The wood-panelled pub, the narrow streets, the clean air – give me a tiny village for my holiday any day
I am among those who have yet to escape what some are calling Plague Island (Britain) to travel abroad this year. I am considering it, but more likely I will stay in the country for a break. I was thinking: seaside. But now I am thinking: gorgeous village in the Cotswolds or Gloucestershire, or one of my favourite areas in the UK, the Lake District. I spent many childhood holidays in Ambleside, Hawkshead, Grasmere, Keswick, Kendal. Beautiful backdrops of rolling hills, tiny churches, houses in the Arts and Crafts style, streets no wider than a horse and cart, sheep somehow everywhere. On the doorstep, the deep blue of Windermere where we rowed to tiny islands to stop for lunch, dragging the boat to rest on the miniature beaches before tucking into sandwiches and paddling.
I find it impossible to be in low spirits when visiting such beautiful places. There’s something calming in the lack of pollution, the independent bookshops, the sense of community, the overwhelming quiet. I love a village. Or a hamlet. I also spent many a happy time in Egremont in Cumbria, but I just checked and it is classed as a “small market town”.
