They say travel broadens the mind. I’ve climbed volcanos and sheltered from typhoons, explored cities and islands, arctic wastelands and arid deserts. So here I am, broad of mind and ready for anything, and my next assignment is… home? I grew up on the fringes of the Cotswolds. Its rolling hills and farmlands were the backdrop to my childhood. The villages of golden stone, replete with antiques shops and olde worlde pubs, weren’t tourist destinations but places we went to run errands and visit friends. Its attractions live in my memory not as national sites of interest, like Blenheim Palace – the only building not affiliated with the Royal Family despite the name – but as places where I learnt to ride a bike or climb a tree or worked holiday jobs (flocks of pheasants are beautiful but have you ever tried to get 50 of them to move out of the road while you’re late for work?). The Cotswolds isn’t a destination, it’s just my old neighbourhood.
from Mr Porter - The Journal https://ift.tt/fVzS4AY
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from Mr Porter - The Journal https://ift.tt/fVzS4AY
via IFTTT