Cotswolds revisited part 2.

During my recent trip to England to visit my second home as mentioned before, my gorgeous bestie Little One took me for a surprise adventure to the Cotswolds. Neither of us had visited before and we had just the most glorious time.

I wasn't told anything until our journey had begun. The surprises just kept unfolding: we're going to the Cotswolds, BANG; our first stop on the way will be the biggest antiques fair you've ever seen, OMG; then to Oxford for early lunch, BOOM; we're camping in paradise (I LOVE camping), AAAAARGHH; and so on and so on. Aren't I too, too spoilt?

The pics above are from one of my absolute favourite stops, the gorgeous village of Shipston-on-Stour, which was actually just outside the Cotswolds but firmly burrowed inside my fiery heart.

p.s. another dream home, picture two. Ahhhhhhh.

Cotswolds revisited part 1.

While half of the world's fashion media was traipsing around the Cotswolds in the lead up to a certain K. Moss's wedding I was traipsing around taking photographs and, as you know, antique treasure hunting.

We ate flaky-pastry pies and read vintage books in the sunshine, marvelled at the freshly-learned factoid that the Queen apparently owns every single swan in the country and sipped cold cider on warm afternoons.

I'm determined to go back for an extended camping trip next July. Wanna come?

Disclaimer: I get first dibs on all goods during treasure hunting expeditions.

Brains and bikes.

I kind of geeked out in England.  Kind of actually meaning big time.  As if an early morning visit to Cambridge wasn't enough, I *may* have also strolled Oxford's cobbled streets.

What is it with bikes and brains?  There has to be some explanation that goes beyond the obvious.  Is it more conducive to keeping an open mind?  Do big-brains need more air?

Hmmm...

I loved it.  Even the rain.

Shakespeare.

When I was about 14 or 15 I developed a strange obsession with Shakespeare.  I'm not sure where it came from but I read virtually everything.

Although the obsession has long since turned to mere admiration in normal doses, last month I visited his hometown - Stratford-upon-Avon - and it was *lovely*.  We walked along the river, dined in the oldest pub where countless beers had been chugged and spilled, and, of course, admired the old lanes.

It was glorious.  Well worth another visit.

Braintown.

It was a very early English summer morning when we drove into Cambridge. Golly it was so lovely to stroll the streets without too much company.

Wouldn't you just be so inspired living in one of the apartments behind those little windows overlooking the river?

I bought my first first edition book at the markets where this seafood stall was and gorgeous homemade cakes for afternoon tea.

Our only issue was that it was too early for the chocolate shop to be open...

Second homes.

I think the concept of home has shifted so much in recent years. Although my childhood home will absolutely always be home, after travelling so much I do feel at home in a many different spaces.

One of my favourite second homes belongs to the MMs in the English countryside. Aka base camp for my treasure hunts. And, I fear, the scene of future dance-off crimes.

Oh, the glories of waking up on a misty English summer's morning. 'Til next year, adieu.

First Stop: Cotswolds

These lil pics are actually from our last stop in the Cotswolds but I was desperate to share these now.

Who can walk past a church bake-up?

In a sleepy, little village where they have a weekly market stall, they also had the sweetest group of ladies manning stalls for little treats, including a cup of tea and a cheesy scone that we bought.

Oh, and some lavender for 20 pence that kept us company in the car all the way home.

We smiled. A lot.

English paradise.

I'm going through the THOUSANDS of photos I took on my 6-week English countryside adventure.  Will be posting some gorgeous ones of the Cotswolds.

But, in the meantime, some pics of my last train ride on a rainy, melancholic day.

Ah...the joys of a country fete!

A couple of weeks ago I stumbled into a country fete in the 'garden of England' - Kent - just south of London.

I was instantly transported back to my childhood.  There were old vintage cars, a bric-a-brac stall (that I spent a lot of time at I must say!), yummy cakes and even a Spitfire flyover.  Absolutely heavenly.