Getting Beyond the Familiar #2: We Begin Walking Part D

I am in the dining room of the Swan Hotel at 7:30, opening time, though my preference is to be on the trail by now. I am the first one seated. Soon, an elderly couple strides in, and they sit near the window. They discuss having eggs. Moments later a young American couple enters. From the looks of it--haircut and tattoos--the man is in the military. They look at their copy of the same guidebook I have, and I hear them say that their destination that day is Old Sodbury--where I am headed.

Continuing with my habit, I wrap bacon and ham in a napkin so that I can eat it for lunch later. And soon enough I am walking again--a 13-mile hike, which seems short compared to yesterday's 17 miles. Leaving town, this section of the walk takes me by St. Mary the Virgin church, erected in the 13th century.  The church looks like this:

It is not long until I am in the countryside again: bucolic, verdant. I try to figure my pace, knowing that I have at least 13 miles to hike. I keep telling myself to stop and enjoy the view. Often while backpacking I find that I need at least 3 days to leave the noise and speed of society behind, to not worry about the time of day. I think: stop when you are tired; eat when you are hungry. But I persist. And soon I come across a small waterfall, which looks like this:

The weather is good all day--even a bit too warm. Hours later I follow the Cotswold Way signposts through another churchyard, St. John the Baptist, this one close to my destination of the Old Sodbury House. The churchyard looks like this:

I am tired and sweaty. I can hear people singing. I have stopped to take photographs, and a woman comes out of the church and smiles at me. I am aware of how I must look. "Hello," she says, and I reply the same. "We're just rehearsing. Feel free to come inside. We'll be serving refreshments afterward, and you're more than welcome to join us." I think I misquote the bible: "That's where the joyous noise is coming from." She laughs.

I remove my hat. I take a chance and step into the church, finding a pew toward the back. I am aware of how I must look, that old-man-hiking kind of thing. My legs are tired. Thankful for the respite, I listen to a couple of songs and then gather hat and backpack and sneak out as quietly as I can. I orient my map and head downhill, where I encounter a young woman. "Where's the trail?" she asks. I point the way that I am going, and she strides quickly ahead. The path is not far from the Old Sodbury House, and not much later I greet the hosts, a husband-and-wife team about my age. They are cheerful and welcoming. They mention that I am only a mile or so from Chipping Sodbury, and old market town. "You've walked so far already today, another couple of miles won't matter," I am told.

I relax in my room for a while. I shower away as much old age as I can. Outside again, I head in the direction of Chipping Sodbury, a place that I think I would like to spend more time. I stop in a pub and ask if they are serving food, and I am told that they are not. Down the rode I try my luck again, but I am told the same thing. So, I settle for a pint of beer, a good chair, and a soccer game on the large TV. Back near the Old Sodbury House is the Dog Inn, which my guidebook recommends for food. I am happy to find that food is, indeed, available. I sit at a small table, another pint of beer in front of me as I wait for my food. I watch people interact. Dinners by myself have gotten lonely, but that is what one gets during solo travel.

My legs are quite tired. I have walked many miles today.