Next stop on the Cotswold caper was Fossebridge, a hamlet comprising a btidge and a hotel for folk too posh for Bourton-on-the-water (is that even possible ?).
Keen readers of “Notes from a small island” will know that Bill Bryson came here to unveil Roman mosaics at Chedworth; I came here for an irritating middle-class hotel bar tick, which is more impressive.
It looks exactly the sort of place that Hugo and Henrietta drive out from Cheltenham to dine at.
It’s nice to have a pub in the Guide with 6X and Butcombe on the bar;
it’s less good to have a pub in the Guide with EVERY table with a RESERVED sign on it.
Despite ALL the tables having RESERVED signs, there was only one table actually in use, with a nuclear family being licked by the pub dog while they perused the menu. The dog was called Maisy,you’ll be pleased to know.
The pleasant landlord recommended the Windrush, so I had that, seated at the bar, enjoying the sound of “Staying Alive” competing against the BBC News (score draw).
Jam jars, reserved signs, a dog called Maisy; you guess what I thought of it.