a baby shower rounded out the crowd.

Refreshed, we set out for the second half of the walk: first admiring the gardens and dry-stack stone walls of Longborough. We climbed up a hill with a huge muddy patch and looked back to see a manor estate in the distance. Think Downton Abbey.

We ambled through the farm of yet another country estate, across a ridge with views for miles, and then up a steep incline before arriving at a tunnel through dense trees. We felt like we’d walked into the set of The Hobbit.

This tunnel through the trees was a thrill to walk through. ©Laurel Kallenbach

This tunnel through the trees was a thrill to walk through. ©Laurel Kallenbach

At last we descended into Stow-on-the-Wold, right at tea time, and the tea shops along Sheep Street were packed with tourists; the Old Town Square was filled with buses and cars. (In medieval times it would have been filled with sheep, as wool was big business.)

I was bushed and couldn’t wait to get to our hotel, the Old Stocks Inn, where I took off my hiking boots, sank onto the bed, and elevated my feet—just to let the blood flow the opposite direction.

But I did it! I survived the first day of walking in the Cotswolds—my dream trip. My hip felt great; my left foot with its arthritic toe did OK. And after half an hour of rest—and a cup of tea in the room—I felt restored enough to walk around the Square. I was particularly interested in St Edward’s Parish Church, a typical Norman church with a stone, crenellated tower. Its north door is flanked by ancient yew trees, and it looks like it’s straight out of The Hobbit or a medieval fairy tale.

Celebrating my first day of walking at our destination, Stow-on-the-Wold. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Celebrating my first day of walking at our destination, Stow-on-the-Wold. ©Ken Aikin

We were ravenous, and the historic Queen’s Head Pub in Stow-on-the-Wold was ideal. The sign was painted with red-haired Queen Elizabeth I’s portrait and was furnished in Tudor style with rough, blackened beams; stone and wood floors; hops hanging from the ceiling; mullioned windows, and an old man in his cap reading a book while his dog yawned beneath the table.

Cotswold ales on tap at the Queen's Head pub ©Laurel Kallenbach

Cotswold ales on tap at the Queen’s Head pub ©Laurel Kallenbach

I ordered a Moroccan Chicken with Rice with Hummus and Harissa, and for dessert Ken and I shared Plum Crumble with Vanilla Ice Cream. We’d earned the calories!!

Then it was off for an early bedtime; luckily The Old Stocks Inn was just across the street.

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and editor…and walker

Read more about my Cotswold hiking trip:

More about my travels in England:

We walked past this farmhouse outside Moreton-in-Marsh ©Laurel Kallenbach

We walked past this farmhouse outside Moreton-in-Marsh ©Laurel Kallenbach

Boulder after the Mass Shooting: Rebuilding Our Spirit

My hometown of Boulder, Colorado, attracts visitors from all over the world. The city is well known for its vistas of the scenic Flatirons; for its hip, new-agey vibe; and for its fit population of cyclers, hikers, and rock climbers. Over the decades, magazines have dubbed Boulder the fittest town in America, the happiest town in the country, an outdoor mecca, brewpub central, and a health-food heaven.

The memorial for the victims of the 2021 shooting at a Boulder King Soopers ©Laurel Kallenbach

Boulder’s aura of positivity took a hit on March 22, 2021, when it joined dozens of American cities that have experienced a gun-related mass murder. Among the dead are 10 people: shoppers, supermarket employees, and the first police officer to arrive at the scene.

In the shooting’s aftermath, Boulder’s most-visited site is now the memorial at the Table Mesa King Soopers supermarket where the fatal shooting occurred. A collection of heartfelt condolences—flowers, candles, cards, posters, Tibetan prayer flags, stuffed animals, balloons, photos—adorns the chain-link fence that surrounds the crime scene, brought by people in our community and by others who have journeyed here to pay their respects.

©Laurel Kallenbach

These memorial gifts are a small comfort to the families and friends of the those who died. The loss of each person has sent ripples of grief through the community—even through those of us who didn’t personally know the shooting victims. To lose 10 at once is a blow—all that energy and potential gone.

We Boulderites excel at joyous displays of athleticism. One of the largest is the Bolder Boulder 10K race held each Memorial Day (except during the pandemic). More than 50,000 participants run, jog or walk while another 70,000-plus spectators cheer them on.

We clap for elite runners from around the globe, and we shout encouragement to eager but sometimes exhausted runners of all ages and abilities, including those who race despite injuries, disabilities, or medical diagnoses. The fastest of all are the wheelchair racers, many of whom are paraplegics or amputees, who know a thing or two about overcoming heartbreak and difficult times. As an annual Bolder Boulder spectator, I love to holler myself hoarse: “You can do it! Keep it up, keep it up!”

Thousands have come to the memorial to pay their respects to the victims of the shooting at the Boulder King Soopers ©Laurel Kallenbach

A Community Grieves

Right now, the thousands of people who gather along Table Mesa Drive in Boulder every day aren’t there to cheer. We’re there to weep, to pay tribute, to honor the bravery of shoppers and grocery-store employees and a police officer. They were all going about daily life and doing their necessary work when they were cut down. Tackling everyday chores, carrying out work duties, and picking up food for dinner are rarely celebrated publically—not even in positive-thinking Boulder. Though maybe they should be.

People gather mostly in silence at the King Soopers memorial to confront the senseless loss of life, the randomness of death. There’s anger and sorrow. At night, the Boulder Star is lit on a mountainside that overlooks our town. It usually shines only during the winter holidays, but right now we need the hope that beacon represents.

In addition to messages of condolence and support for the families of this lost were posters about gun control. ©Laurel Kallenbach

The City of Boulder has invited people all over Colorado to go outside at 8:00 every evening for 10 days and to take 10 slow breaths, followed by 10 minutes of silence. Each minute of breathing honors a shooting victim. 

For the first eight months of the coronavirus pandemic, I howled  nightly at 8:00 from my porch in gratitude for health-care workers and first responders. That ritual lifted my spirits, especially when I heard neighbors clapping, cheering, and barking at the moon.

Now my phone alarm is set again for the Time of Remembrance: 10 minutes to remember the 10 fallen and their family: Denny Stong, Neven Stanisic, Rikki Olds, Tralona Bartkowiak, Suzanne Fountain, Teri Leiker, Kevin Mahoney, Lynn Murray, Jody Waters, Eric Talley. Collective breathing unites us in sorrow.

Connecting with Community

On Sunday, March 29, my husband and I visited the King Soopers Memorial. It was sunny and 55 degrees, but icy gusts ripped down from the mountains. Spring in Colorado is a season of abrupt changes: one day you’re out jogging in shorts, the next day you’re shoveling snow. One day people dash into a local grocery store for milk or bread or to get a COVID vaccine, the next day that supermarket is a crime scene.

Singers at Boulder’s King Soopers memorial ©Laurel Kallenbach

In shock, the perpetually hiking, cycling, yoga-practicing people of Boulder moved slowly around the King Soopers memorial, reading heartfelt notes addressed to the dead or memories written by a loved one.

Some signs plead for gun reform. “How many more?” asks one designed to look like the state flag that shows a toppled-over heart shape with a bullet hole in it. “Let’s hope our push for change lasts longer than these wilting flowers” says another sign surrounded by bouquets of daisies and roses.

When I was at the memorial, a group was singing “Amazing Grace,” Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” and the Beatles song “Let It Be.”

There were posted notices offering contacts for free crisis counseling. Sky, a registered therapy dog, did his part by letting dazed and teary-eyed visitors pet his warm, alive little body.

I stopped to pet Sky, a trained therapy dog. ©Laurel Kallenbach

The winds caused Mylar balloons tethered to the chain-link fence to tug to the east, then the west. Frigid gusts twisted the American flag on its pole so that it flew backwards. I thought about the grief, unyielding as a mountain, that the families of the slain were experiencing.

A Better Future?

I’ve almost given up hoping that gun laws will change, that automatic weapons will be banned, that stricter background checks will be required to buy guns. Boulder outlawed the sale and possession of assault weapons, but two weeks before the mass shooting, a court decided that our city couldn’t enforce the ban because only the state can regulate firearms in Colorado.

I used to believe the only way gun laws would change was if someone started shooting in congressional chambers. The insurrection at the US Capitol on January 6, 2021, proved me wrong.

So gun violence continues, as do the mass tragedies. What happened in Boulder has occurred in Columbine and Atlanta and Sandy Hook and Charleston and Pittsburgh and Virginia Beach and El Paso and Phoenix and Hamilton and Chattanooga and Roseburg and Aurora and Fort Hood and Thousand Oaks and Seattle and Sutherland Springs and Binghamton and Orlando and Norcross and Minneapolis and Virginia Tech and San Bernadino and Las Vegas and Parkland. A week after the Boulder shooting, Orange, California, was added to the list.

©Laurel Kallenbach

Will these shootings persist until every city and town in the nation has a memorial to the victims of people with guns?

I did take heart in hearing that a local Mennonite church, located just across Broadway from the King Soopers, held a Guns to Garden Tools event on Good Friday. It’s a project of the nonprofit RAWtools, which de-weaponizes donated guns and forges them into tools for planting. In the church parking lot, people got to pound a hammer on a section of a gun barrel over an anvil. 

For now, the time for cheering in Boulder is over. The time of mourning has begun.

While I’m observing my 10 minutes of daily silence for the slain, I touch into my center of calm, and my outlook brightens slightly. Perhaps good things will again be possible. After the meditation, I can believe for a few moments that maybe—just maybe—the “Let It Be” lyrics from the Beatles’s song I heard at the King Soopers memorial on a windy Sunday morning could come true:

And when the broken-hearted people

Living in the world agree,

There will be an answer, let it be.

Laurel Kallenbach, Boulder, Colorado

SOBO is an acronym for South Boulder, the neighborhood where the shooting occurred. ©Laurel Kallenbach