Hills, Heat & a Herd of Judgy Cows.
Day 8: Cotswolds Trail – Middleyard to Dursley – 14km
Another day, another B&B, and another absolute gem of a host!
Greencourt Loft in King’s Stanley wasn’t just a place to crash—it was a five-star hospitality experience, all thanks to the wonderful Sara.
Not only did she save me from a “help, I’m lost in the countryside” moment yesterday, but she also made sure I had everything I needed for a perfect stay.
Sara, if you ever decide to run the country, you have my vote.
With a full stomach and slightly sore legs, I set off, and—shocker—the day began with an uphill climb!
Remember how I got drenched in rain on Day 4? Well, today, by 9:30 AM, I was drenched again—only this time, it was sweat.
Humidity was off the charts, and my personal air-conditioning system (a.k.a. wishful thinking) was failing miserably.
And speaking of failures, my trail notes had officially given up on life.
After surviving a few too many folds, crumples, and questionable weather conditions, they now looked like they’d been through a washing machine.
But when you’re halfway up a never-ending incline, there’s only one thing to do—keep climbing!
And climb I did, until I finally reached the magical woodland.
Sure, the trail was still going up, but at least I had shade and that amazing damp-earth smell to keep me going.
Then, just as I thought my legs might officially file for resignation, I reached the top.
And wow—what. a. view. Stretching out before me was a breathtaking panorama, with the mighty Severn River shimmering below and Wales off in the distance.
It was the kind of view that makes every drop of sweat worth it (though my camera failed to do it justice, as usual).
At the summit, I stumbled upon a piece of ancient history—the Nympsfield Long Barrow, a Neolithic burial site from around 2,800 BCE.
Talk about old! Excavations had uncovered the remains of at least 13 people (including children), along with an arrowhead and some pottery.
It’s wild to think that this landscape has been home to humans for thousands of years—way before the charming 15th and 16th-century cottages I usually associate with the Cotswolds.
Moving on, I had yet another standoff with cows. Yes, again.
But today’s bovine roadblock felt…different. These cows were bigger, moodier, and looking at me like I’d personally offended them.
Was it the heat? My presence? The fact that I was covered in sweat and possibly smelled like an old hiking boot?
I wasn’t sticking around to find out. I took the “walk slow, don’t panic” approach and only snapped a photo once I was at a safe distance.
And of course, what goes up must come down. Just when I thought I was home free, the final hill of the day made an unwelcome appearance.
But I powered through, and my reward? Dursley!
A ridiculously charming village with the best lunch spot ever—an indie café called (wait for it)… BANK!
Sofas, books, delicious food, and coffee? Absolute heaven.
Now, you’d think that after all that, I’d be done with hills for the day.
Nope! To get to my incredible B&B, I had one last hill to conquer. Because, well, this is the Cotswolds!
See you tomorrow for more adventures (and hopefully, fewer hills)!
