When Plans Change, Magic Happens.
Day 10 – Cotswolds Trail – Wotton-under-Edge to Old Sodbury.
Woke up to a classic British morning.
Grey skies, relentless rain, and an ankle and knee protesting like I’d forced them into a bootcamp they never signed up for.
As I hobbled down the delightfully crooked stairs for breakfast, reality hit.
There was no way I was tackling another 20km today, especially with the trails turning into a slippery obstacle course.
And you know what? That was okay.
I wasn’t on some survival challenge—it was a vacation! A day off was exactly what I needed.
So, after a bit of logistical wizardry, I found my escape route.
A bus leaving at noon, dropping me just 1.5km from my B&B.
Doable, even with my dramatic limp. But that left me with a few hours to kill in Wotton-under-Edge.
Stepping outside my cozy 17th-century coaching inn, I wandered down the town’s charming high street, soaking in the historic vibes. That’s when I spotted the church tower of St. Mary’s.
It practically called to me. Normally, I’d snap a quick photo and move on, but today, with time on my hands and a drizzle in the air, I decided to step inside.
And wow—what a decision that was.
The moment I walked in, I felt transported. St. Mary’s has been standing since 1283, and its grand organ?
Once played by none other than Georg Handel himself, a gift from King George in 1726.
The air was thick with history, peace, and something I didn’t even realize I needed: a space to just be.
I sat in the stillness, and before I knew it, a wave of emotion hit me.
The pain, the hope, the weight of the past ten months—it all surfaced.
My prayers poured out, tears included. #BringThemHomeNow. Bring all the hostages back home NOW.
I lost track of time, but when I opened my eyes, the small group of locals who had been singing and praying were now gathered around for tea. One of them approached and, with that warm British kindness, invited me to join them.
As we chatted, I mentioned my injured ankle, and the minister, a kind and radiant woman, immediately offered to pray for my healing. I smiled and said yes—after all, a little extra divine intervention never hurts!
But when I mentioned I was Jewish, the room went momentarily very quiet.
Then, with a knowing smile, she said something that struck me to my core: “No religion has ownership of God or Spirit.”
That was it. That was the reason for today.
Not just a rest day, but a moment to release, to connect, to be exactly where I was meant to be.
The rest of the day? Pure serendipity.
The bus arrived on time, and the driver even suggested a better stop for my transfer.
Then, the second bus driver—clearly an angel in disguise—let me ride for free!
And when I finally arrived at my B&B? A stunning 17th-century manor house, complete with sprawling gardens and a solarium overlooking an orchard. The perfect haven to rest, recover, and recharge before the final stretch of this adventure.
Stay tuned—two more days to go!
