Should Zoos Still Exist?

When I was a child going to visit a zoo or wildlife park wasn’t really on my family’s radar. Don’t get me wrong my Mum, Dad and my Godmother all taught us about nature from growing our own vegetables and fruit to taking regular countryside walks.
My children are still amazed when we go out walking and I can name most of the wild flowers, birds and animals we come across.
When I was a child being brought up in the country this was just second nature, excuse the pun.
Crocuses, bluebells and wild garlic welcomed in the Spring, whilst fresh peas, tomatoes and lettuce from the garden meant summer was here and watching the leaves turn colour and drop off the trees heralded the onset of Autumn. Ultimately the absence of hedgehogs and squirrels meant hibernation for Winter had begun.

Our nearest zoo was in Bristol but I can’t remember my Mum ever taking us there. In fact I think my first visit to a zoo was when I was nineteen and my boyfriend -Phil (who I later became reacquainted with 33 years later and subsequently married) took me to London Zoo. It was my first ever trip to our capital city and I remember being amazed by the quantity and variety of animals on display.
That’s an interesting analogy “being on display” because actually on a recent visit to a local wildlife park (from which all the photos here were taken) that feeling that some of the animals and birds we saw were “on display” really hit me.

Having not been to my first zoo until I was nineteen I have more than made up for this since, having visited and then taken my own children when they were young, for example, to visit Bristol Zoo, Woburn Safari Park, Whipsnade Zoo and our favourite in the UK -Chester Zoo. To be honest there are so many animal sanctuaries, wildlife parks, zoos etc in the UK that we have visited I would be here forever listing them all.

On my travels abroad I’ve been to Paris Zoo, San Diego Zoo, Chicago Zoo to name but a few. I’ve also been fortunate to go on safari in South Africa twice.

But this most recent visit to a wildlife park really made me want to look into this idea further. Should zoos still exist?

The actual dictionary definition of a zoo is “an establishment which maintains a collection of wild animals, typically in a park or gardens, for study, conservation, or display to the public.”
There’s that phrase again “display to the public”.

One of the most important functions of modern day zoos, when you read all the literature on their websites, is supporting international breeding programmes, particularly for endangered species. In the wild, some of the rarest species have difficulty in finding mates and breeding, and they might also be threatened by poachers, loss of their habitat, predators and more so today by climate change that can actually bring about starvation through lack of food.
But there is a part of me that feels that whilst this sounds like a worthy argument to keep these species in captivity, is it really? I mean although breeding programmes enable a species to survive it’s not like the offspring will one day be put back into the wild. Surely in the majority of cases they would be too used to human contact? Additionally what right do we feel we have to capture, confine or breed them? If an animal is endangered does that justify us removing its freedom or should nature just be allowed to take its course?

The Freedom for Animals Organisation (freedomforanimals.org.uk) displays some interesting facts and statistics about conservation. By focusing on zoos in Wales, they carried out research which unearthed that just 9% of animals held captive are endangered and 17% are threatened in the wild. Have a look at their website, it makes interesting reading.

Another consideration is that in removing certain animals from the wild in order to conserve them, are we endangering those remaining by decreasing the gene pool and actually causing an increase in depopulation as a result which in turn could lead to an increase in extinction.

It must be incredibly challenging for an animal or bird to be stuck in a zoo. Surely it goes against their natural instincts? Will they ever find real happiness regardless of how much room they have, if inherently they are used to living in the wild? Are we doing this primarily for our own entertainment?
I like so many others have visited Sea World in Florida and sat and watched sometimes in awe as dolphins and whales performed for the vast audiences. I have also been fortunate to experience the joy of watching dolphins in the wild leaping out of the ocean as they swam alongside the boat in the Caribbean or watching whales breach the surface of the water in Monterey, California. I know which I would prefer but like I said I have been fortunate to experience this. Should others miss out because they cannot afford such adventures?

You often still see animals constantly walking back and forth, polar bears spring to mind. These animals in captivity can suffer from boredom and stress. Captivity can in no way compare to being free in the wild. It just seems so against their natural instinct and we even expect certain animals to exist outside of their natural climate. How on earth does an animal which by nature is used to a tropical rainforest manage in a cold, wet, windy English winter?

I can see the benefit from an educational perspective of the existence of zoos. Where else can a school age child learn about this vast array of animals etc and actually see them in the flesh? With the effects of climate change all around us, worldwide, this education also hopefully encourages empathy. Visitors may be more likely to readdress their outlooks and understand better the idea of an animal becoming extinct or may even change their habits to ensure environments currently being destroyed by the human race are saved.
But is this enough to substantiate their captivity?
There is an argument that with more and more technology children can acquaint themselves with wildlife through programmes such as “Planet Earth” rather than visiting zoos. Another option is searching the net for live webcams.
Having visited the elephant seals on the West Coast of California, for example, we became aware of “elephantseal.org” which allows you to watch the beaches live and also has access to Youtube videos and virtual field trips. This is not unusual, numerous wildlife organisations now transmit this type of media. The joy of this type of viewing is even though it is not there right in front of you, it is live and the animals are in their natural habitat.

Good zoos have high standards of welfare for their animals. Visiting an accredited zoo is better than visiting one which isn’t. For example, BIAZA ‘members are dedicated to “achieving the highest standards of animal care, conserving the natural world through research and conservation, and educating and inspiring their visitors.”
BIAZA , founded in 1966, is the British and Irish Association of Zoos and Aquariums; the professional body representing the best zoos and aquariums in Britain and Ireland. “We have over one hundred zoo and aquarium members who pride themselves on their excellent animal welfare, education and conservation work.”
“BIAZA contributes approximately £24 million to conservation projects each year.

Some wildlife centres and zoos even take in abandoned exotic pets and rehabilitate animals back into the wild. I think that is where my heart lies, actually releasing animals back into their natural environment.

Despite being in captivity it is not unusual, in fact it is sometimes common by nature, for animals to bond with each other. These bonds are then often broken when animals are moved for breeding purposes or sold to another zoo. How would you feel if you suddenly found yourself without your Mum, brother, sister or even friend? The stress this must cause animals doesn’t bear thinking about.
Again there are arguments that not all animals live in close proximity with others of the same breed in the wild so this is nothing different. However I’m not wholly convinced that this knowledge bears any weight if suddenly a zoo finds itself overrun with one particular breed of animal which then by necessity perpetrates a need to decrease the population and thus create movement.

There is also an argument that animals are better off in established, accredited zoos than being kept by private individuals who may not necessarily have the right knowledge or in depth understanding of such wild creatures.
Back in 2019 The Guardian reporter, Alex Hannaford, wrote an interesting article about the different rules prevalent in the USA: (https://www.theguardian.com/global/2019/nov/10/the-tiger-next-door-americas-backyard-big-cats#:~:text=An%20oft%2Dquoted%20statistic%20is,though%20there%20might%20be%20more.) .
The continent of North America is made up of a series of state, federal and county laws governing the ownership of such animals. The programme “Tiger King” which was watched worldwide exemplified this absurdity.
Whilst we were touring America last year we visited “Keepers of the Wild” wildlife conservation park who gave homes to many of these tigers. We actually began to understand from this park the main difference between this and a zoo. They basically give homes to such animals for the rest of their lives. They don’t breed them and they don’t sell them.
Whilst there is still an argument that these animals are being kept captive for the rest of their lives, isn’t this better than the alternative which would have been euthanasia?
This article is nearly five years old but has anything changed?

My research also uncovered other documentaries and films such as the 2013 Netflix film “Blackfish” which is a documentary about the killer whale “Tilikum” which brought into worldwide focus the issues with Seaworld and why changes needed to be made to these wild mammals kept in captivity.
I also came across an old Horizon programme which aired on BBC2 back in 2016 entitled “Should We Close Our Zoos?”. Whilst the full programme is unavailable you can watch excerpts from it still: Should We close Our Zoos?

It is not my place to conclude this post with directives to say it is ok to frequent zoos or not to visit zoos. This is your choice but as someone who grew up in the era when zoos were a normal part of childrens’ entertainment I would ask you to maybe stop, do a bit of your own research and come to your own conclusion. Think for yourself rather than being led by the crowds.
I do feel two things we should all be doing, however, is taking David Attenborough’s documentaries seriously and protecting the habitats of wild animals to ensure their survival in the wild. 
Secondly accepting our contribution both individually and as a collective for climate change and doing something however big or small to minimise it’s effects on the natural world within which these animals currently exist.

Spring is Here! Let’s Start Afresh

I’ve never really known when the first day of spring is. Have you?

Research tells me that the meteorological spring season started on March 1. However if you focus on the spring equinox, Tuesday March 19th marked the official start and for those who prefer the first full day of spring after the equinox then it was on Wednesday.
During the spring (or vernal) equinox in March, the sun’s direct rays cross Earth’s equator into the Northern Hemisphere. While it’s the first day of astronomical spring in North America, Europe and Asia, summer transitions to autumn in the Southern Hemisphere.

As a child brought up in the country for me it was far more than this.
It was that transition between the fire being lit every day to warm the living room and heat the water to days returning home from school with no more crumpets toasting on the fire and baths on a Sunday heated by the electric emersion heater.
It was and still is the first leaf buds appearing on the trees with the simple beauty of snowdrops gathered around the trunks and yellow and purple crocuses scattered amongst the grassy lawns. Walking through the woods and seeing the wood anemones closely followed in late March/early April by the distinctive smell of carpets of bluebells.

For me spring is definitely a time to say goodbye to those long winter months, often nowadays filled with endless rain and cold blustery weather rather than the drifts of snow I remember as a young child and teenager. It’s a time to beckon in warmer weather, to think about the new life we see all around us from the bouncing lambs in the fields to the nesting birds in the hedgerows. It definitely symbolises to me an opportunity for reflection, for taking stock of life and moving forward.

2024 has not been kind to my family thus far with a series of health issues, both mental and physical and a cancer that cut short a friends’ life within six weeks of diagnosis. It would be easy to dwell in this murky world full of tears, discontent and feelings of anger, hurt and even frustration with our NHS service but life does go on. You have to pick yourself up, look around you and be grateful for what you do have. If I ever need to capture that gratitude for life I venture out into the countryside.

As part of our plans for 2024 we decided to organise some one day visits to exhibitions, shows, sporting events and even a music festival.
Having previously been members of the National Trust here in the UK we opted this year instead to join the Royal Horticultural Society (RHS) as we do love to visit gardens full of different flowers giving off an array of beautiful smells and eye popping blooms. Being a member entitles you to free unlimited access to the RHS’s five main gardens but also over 200 partner gardens. As a result I recently found myself exploring Batsford Arboretum near Moreton-in-the-Marsh in the North Cotswolds..

Batsford Estate:
Spread across 60 acres the arboretum is not only home to a unique collection of some of the world’s most beautiful and rare trees, shrubs and bamboos but also allows fantastic views across the Batsford Estate. Although the house and grasslands are private and not accessible we still managed to stand and watch a beautiful herd of deer grazing on the new Spring grass.

The estate was inherited in 1886 by Algernon Freeman-Mitford, 1st Barton of Redesdale who travelled widely in Asia and, as a result, developed the garden as a “wild” landscape with natural plantings inspired by Chinese and Japanese practice. Mitford also built the 600 metre artificial watercourse which runs down the western side of the gardens as well as other features such as the hermit’s cave, rockeries, the thatched cottage and a Japanese Rest House, complete with rooftop dragon to ward off evil spirits! 

Towards the end of his life Algernon wrote his memoirs and described his garden and the significance of the Buddha statue, the bronze deer and the Rest House which he brought here in 1900 and are still in the Arboretum.

When he died in 1916, he was succeeded by David Freeman-Mitford, who was father of the famous Mitford sisters who lived at Batsford during World War I. Nancy Mitford based the early part of her novel Love in a Cold Climate on their time at Batsford.

The gardens were somewhat neglected during the two great wars and it was in the hands of one of it’s successive owners, Frederick Anthony Hamilton Wills, the 2nd Lord Dulverton, that it was brought back to its former glory. He was passionate about forestry and trees and set about restoring the garden to its former glory, replanting the garden with trees in particular and creating the bones of the arboretum you can see today. 

With a choice of paths and walks to navigate depending upon your ability, our Springtime visit brought forth impressive displays of spring flowering bulbs – from carpets of snowdrops, aconites, hellebores, daffodils and narcissi, to the just budding blossom of the magnolias and the occasional grape hyacinth.

If you ever need to reevaluate life take yourself off into nature. Focus on what you have rather than what you don’t have. Listen to the birds, the gentle trickle of the stream as it flows downhill and the beauty all around you.
Life goes on, the Spring flowers peak through the soil, the leaves bud on the trees and the birds continue to line their nests ready for their new offspring.
Like winter shrug off all those cold, hard feelings and look towards the sunshine.
I’m an Aquarian so the future will always hold wonderment to me but as I stand on the bridge overlooking the flowing stream I remind myself to be grateful for the love of my family, for my happiness and well being and most of all for still being here welcoming in another Spring.

 

The NHS War Zone

Before I begin this post, based upon my opinion, I want to preface it by referring you to a previous post I wrote, back in February 2023, entitled “Life Experience vs The Tabloids: https://amidlifeadventure.org/2023/02/18/opinion-life-experience/

The opinion I am voicing here is based upon fact not on what I have read in the media or listened to on the TV.

I am in my midlife, as is hubby and we have both contributed fully each month, throughout our working lives, to the National Insurance fund with the expectation that should we, at any time, need NHS care it would be provided free, efficiently and effectively. We are both physically fit, eat healthily, don’t drink and have never smoked and until last Friday night had barely ever needed NHS care.
In my case I was given BUPA private health care throughout my thirty year career so I was, it could be argued, contributing throughout that period of time in my history, to an NHS that I didn’t actually need.

Fast forward to 3 am on Friday March 8th and hubby feeling sick, got up and went to the bathroom. We think he got as far as the bathroom doorway before collapsing forwards and face planting the floor, hitting his face on the bath on the way down!
My daughter and I were awoken by the bathroom door ricocheting off the toilet and having found him bleeding, with part of his lower lip hanging off (excuse the graphics) and initially knocked out, we called an ambulance.
The Ambulance Service, in the UK, is funded by the NHS and as funds have become more and more stretched various county ambulance services have been amalgamated together to save on costs. In our area we share our ambulance service with parts of the neighbouring county of Wiltshire.
From the time of our call at 3:07 a.m. to assessment on scene and then transportation to our nearest Accident and Emergency (AnE) Hospital in Gloucester, about thirty minutes drive away, it took about an hour and forty minutes, arriving at 4.45 a.m.
With the ambulance service under more and more pressure this is actually quite an achievement and both female attendees were fantastic.

The AnE was busy and having been booked in, we joined the queue to be seen.
As the night wore on and the sun began to rise we took advantage of the fact that my daughter had accompanied him in the ambulance and I had driven in separately. This had given me an opportunity to pack some water, coffee and tea along with our iPads to keep ourselves occupied.
Others were not so prepared and relied on the ever decreasing vending machine supplies. Once my son was up and about he came to pick his sister up to avoid her waiting with us and taking up more room.
At 9 a.m. ( four hours into our visit) I took myself off to the main hospital and located a coffee shop for more hot drinks and a couple of morning pastries.
By 11 a.m. (six hours in) I dared to actually go and enquire at the nurses’ station how much longer we were going to wait. Luckily my husband’s mouth had stopped bleeding although it was now swelling along with his left eye. I was dutifully told the wait from arrival was 8 hrs!
The waiting room had continued to fill up and patients were now sitting on the floor, leaning against the walls and clogging the corridor from the entrance. Looking around me I just couldn’t believe I was actually sitting in an AnE in the UK.

The staff were doing their utmost best and at no time would I criticise their professionalism, friendliness or aptitude but they were so outnumbered, it was honestly unreal.
The throng of patients waiting ranged from late teenagers to quite elderly folk who had been parked in wheelchairs and just left. No one to look after them, no relatives with them, just left to wait with the rest of us. At least two of these gentlemen were affected by a dementia type illness. One thought he was in a World War II air raid shelter and the other kept telling everyone that his sons had deliberately left him here and how evil they were.
Some people were evidently affected by drugs or alcohol with one young lady constantly being sick into the cardboard bowls provided. Others were suffering from mental illness with one lady arguing with her imaginary friend.
The alarm for the public toilet went off twice during our stay and on neither occasion did anyone come to investigate? The first time I went around to the nurses station and the second time someone else did. This second time the man inside came out and then collapsed on the floor having a heart attack!
It felt like a war zone, like we were all taking refuge within these four walls in the hope of getting some help at some point.

At 12.45 p.m. (eight hours after arrival), my husband, as projected, was seen by an AnE doctor She was concerned about the reason for his collapse more than his wounds and it soon became apparent that he had a heart murmur. Something we had previously never had a clue about.
This meant he wasn’t going to be allowed to leave so she suggested I went home and gathered toiletries and clothes for his imminent stay. In the meantime she would contact the specialist cosmetic consultant needed to stitch up his face.
During this initial eight hour stint in AnE we were offered only one drink. I made sure, therefore, I returned with food and drink reinforcements and grabbed myself a shower and a change of clothes, arriving back at the hospital at 5 p.m. (12 hours since original arrival).
The stitching had been completed but the consultant was concerned about the impact of the fall and requested an X-ray on his face as well as his chest, along with a CT scan of his head.
These were duly completed and then we had to wait for a bed.
At 7 p.m. (14 hours since original arrival) I took another trip to the nurses station and determined that all beds were taken for the night and that we would have to wait in AnE until the morning!
As the night stretched before us and being a Friday night it just got busier and busier so hubby suggested that I go home. I felt incredibly guilty for leaving him alone amongst the chaos.

Saturday morning dawned and on telephoning I found he had been taken out of the main AnE room overnight and placed in an area with half a dozen reclining chairs where he had spent the night fitfully sleeping.
He suggested I didn’t rush back so I returned early afternoon in the hope that he would have some good news.
Armed with more food and drink and a face cloth and soap I headed, with my son, back to the hospital.
Arriving at 2.30 p.m. (31.5 hrs since first drop off) and using the public toilet I washed hubby’s still bloody face and assisted him in changing out of his blood stained clothes into fresh underwear and pyjamas. No progress had been made in finding him a bed and so the AnE room became home again for the afternoon, with the three of us taking it in turns in trying to relieve the boredom and ensuring hubby was fed and watered.
Finally a nurse came across to him and told him to prepare for transfer upstairs to a ward. It took 38 hours for him to finally be placed in a bed connected to a heart monitor!

Having visited him every day since we are no further forward. He has been checked over by three different consultants who have all told him the same “You have a heart murmur and need an echocardiogram, however, there is a queue! If we allow you to return home there is a risk that you could collapse again and the current waiting list for this procedure if completed via outpatients is eight weeks!”

This folks is the state of our current NHS. It’s quite honestly frightening. I want to make it clear that the staff are not to blame. We cannot fault anyone we have met thus far.
The fault, instead, lies with successive Governments who have not budgeted correctly for a free service that continues to evolve, in terms of its capability to cure patients and discover ever more evolutionary operations and procedures. It hasn’t built sufficient hospitals to manage the ever increasing need from an expanding population that lives longer.

Gloucester Royal Hospital, for example, lies within the South West NHS region, is one of the six noted trauma hospitals for this region and is one of the largest trusts within the South West. The county is predominantly rural, with an area of 1,220 sq miles.

The hospital opened in 1912 with 149 beds serving a population of just over 321,000, it now has 683 beds serving 916,000 people. However we have an increase in life expectancy. In 1912 a man was expected to live until 51 years, now this stands at 81 years. Therefore a bigger percentage of the population is utilising the NHS for longer.
Significantly when you look at the historic figures in 2018, 106 years after it had opened the population reached 633,500 nearly double that of 1912 but in the last 5 years it has grown by another 45% and herein lies part of the problem. As a country we are consistently building more and more houses without the supporting infrastructure.

Gloucestershire has a growing population and more people living longer, all drawing on the same NHS resources. The opportunities to expand the hospital are limited.Like other hospitals built in the last century it sits in the middle of a major city where land is now limited.
So where do we go from here?

Having contributed to the NHS via my National Insurance for nearly 40 years I’m angry that in reaching this stage in my life when I’m most likely going to need it’s services I don’t feel it is fit for purpose and probably never will be again.
In my opinion there is no longer a choice for younger people. If you want efficient and effective medical care you are going to have to join BUPA or some other similar scheme and pay monthly for it. My only hope is that in doing so you get the opportunity soon to opt out of that part of your National Insurance that currently goes towards the NHS.

Why Do I Struggle To Put Myself First?

When I decided to set up this blog I thought it would be so easy.
After all I enjoy writing and how hard can it be to write about activities I’ve enjoyed, places I’ve been to or to express an opinion about something?
The answer is Hard! Sometimes Very Hard!

Why? Because even though I’m a midlife adventurer who has retired from full time employment, finding time for myself is still no easier. Sometimes I wonder how I ever had time to go to work!

I’ve read several articles on the subject of “Putting yourself first” and attempted to delve into the reasons why this might be the case for me but I still find it so hard. I’m coming to the conclusion that it’s a learnt behaviour. The good news is anything learnt can be unlearnt but where to start? How has this learnt behaviour come about?

For me it’s that “Manager and Mum” syndrome that I’ve spoken about previously in my posts.
I was a single Mum for thirteen years with two children to raise. I got up each day as a “Mum’ and tried to ensure my children had a nourishing breakfast before getting them ready for school, dropping them off and then changing “hats”.
Heading back to my car I would take off the “Mum” hat and put on the “Manager” hat and head off to work for a minimum of eight hours. I was fortunate to afford a daily nanny but she only worked when I was working and the children weren’t at school. Anytime outside of this I swapped “hats” again and became “Mum”.
Don’t get me wrong I loved spending time with my children. The school holidays were an absolute joy because on my day off I didn’t have to put an alarm clock on to wake us up and we just got up when we woke up.
I got myself in a rhythm. As soon as the day arrived each year when we could book our holidays for the forthcoming year my pre-prepared holiday applications went in. It tended to work on a “first come, first served” basis and with plenty of paid holiday to take I would book February Half Term, May Half Term, October Half Term, two weeks in the school Summer Holiday and one week at Easter. This still left me an odd week to take elsewhere or break down into days if I needed them at short notice should one of the children become ill.

Holidays at Christmas, a busy period in the entertainment and gaming industry, were off limits so I would ensure I was off at least a half day on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day when we were closed and Boxing Day and then would happily work New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day.
It was far from easy and as previously mentioned, in one of my early posts, when I was asked how to describe my life on a company development course I attended, I quite aptly described myself as “a professional juggler”. I often had so many balls in the air that it wasn’t a case of being careful not to drop one but more a case of which one to catch first!

I had little or no familial support as the first ten years of their lives was spent on the opposite side of the country to my own family. I smile these days when I listen to millennial parents talking about “date nights” or “a night away” where grandparents look after their children so they can be alone together. Maybe this is the future, maybe divorce rates for this new group of parents will decrease because they understand the need to spend time together as a couple without the children in tow.
The first time I left my children to do something for myself, a weekend away in Jersey, was when my oldest child was about eight years old and that came about because I had a really good daily nanny who also became a friend and offered to give me this time off.

Days off in the week were spent catching up on the normal boring household tasks like housework, washing, food shopping and home admin.
Days off at the weekend or in school holidays were centred around the children. I always strived to give them as normal a life as I could despite being a single parent. In school holidays when I was working I would take every Wednesday off so the children knew that at least one day during the week we would always have time together to go out and enjoy ourselves. I tried to keep a balance between paid days out like theme parks, bowling, cinema etc and free days out where we would go walking, have a picnic, visit country parks and immerse ourselves in nature etc. It was important for them to grow up understanding that fun wasn’t only associated with money.

In the days before computer diaries existed I also remember keeping a Filofax where I would keep a track of my life by writing entries associated with the children like parents evenings, nativity plays, children’s birthday parties etc in red.
Red, because it stood out and my children were a priority. I spent a lot of time each week away from them and key events in their life were really important to me.
Entries associated with work were in orange and those relevant to my own life like doctor’s appts or the odd coffee with a friend when the children were at school were in green.

When I reflect upon this life I can blatantly see why “putting myself first” wasn’t a priority. I simply didn’t have the time. I barely had time to fit everything in. If I was working a full day, returning home between 11.30 pm and 12.30 a.m. was not unusual. The children would be fast asleep in bed and my alarm still went off at 6.20 a.m. regardless to get up and start again.

I know I am not unique. There are hundreds of parents out there in a similar situation or worse but maybe that is why so many of us Mums are rubbish at putting ourselves first.
On the odd occasion when I was so tired that I would return from the school run, make a cup of tea and then find myself engrossed in a good book or a series I might have recorded on TV, I remember putting down the book or switching off the television and feeling incredibly guilty. Guilty that I had wasted time that I should have spent doing other home related stuff.
Guilt wouldn’t be the only feeling though. I would also feel stressed later because, by not attending to my home workload, I would have doubled my tasks for my next day off or have to catch up in the evening when the children were in bed. There always seemed to be a price to pay for putting myself first!
When I used to discuss my dilemma with friends they often used to ask me “What happens when you run out of steam? Who will take care of the children then? I never had an answer and to be honest it didn’t really resonate with me so nothing changed.

So given my history and this learnt behaviour how do I start to change this now I’m retired? Slowly!
It takes time to plan self-care and often you’ve already run out of time in the day and its bedtime before you know it. Then you’re restless and not sleeping properly because all those thoughts go through your head about the things you didn’t get done today and what’s facing you tomorrow. You beat yourself up because you feel like you’ve failed or you’re not on top of everything. This behaviour becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy and begins to feel like the hamster wheel that you can’t get off.

I have tried so many times to address this issue since I’ve been retired. What I have realised is that the more I do and the less I take time for myself the more unhappy I become, so it is becoming important to find a solution.

I know that trying to take a moment for myself doesn’t work. I might sit down with a cup of tea with the intention of taking a breather and then a thought will pop into my head about getting something done or I’ll notice something in the room that needs doing. Then instead of staying in the moment, relaxing and enjoying my tea, I’ll get up and do whatever it is I’ve thought about and once again I’m on the go and that break in my day is lost.

That also applies to taking holidays. When I was working it was very hard to take a holiday at home because it never turned into a holiday, it just became another long list of things to do that I’d not had time to do in normal life. That still somewhat applies now I’m retired. We had made plans, in our joint retirement for example, to go out one day a week, spend time together doing something we enjoyed. Since last September we’ve probably done this about half a dozen times!

During my working life I often had to make changes to the way I worked maybe because some legality changed or my new direct report had a different way of working so I know I’m capable of change.
I always found the “divide the cake up into slices” worked for me. Trying to manage a complete change all in one go didn’t work but break it down into a dozen smaller tasks and address them one by one and it did.
I’m in the process of trying this at the moment. My previous post ” New Year’s Resolutions Have Come Early this Year” highlights the changes I need to make to my health and wellbeing in order to self medicate my osteoarthritis and I’m gradually delivering on these by addressing one change at a time and then gradually building on this. Admittedly this will take me longer to deliver the whole plan than if I did it all at once but the end goal is to deliver and I know if I try and make all the changes at once which all require me to focus upon myself I’ll fail, so gently does it.

I think one of the other failings of putting yourself first is that its such an alien concept to you that you don’t actually know what you need, what will help you or even what will make you happy.
Ultimately that is the first thing I’ve realised I need to figure out.
My priority over the last couple of weeks has been to switch off the television in the evening. We never watch it when we are away travelling so why do we do it when we are at home?
I’ve then been using this time to start doing some hobbies which have ranged from Sodoku to knitting whilst listening to my many unopened vinyl records to reading to learn. I have a few specific topics that I’ve always wanted to learn more about. I’ve bought the books when we’ve been away travelling or received them as Christmas/ birthday gifts and they have just sat on the bookshelf. I’ve now taken them down, dusted them off and begun to read and increase my knowledge.
When I was talking to a single friend recently she enlightened me that the reason I’ve not adopted hobbies, in the past, is probably because I’ve had children. She looks around at all her friends with families and has noticed this trend.
Parents particularly Mums, and even more single Mums, spend so much time amusing their children and catching up on mundane tasks after their children are in bed, that they don’t have personal hobbies.
This same friend is loving retirement because she is spending even more time than she did when she was working doing things she enjoys and increasing both her hobby time and the hobbies she does. It sounds so simple but what a revelation that conversation was to me!

I feel she is right also in that no one knows exactly what you need but you. But what if you’ve never had the time to figure that out because you have spent all your time running around ticking off those home to-do-lists and caring for family? What if you’ve never lost yourself in an enthralling hobby that has caused you to totally lose track of time because you couldn’t afford to lose track of time?
Furthermore when you don’t know what you need, what hobbies you enjoy and therefore what makes you happy then the people around you soak up your time because they are used to you having that time for them.

I’ve actually started to take time for myself in the mornings. This feels really rewarding after previously rushing out of bed to the sound of the alarm. Now I have a cup of tea in bed whilst catching up on my social media or reading a book/magazine. It sets me up far better for the day ahead. When I have to get up, grab a shower, dress and get out the door I feel so rushed and it can actually put me in a bad mood for the rest of the morning.

I love a bubble bath. I think this also stems from being a single Mum. To run a bath, chill out and read a book particularly of an evening when the children were asleep always felt like an enjoyable indulgence. It’s something I’m trying to consciously do more of. It’s like hanging up a sign on the bathroom door and saying “I’m Not Available or Do Not Disturb”. People just leave you alone. Peace n quiet!

One thing that does work for me is to pencil in time for myself to do something specific. For example I often find writing a post is easier if no one else is at home or if I can take myself off to a coffee shop. It allows me to focus on what I’m doing and I don’t suffer the aftermath guilt because I’m proud of what I have produced and posted.

As time moves on and I begin to enter what is probably the last quarter of my life, being in control of my time and maximising my happiness becomes even more important. I’ve never wanted to be one of those people who vegetate at home, whiling away my time and basically sitting in God’s waiting room. It’s really important to me to do things I enjoy.

Whilst we have no major trips planned this year, we have decided to pursue a number of one day events that we’ve previously expressed an interest in but rarely if ever managed to go and do. I guess you could call them mini adventures.
We managed that this week when we took my daughter, as part of her birthday celebrations, to the “Wildlife Photographer of the Year” exhibition which is currently on tour and available quite local to us. The photos included in this post are all from there.

One other idea that lies dormant in my mind is rekindling something I used to do before I met my husband, when my children were old enough to be left on their own for a few days, and that is to get away on my own.
I enjoy my own company and sometimes still crave that “alone time”. It’s like your own personal adventure. Time to think, to relax, to not have to think about anyone else and most of all to chuck away the clock. Have you ever tried that?
Have you ever got up when you wake up with no regard to the time, eaten when you are hungry and not because its lunchtime or dinnertime, gone to sleep when you are tired and not because its bedtime. It’s a very freeing experience to return to a simple life when the time of day was not relevant and everything was governed by nature. Perhaps I’ll do that again one day, put myself first and take myself off on my own little adventure……..

The Cotswolds -The Roman Town of Cirencester

I was recently visiting my daughter, who at the time was in Lincolnshire.
Traversing across the country from West to East I found myself bypassing Leicester and then driving along the A46. This is weird I thought, the A46 runs from Bath to Stroud back in The Cotswolds from whence I have come?
When I returned home I had to research this and I discovered the A46 is basically an old Roman Road that runs from Bath, in the South West to Cleethorpes and Grimsby in the North East. It’s amazing how much the Romans built in order to move their armies across Britain. This peeked my interest and so I headed off to Cirencester, my nearest Roman town to discover more.

Parking in Cirencester isn’t that easy. It’s worth checking it out on line before you arrive. We parked in the long stay car park at Sheep Street. Compared to other towns and villages nearby it is also more expensive at £7.90 for five and a half hours.
The advantage for parking here though is that it is only a four minute walk to our first destination –The Corinium Museum in Park Street and also presents an opportunity for a good circular navigation of the town.
Look out for Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen’s interior design shop en route. Also nearby you can see the blue Historic Cirencester sign denoting the original Cirencester Grammar School frequented by Edward Jenner, founder of the smallpox vaccine and often credited with saving more lives than any other man in history.

Corinium was the Roman name for Cirencester. The joy of this museum is that it is presented in chronological order and takes you right back to the beginning of prehistoric times and brings you all the way through the ages up to modern Britain.

Starting our journey through the museum, aided by an audioguide, I am firstly impressed to discover that people existed in this area from around 900,000 years ago, a period known as the Palaeolithic (Old Stone Age). There was extreme climatic change at this time with ice sheets advancing and retreating and sea levels rising and falling. Britain was joined to mainland Europe during the coldest spells.

Early modern humans adapted to these climatic conditions and exploited the natural resources available in Britain. In the Cotswolds, the evidence for the first people comes from the discovery of a small number of handaxes. These were butchery tools made and used around 200,000 years ago, probably by Neanderthals. Modern humans first appeared in Britain around 40,000 years ago.

Around 10,000 BC the environment became warmer and temperatures stabilised. Sea levels rose and, by 6,000 BC, Britain had become an island. This period is known as the Mesolithic Era or Middle Stone Age.
The local woodlands provided an ideal environment for hunting animals and gathering plants, fruits and nuts which attracted hunter-gatherers to the Cotswolds who set up seasonal camps. .

In addition over 70 Neolithic long barrows have been discovered in Gloucestershire, the majority of which sit in The Cotswolds. A display within the museum clearly shows one such long barrow -the South Chamber of the Hazleton North Long Barrow, the excavation of which took place between 1979 and 1982. This long barrow had two stone chambers, north and south. The chambers contained human bones, which were moved around when further bodies were added. A small number of stone tools, pottery shards and items of jewellery were found alongside the human remains.

An early Bronze Age Beaker burial, dated to 2,400 – 2.100 BC, was also discovered at Kingshill North on the edge of Cirencester. This has revealed interesting information in that the teeth of the female skeleton, aged between 30-40 years old, showed that she was born on the chalklands of southern England. This means that she was not from the Cotswolds and had travelled a long way to live here. A fine decorated Beaker vessel was found within the grave and a cow hide was used to cover it. This was then covered by a large round barrow measuring 12 metres across.

The museum leads us on into the Roman era. The first two campaigns to Britain were in 55 and 54 BC led by General Julius Caesar himself. For the majority of Britons this would have been their first sight of an organised army, which must have left a lasting impression. It was almost a hundred years before the Romans returned to Britain.
In 43 AD Emperor Claudius sent an army of 40,000 men to conquer Britain. These men were well equipped, trained and disciplined. Within this army were separate legions each consisting of 5,300 men, who were in turn supported by auxiliary regiments drawn from all over the Roman Empire. The recruits included specialists such as slingers, archers and cavalrymen.
The Britons were defeated in two major battles which resulted in the surrender of a number of tribes from across Britain. One of these was probably the local Dobunni tribe.

Corinium Dobunnorum, Roman Cirencester, was the second largest town in Roman Britain. Its walls eventually enclosed 96 hectares. The town was the tribal capital and administrative centre for the Dobunni, the pre-Roman local tribe. It has been estimated that it had a population of between 10,000 and 20,000. This compares to modern day Cirencester which has a population of around 18,000.
Soon after the conquest of Britain, the Roman Army established forts and later a road network to help with communication and supplies. The main Roman roads identified in Cirencester are Ermin Street, the Fosse Way and Akeman Street.

Corinium had one of the largest amphitheatres in Roman Britain. Oval in shape it had two entrances on the long axis, one in the northeast and one in the southwest. Constructed in the early 2nd century AD. it was a centre for entertainment and events, which could hold the entire free adult population of the town. Favourite attractions probably included gladiatorial combat, bear-baiting, animal hunts, boxing and wrestling.
The seating banks, originally rising to 10 metres, had tiers of wooden seats laid on low dry stonewalls.It is assumed that the rear terraces were for standing spectators and it is estimated that this amphitheatre could accommodate 8,000 people. Whilst it fell into disrepair during the 4th century, its impressive remains are still visible to the southwest of the modern town centre.

Beautiful mosaic flooring is a constituent of any wealthy Roman household and the museum has some amazing examples.

Moving onto Early Saxon times. These type of settlements are rare in Britain but two were discovered locally. The first at at Sherborne House, Lechlade and a second at Bourton-on-the-Water. Excavations at Sherborne House revealed a large settlement stemming from the late 5th to the early 8th century AD.
Analysis of the remains here show that beef was the main source of meat in their diet and soil analysis shows they produced barley, wheat, flax and Celtic bean. There was also evidence of weaving, metal working and leather working.

Further information follows bringing the visitor into the reign of Henry 1 and then onto the development of the wool trade which began in the 11th century and flourished in the 14th century throughout The Cotswolds area. Cirencester was at the centre of this and wool was exported from here abroad through London, Bristol or Southampton.

More information follows bringing you into the modern era.
I was really surprised by the quantity of exhibits and how much history sits within a few miles of this Roman town. The extent of the historic exhibits was worth the entrance fee and the couple of hours we spent there. I left with a greater appreciation of the history that surrounds me.

From the museum we walked less than five minutes to the medieval Church of St. John Baptist which stands proudly in the centre of this market town. This grade 1 listed building is well worth a visit reflecting various architectural styles since the 12th century. The oldest parts being the chancel and attached chapel.
Built from Cotswold stone, it is one of the “largest parish churches in England” and contains various tombs and monuments along with some fragments of medieval stained glass and wall paintings.
You can pick up a guided leaflet on entry and there is also normally a volunteer guide to hand to whom you can direct any questions. Don’t miss The Boleyn Cup made for Ann Boleyn in 1535.


From the church we wandered around the market place, admiring the statue of the two hares before partaking of some lunch and heading off to explore some of the small independent shops and the Cornhall Indoor Market.

Heading back towards the museum there are various side streets that branch off on your left with more modern, chain shops before you reach the end of the market place. Here you will find Castle Street and Black Jack Street which run parallel to each other and feature another array of independent shops, cafes and eateries to explore.

Once you have finished wandering around the cobbled streets you can return to the car park.

NB: This is the seventh post in my series about the wonderful “Cotswolds”. An area in the UK that you really shouldn’t miss out on visiting if you are coming to the UK. It’s full of olde world charm, history going back to the Roman era and beautiful architecture. Check out previous posts in this series plus more to come soon. 
Please don’t forget to comment and/or like. I love to hear what my readers think. and also look forward to your recommendations of places to see in the Cotswolds for my future adventures Thank you

The Cotswolds – The Roman City of Bath Spa

When you reach midlife it’s hard to think of something you want to do on your birthday.
We were suppose to be in Rome, a city I’ve visited twice before but hubby has never been to.
However following the arthritis diagnosis (see previous post: New Year’s Resolutions Have Come Early This Year!) and having still not seen a physio or consultant, at the point we should have flown out, I decided it was best to postpone this trip.
The last thing I wanted to do was to walk 5-7 miles a day for four days and then return to the UK and find one or both my knees had returned to the levels they were at last September. We have a preference on city breaks, in particular, for walking rather than taking public transport. The consequence would have no doubt been, that I would have had to start the resting and slow build exercise process all over again.

I decided instead to travel to Bath for the day with an overnight stay.
Bath is subject to the new Ulez regulations and charges and unlike anywhere else we have been before also bases its car parking charges on emissions as well. Payment for long term parking has to be done by cash or on line via an app and once you type in your car registration number it tells you how much you need to pay. You can only pay for 4 hrs, 6 hrs or 24 hrs.
It began to feel like we were being ripped off. Having arrived in the city at 10.30 we only really had the choice of paying 6 hrs or 24 hrs. If we paid for 6 hrs then we wouldn’t have time to eat an early dinner before returning to our Boutique BnB for the night so 24 hrs it was!

We had booked tickets for the Roman Baths for 11 am. It was school half term holidays and so it was busy. The theory of booking a date and time is a hangover from the Covid era when tourist places needed to limit the amount of people within the building. However this is obviously not the reason for this now as the first main room we entered was absolutely packed and you had to shuffle along at a snail pace in order to try and see the exhibits. I decided to skip this room and get ahead of the crowd which actually worked and I felt very little pressure for the rest of the tour.
Free audio handsets were a benefit although the narratives were a little extensive.

The spring at Bath was known to the pre-Roman Celtic people of Britain and was presided over by the Celtic goddess Sulis. When the Romans arrived, they called the site Aquae Sulis, “waters of Sulis,” and created a spa that became famous throughout the Roman world.
It was one of the great religious spas of the ancient world; the people of Roman Britain came to the site to bathe in the waters of the natural thermal springs, which still flow with hot water today. The hot mineral springs bubble up from the ground at temperatures well above 40 °C and the main one produces more than 1.3 million litres a day. 

Back in those days people attending would progress through the tepidarium, or warm room, and then through a set of increasingly hot baths-the caldarium before plunging into the cold bath or frigidarium and finally finishing by walking down the four steps into the warm, steamy water of the Great Bath. The Great Bath stood in an impressive hall and people would meet to chat whilst bathing or stroll along the paved floor around the pool. There were strategically placed corniches in the walls for sitting and watching the bathers without getting splashed.
The facilities were gradually enlarged over time to accommodate the number of pilgrims who traveled here from further afield and the complex remained in use until the fourth or fifth century, when the Saxons gained control of the area.

The baths were abandoned when the Romans withdrew from Britain with the complex being excavated from the 1870s onwards. Sited below the current street level, the Great Bath is now open to the sky and visible from the street.

It is an amazing feeling to be walking where so many ancient people trod before you.

From the baths we strolled along the road to the right to Bath Abbey.
The Abbey was founded as a Benedictine Monastery when the Saxons built an abbey on the site and in 973 AD Edgar was crowned the first king of all England. The Normans subsequently rebuilt the church between 1088 and 1122, transferring there the diocese they had founded at Wells. The bishop’s throne returned to Wells in 1206, and there was a long rivalry between the canons of Wells and the monks of Bath, of which the bishop was titular abbot. The diocese is still styled Bath and Wells.
The monks were committed to community life, a rhythm of prayer and welcoming visitors and although the Abbey is now a church it remains devoted to these principles.

It’s worth picking up a leaflet to guide you around the Abbey, to its eleven key points of interest.
To the right of the entrance you will begin your tour at the West window .Completed in 1894 it tells the stories of the first five books of the Bible.
Other highlights include the tomb of Bishop James Montague who requested to be buried here in order to encourage others to support the church.


As well as the 635 memorials that line the walls commemorating people from the 17 and 1800’s.
The fan vaulted ceiling is spectacular and was created by King Henry VII’s master masons.

The Abbey is well worth a visit, if for no other reason to once again tread where ancient feet have trod before you.

Leaving the abbey behind we headed off towards Milsom Street stopping off en route for a coffee and pastry. Our walk then took us past Union Passage and other small lanes of independent shops which are worth browsing en route.
Milsom Street, itself, was built in 1762. The buildings were originally grand town houses, but the majority are now used as shops, offices and banks. Most have three storeys with mansard roofs and Corinthian columns.
Being book readers our main focus was Waterstones which is the largest bookshop in the city. Since opening in the 1980s it boasts the largest range of books in the city with more than 55,000 titles spread across three floors. Being an ideal venue for book events it supports the annual Bath Literature Festival held in May each year.

From here we walk around the corner to the Jane Austen Centre at 40 Gay Street.
Housed in a beautiful Georgian house dating back to between 1735 and 1760 this is definitely the place to visit if, like me, you were enthralled by Jane’s novels when you were a teenager or watched the period dramas and films produced from her works.
The centre focuses upon the five years that Jane spent living and socialising in Bath, where she resided, the places she visited, as well as the locations which feature in her novels inspiring her lively wit and sharp satire.
The tour begins with an aptly dressed host explaining the Austen family tree within which Jane sits with some worthwhile background information on the key members. You are then released into the exhibition itself which includes a short film highlighting the places that Jane lived within Bath. The Souvenir Guide includes the map should you wish to explore these further after your visit.
There are some interesting exhibits including an explanation of monetary income during Jane’s era, a feature that arises many times in her books when various mothers are looking for appropriate suitors for their daughters.


Another highlights the custom of drinking tea and you can book, in advance, to take Afternoon tea in the Regency Tea Room after your visit if you so wish.

I’m not a massive supporter of gift shops when visiting exhibitions, museums etc but I couldn’t not take a wander into this one, choosing to purchase a special copy of “Pride and Prejudice’ as a birthday present to myself.

From the Jane Austen centre we then chose to take an early dinner at a local tapas restaurant -Pintxo which I would definitely recommend before retiring to our BnB for the night.

Thinking my birthday was over for another year I arrived home to a few more cards through the post. Yes I am still of that age where an actual card is the wisher of a “Happy Birthday” rather than just a social media post.
My son was unable to partake in my actual birthday due to work commitments and so invited hubby and I to an Afternoon Picky lunch on Saturday instead. In case you are not familiar with this term ‘a picky tea or lunch” is basically a selection of all those lovely foods, that in normal circumstances perhaps wouldn’t be amassed together since they derive from a variety of countries, but which on a special occasion are just lovely to indulge ourselves.

We love to pick at items such as various types of stuffed olives, crunchy dried broad beans, crostini and pate, small pork pies and slices of Gala pie, sausage rolls, Italian and Spanish deli meats, pitta slices, Greek dips such as humous, taramasalata and tzadziki along with thick slices of olive bread and a few samosas. Basically a variety of foods that can be “picked” at with no regard to country of origin or whether these items should in fact be devoured together.
With a plate laden with goodies it’s just nice to retire to the living room and chat whilst appreciating this wondrous variety of tastes.
Following our lunch my son presented me with his birthday gift. Have you ever had one of those moments when you unwrap a gift and it is so completely unexpected it nearly takes your breathe away? Inside the carefully wrapped gift paper was a published copy of my blog covering the whole of 2023.
My son had done it all. An actual published book which will, forever, live on in our family with every post I had written, including a complete account of everything we had done on our 6 months of travels, with all the photos, accurately compiled with the help of a publishing company, edited by my son within a hardback book cover! The work he must have put in to do this single handed is a gift in itself.
This is a birthday I will never forget x

NB: This is the sixth post in my series about the wonderful “Cotswolds”. An area in the UK that you really shouldn’t miss out on visiting if you are coming to the UK. It’s full of olde world charm, history going back to the Roman era and beautiful architecture. Check out previous posts in this series plus more to come soon. 
Please don’t forget to comment and/or like. I love to hear what my readers think. and also look forward to your recommendations of places to see in the Cotswolds for my future adventures Thank you

The Cotswolds -Stroud’s Five Valleys

When writing my last post I realised I was doing my home town an injustice by not talking about the wonderful five valleys that both surround it and for which it is partly famous. Condensing all this into a single narrative would again have been a disservice.

The Cotswolds are full of beautiful hills, woods, forests and deep valleys and if ever you want to set off on a full day’s hike or plan a longer week or more walk you could try The Cotswold Way. This nationally recognised walk meanders through this beautiful land from Chipping Camden in the north of The Cotswolds to Bath in the south.

My focus, today, however are the valleys surrounding Stroud. The first of these lies south east – “The Golden Valley”, so called because apparently when Queen Victoria visited Stroud and travelled here from London and the train emerged from the Sapperton Train Tunnel she was amazed by the rural surroundings and described it thus.
The River Frome runs the course of this valley as it stretches from Stroud to Chalford. The Thames and Severn Canal Towpath meanders alongside the river and beyond, providing you with an easy four mile walk which starts just behind the Waitrose Supermarket in Stroud and ends near The Lavender Bakehouse at Chalford.
This local tea room with an upstairs gift shop provides guests with a light and airy refuge to take a well earned break from the chaos of life. The ethos of the café is very much about local food supplied by small producers. It’s one of my favourites, if you are in the area give it a try, but make sure you book particularly at weekends as it does get busy. 

North East of Stroud is the second valley -the Painswick Valley. Before explaining a little more about Painswick and its special features it’s worth highlighting two places to stop en route.
Stratford Park, on the outskirts of Stroud is a 56 acre park, which has won the Green Flag Award on multiple occasions by Keep Britain Tidy and was also a Special Innovation Award winner for Community involvement.
The park includes a leisure centre, with both an indoor and outdoor pool (open during the summer months) and tennis courts, there is also a museum, play area, skate park, lawn bowling green, children’s nursery, miniature railway, arboretum/woodland, lake, bandstand and free parking.
A visit to the Museum will, amongst other things yield information about the famous author Laurie Lee and even contains his school report.

A stroll around the lake and woodland is on it’s own worth stopping for, giving an opportunity to shake off civilisation and exchange it for nature in all its glory. All the outdoor photos that I’ve included in this post were taken here.

Also en route to Painswick, shortly after leaving Stratford Park, you will come across The Malthouse Collective on your right hand side at Salmon Springs.
Take a walk inside and you will find an Aladdin’s Cave of items, both old and new displayed by individual makers and dealers. Full of antiques, vintage and collectables and housed within historic surroundings it is well worth a visit.
The ethos here is a celebration of craftsmanship and creativity whilst also nurturing new talent and supporting small businesses.

Also within its depths there is a small cafe offering a good choice of breakfast, lunch and cakes.

Onwards to Painswick which is a historic wool town and one of the best-preserved Cotswold towns earning it the name ‘The Queen of the Cotswolds’”.
Beautiful buildings line the town’s narrow streets and New Street contains the oldest building in England to house a Post Office. The town also lays claim to the country’s oldest bowling green and the parish church of St. Mary has become famous for its 99 yew trees making it one of the most memorable churchyards in the country.

Painswick is also at the mid-point of the Cotswold Way, surrounded by marvellous walking country including Painswick Beacon from where you can see the Malvern Hills and Brecon Beacons on a clear day.
It is also worth popping into the Rococo Gardens while you are here. These gardens feature on the Historic England Register of Parks and Gardens of Special Historic Interest having been returned to their former glory in 1984.

Running directly south of Stroud is the third valley -the Nailsworth Valley. The A46 runs along here from Stroud through Nailsworth and onwards to Bath. For more information about this artistic market town please refer to my previous post entitled “The Cotswolds -Shopping in Nailsworth”.

Running East of Stroud you will find the fourth valley -The Slad Valley.
This green and tranquil, slightly hidden valley became world famous following the publication of “Cider with Rosie” written by Laurie Lee.
Stopping off in the centre of Slad you will find the Woolpack Inn where the seat where Lee used to sit still remains. A visit to the local church will reveal Laurie Lee’s final resting place and the stained glass window commemorating this famous author for whom everyone locally still remains proud.
As a teenager in High School nearby, reading his book was more or less a rite of passage.
Many of the locations in the book are still recognisable today including, across the road from the Woolpack, the school house where Laurie, himself, was once a schoolboy.
The cottage where Laurie and his family lived when they first came to Slad, sits by the lake. It is a listed building and a private house, so unfortunately not open to the public.

Like all the other Stroud Valleys, Slad Valley is also full of places to reside in nature and walk including The Laurie Lee Wood, which was opened by his widow and daughter. This ancient woodland of over three hectares looks particularly pretty in bluebell season and is next door to Gloucestershire Wildlife Trusts’ Swift’s Hill nature reserve.
By climbing this local landmark you will not only find wonderful views of the Slad Valley but also a wealth of wildlife. The limestone grassland here supports over 130 species of wildflowers amongst which are thirteen species of orchid including the rare frog orchids, bee orchids and early purple orchids.
Alternatively you could opt to walk The Laurie Lee Wildlife Way which is a beautiful 5-mile walking route with ten poetry posts along the way featuring poems written by Lee himself which help to bring the surrounding countryside to life. It is quite steep in places but worth the effort. You can pick up a leaflet to accompany the walk in the Woolpack Inn.

The fifth and final Stroud Valley is Toadsmoor. This could be seen as a slight anomaly in so much as Toadsmoor branches off from The Golden Valley rather than beginning in Stroud itself.
Driving out of Stroud along the A419 towards Cirencester, and Just beyond the shops at Brimscombe, you will find a turning on your left that wanders up Toadsmoor Lane snaking it’s way towards Bussage, Eastcombe and beyond. This area is full of walks, just google The Toadsmoor Valley and you will be inundated with options. 

This beautiful part of the English countryside is so worth a visit. It’s quite sad that so many people visit the UK and focus solely on London.
This may be our capital city and also one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world with nearly nine million inhabitants and more than 300 languages spoken. however, believe me there is so much more to England than this, add a couple of days or weeks (if you have them) to your trip and explore the British countryside.

NB: This is the fifth of a series of posts about the wonderful “Cotswolds”. An area in the UK that you really shouldn’t miss out on visiting if you are coming to the UK. It’s full of olde world charm, history going back to the Roman era and beautiful architecture. Check out previous posts in this series plus more to come soon. 
Please don’t forget to comment and/or like. I love to hear what my readers think. Thank you

The Cotswolds -Stroud Hometown Glory

Whilst trying my best to stay cheerful through another miserable English Winter I have continued to revisit local towns that would feature on most tourists’ list when in the Cotswolds.
Swapping my viewpoint from one of being a local to that of a visitor, it’s interesting how differently you view what you often see as the “norm”. Come with me as I take you on a tour of this town, where I once went to High School, at the centre of “The Five Valleys.”
There is plenty of parking in Stroud, both long and short stay, but I chose to pay and display adjacent to the Shambles Market in Church Street as this then affords a nice circular walk around town. Leaving the car park behind, head along the cobbled street for your first stop – “Sunshine Health Food”.
For those of us who like to purchase seeds and nuts for breakfast or anything else healthy and/or organic this is a Stroud Mecca.

Established way back in 1927, in a bygone era before healthy living was even mentioned, families have relied on Sunshine Health to provide high quality health products and food with great service. With a rabbit’s warren of products to choose from, at prices usually lower than local supermarkets, it is a “must visit” every time we come to Stroud. Even the window display of fresh home baked bread will make your mouth water.

Just past Sunshine look out for the small lane on your right which will take you down to The Shambles Market, open 8am-3pm on Friday and Saturday.
In the shadow of St Lawrence’s Church, The Shambles is one of the oldest areas in Stroud. On the right is the Old Town Hall which dates from the late 1500s. The market stalls used to be housed in the arches under the Hall.
John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist Church, preached from the butcher’s blocks outside the Church Hall on the left on 26th June 1742. There is a Blue Plaque to commemorate the event.
There was a chapel here in Saxon times but Stroud became its own parish, separate from Bisley in 1304 and the Church was rebuilt in the mid 1860’s, the only remaining part of the original building is the Church Tower with its spire.
Another great feature of beginning your exploration here is that you will find a series of History Boards giving more information on all these buildings. These will also take you around the town pointing out other historical and interesting parts of Stroud.

There has been a market here for centuries in one form or another. The original market benches can still be seen against the wall on the left, as you go into the Shambles.
They were originally further down but have been moved here to preserve them. It is a wonderfully atmospheric place to visit at any time, but on market days it is worth taking a minute to stand and absorb the history.
Picture times gone by when the sounds of women chatting, stall holders shouting their wares and children playing would have transformed this small street into a thriving, busy area.
On the left hand side of the current market you will find the entrance into the indoor section where local artists, craft makers and collectors display their goods for purchase.

As you exit the market onto the High Street, turn right and venture into Moonflower. This is the original gift shop with a second branch just down the street.
Moonflower started life in 1979 and has been trading as a family run business for 40 years, moving to the High Street in the heart of Stroud in 1986.
This beautiful shop is well worth browsing stocking a wide range of ladies clothes, shoes, accessories and jewellery. As a company they aim to buy carefully and responsibly so the customer can in turn feel good about what they buy. Ensuring there is a selection of ethically produced and / or vegan products available that leave less of an impact on our world they aim to support local communities where they are produced.

Walking on down the High Street take a left into Kendrick Street and make a stop at “Mosaic” and it’s fellow shop “Intrigue” which are opposite each other. These two great shops are packed with literally hundreds of unique items to buy from clothing to Far Eastern ornaments. Don’t miss the wonderful hat display in Mosaic! The two shops truly reflect the diversity of the town.

If you are in need of some sustenance then the Little Ginger Deli and Cafe, on your right, just before Intrigue is worth a visit. This family run, dog-friendly deli and café was established in December 2020 at the height of the pandemic, and has developed a loyal customer base not only for the great coffee, homemade cakes and quiches, the selection of salads, and mouth-wateringly good deli sandwiches; but also for it’s exceptional customer service and warm, welcoming atmosphere with a menu that caters to various dietary requirements.

If you wish to visit the famous Stroud Farmers Market you can take a left into Threadneedle Street where Walkers Bakery stands on the corner.
There has been a bakery here for over 100 years. This is a family run, independent bakery where you will find naturally fermented, hand moulded, vegan bread with no additives. For me this is where my Mum took me to buy Lardy cake on a Saturday!
This traditional English tea bread is made from plain bread dough, enriched with sticky sweet lard and sugar as well as dried fruit and mixed spices.The dough is rolled and folded several times, in a similar way to puff pastry, which gives a layered texture.
The memories I have of eating this warm sticky sweet cake like bread in front of the open fire on Saturday teatime will remain with me forever!

The Farmers Market takes place every Saturday morning. You need to be here early if you want to find a parking space and not get caught up in the endless crowds of locals and tourists alike who venture here.
Launched in 1999 by Jasper Conrad and Isabella Blow the market has been featured in many magazines and TV programmes as well as winning awards including “Farmers Market of the Year” in 2001, 2007 and 2013.

If like me you are not in Stroud on a Saturday then follow Kendrick Street down to Sim’s Clock which stands proudly in the centre of the local road network. This was a popular meeting place when I was a teenager when the local cinema was just behind it on Russell Street. Alas it is gone now but this where I saw my first ever family movie “Half a Sixpence”! What can I say? My Mum loved Tommy Steele!

Returning to the clock and standing directly in front of it is one of the aforementioned history boards. This one encompasses the history of George’s Square including both the clock itself and the Subscription Rooms standing proudly on the corner of Kendrick Street and George Street. The Subscription Rooms were erected in 1833 with funding for the build being obtained through public subscription, hence its name. This Grade II listed building hosts a variety of entertainment including music, dance, theatre, visual arts, spoken word, exhibitions and workshops. On 31 March 1962 it hosted a little known band called The Beatles!

Heading down George Street with the Subscription Rooms on your right you will pass various other small independent Stroud shops before reaching the crossroads where George Street meets King Street. Opposite you to the right of the new Starbucks/Health Centre there is a pedestrian walkway that leads down into Five Valleys Shopping Centre. In addition to an array of shops from cheap to expensive, the highlight of this part of your tour of Stroud is the wonderful fairly new Indoor Food Court. This offers street food style stalls from Sushi to Pasta and Ice Cream to traditional Fish n Chips, with tables and chairs provided so you can take a break. Don’t forget to check out the mural which gives an insight to Stroud from a bygone era with the beautiful Cotswold Hills in the background.

If you exit the shopping centre up the second pedestrian walkway you will come back onto King Street with WH Smith opposite you. Turn left and then right and you are back onto the High Street where you can now make your way back up past some more shops to your starting point.

NB: This is the fourth of a series of posts about the wonderful “Cotswolds”. An area in the UK that you really shouldn’t miss out on visiting if you are coming to the UK. It’s full of olde world charm, history going back to the Roman era and beautiful architecture. Check out previous posts in this series plus more to come soon. 
Please don’t forget to comment and/or like. I love to hear what my readers think. and also look forward to your recommendations of places to see in the Cotswolds for my future adventures Thank you



Time Out -Should We Be Kinder To Ourselves?


I went to my first spa with two friends twelve years ago and yet I still remember that first experience.
We were staying on site for a weekend in a lovely wooden chalet amongst the trees and the sights and sounds of nature. If this wasn’t enough of an escape, we also decided to book an afternoon of relaxation at the spa to “fully immerse ourselves in our break away from life, and shut ourselves off from the world”.
We were there to chill and to forget about the mound of emails collecting on our phones, some of which were no doubt from work despite our email boxes declaring us to be on holiday!
I remember there being loads of women, mainly over the age of forty, in swimsuits and men with slight paunches walking around in cosy, fluffy white dressing gowns. I initially felt slightly at odds with the idea of walking around in just a dressing gown but soon adapted to the slow pace. It was like being on a record player turntable and someone had changed the speed from 45 to 33!

When I hit my mid century year I was still on my own, eleven years into balancing single parenthood and a career and decided to return to the same spa. We were just starting our special celebratory year “the 16-18-50 year” when, in addition to my mid century, my two children would turn sixteen and eighteen years old.
What a great way to start this special year- chillin out and relaxing together. 
I was shocked to see how much had changed! Looking around there were more bikinis than swimsuits. Slim, I only eat lettuce, young girls were there with their friends, their mums or their partners.
Is this the new trend I remember asking myself? Going to the spa with your boyfriend when you are a teenager because you need to de-stress from modern day living? Stressed – I didn’t know the meaning of the word at that age. I was too busy enjoying life living away from home for the first time. What will they be like at my age I pondered?

How the world is changing, my dear old mum, god rest her soul, wouldn’t even of heard of a spa much less spent good money visiting one. It had taken me over thirty years of hard work to discover this haven of tranquility. 
I was a typical newbie back when I had first visited, a lot like my daughter was on this occasion. Looking around, I remember worrying about people looking at me, not knowing quite what the purpose of it all was, systematically moving from room to room making sure I experienced everything there was to offer, I couldn’t possibly leave if I’d not tried it all!!

It was different this second time, I wasn’t new to the experience anymore. I knew what each room had to offer or I thought I did, there were a couple of subtle changes, things had been moved around a bit and I got to try two different rooms for meditation. But I’d changed too, there was no rush, it was more an opportunity to surrender myself to my own solitude. To wipe out all thoughts of work, to relax my mind.
I also spent some time people watching whilst chilling on a spa bed wrapped in a cosy brown comforter. I remember smiling inwardly at the middle aged women in their bikinis with their flat stomachs, thighs not meeting in the middle and wondering how much time had gone into looking like that? It’s a good look, don’t get me wrong and no doubt that’s why they were not here on their own unlike me but I remember feeling more natural.
I wore my bikini with pride as a mum. I had a few spare tyres and a chest that never shrank after my daughter was born but so what. I knew I needed to lose a few pounds, well a couple of stone to be more precise and I’d forgotten to shave my legs before embarking on the trip but I don’t think anyone noticed so why care? Everyone was just doing their own thing.
Some were what I call experts, they relaxed into sleep or read avidly, they were escaping reality and just doing as they pleased.

My daughter joined me in the Japanese sea salt room and I could see her questioning face. asking herself “what am I doing here?” She found a water bed, curled up like a baby in a cuddly blanket and slept for the remainder of the session.
Conversely my son had the air of someone who knew what he was doing. He was relaxing with a confidence he customarily exuded in unfamiliar territory which I admired and he has continued to carry this with him through life.
In the meditation room I remember lying back and closing my eyes. The music took me far away, soaring like an eagle over mountains and forests. I’d not meditated before but remember thinking about Julia Roberts in Eat,Pray,Love and committing to learn……………

I never did learn. Here I am some ten years later and apart from taking advantage of a spa voucher I was gifted at a local hotel I’ve never returned to the spa. That was my daughter’s one and only visit too.
My son conversely loves the spa and has visited several different locations including a mega posh one in London. In fact he recently treated a friend to a day at Champneys for his 30th birthday.

I think my life just got too busy and relaxing or taking a day out was never a priority.
I think I channelled my money into holidays and more recently travelling instead of treating myself to a day off from life.
Maybe we should all take a day off from life every now and again. Cut ourselves off from the outside world and just recoup. Give ourselves time to gather our thoughts, reprioritise and just chill. There is no doubt that the pace of life today is still pretty hectic.

I’m retired but I’m so busy I sometimes wonder how I ever had time to work.
I guess it doesn’t have to be a spa. It could be a hike out in nature in total seclusion with a lunch on a log in the forest or perched on the side of a mountain overlooking a fantastic view or a raging sea.

It could be a picnic on a beautiful summer’s day in the middle of a field full of flowers with a poetry book to hand. Maybe one you bought but never got around to reading.
I remember reading about such adventures in Jane Austen books and in romantic novels.

When did we stop caring about such ideas? When did we allow life to take over?
It feels like this is the time of year to commit to a fresh start. To try and be kinder to ourselves. To respect that our mind not just our body needs rest sometimes.
To take that time for ourselves away from life and all the multitudinous tasks that we see around us everyday that need completing and just step off the roundabout that is life. ……

Are All Friendships For Life?

As Big Ben tolls, heralding the start of another New Year, I think we often reflect upon the past, the present and the future.
We think about the people currently present in our lives; family, friends and maybe even work colleagues. It’s that time of year when we seek fresh beginnings and ponder whether this is the year that we need to make changes even within our close circle.

I am fortunate to have a group of good friends that I have made at various stages of my life from primary school up to my days as a funeral celebrant.

As someone who is currently at the midlife stage I have learnt across the years, though, that friendship is not always forever. The most common reason for a friendship ending isn’t tension; it’s just that friendships fizzle out. You basically outgrow each other. A friend may move, get a new job, start a family or move onto a new stage of their life which is no longer compatible with your own. One study found we lose about half our friends every seven years.
That quantity of loss is not true for me but, at this stage of my life, I’m not afraid to lose a friendship.


I’ve learnt from experience that the decision to move on from this type of relationship is often mutual but neither of you wants to take that first step. In reality as you cool the connection you will nearly always find that the other person doesn’t pursue it either, so actually you were both feeling the same way. I can think of three friendships, in particular, where this was the case.
The first was a friendship of about 16 years. Dawn and I had met through work, this then developed into a social friendship but as the years rolled by we were both moving into different phases of our life. I had become a single parent whilst she was a mature student pursuing a university degree which, not surprisingly, took up a lot of her time.
Throughout our friendship there had also always been the presence of another third party -Nicola. Nicola was one of those possessive friends, the type who has to be the BFF, who makes it clear that you are treading on her toes and regularly posts pictures of the two of them laughing and joking. One of those people who laud it over you with phrases like “Dawn and I had a fab night out, just the two of us” or “oh didn’t Dawn tell you we are going to see that new film that’s just come out” .
Personally with two children to bring up single handed and a career taking all the rest of my energy, I found my social time becoming more and more precious and I seriously didn’t have the energy to get into a competition with Nicola. I just got to the stage where I found it easier to step away. Three years later we moved from Essex to Gloucestershire which probably should have cemented the end of our friendship.
Weirdly though Dawn tracked me down 14 years later on Facebook and we reconnected. It’s a hard friendship to maintain as she has since moved as well and we now live many miles apart but we both try to catch up regularly across the phone or FaceTime.

The second friendship was only about four years in length and ended soon after I moved to Gloucestershire. Again our lives took different turns -having recovered from a serious illness, through which I was present as much as possible, and given birth to her first son, she also went on to study for a degree and we drifted apart.

The third friendship had also begun at work. Hannah and I both worked for the same company and about a year after I had moved West we began to meet socially.
As female Managers, at the time, and both with fairly young families, we had a lot in common. I guess it was about eight years later after she had left the company and taken a new role that our friendship began to fade. She met a new circle of people, worked “normal” hours and our lives moved on separately. I sometimes look her up on Facebook and wonder if its worth trying to rekindle our lost friendship but I tend to feel fate has its own way of filling your life with new hobbies, interests and friends and so tend to carry on.

Moving back to Gloucestershire brought the possibility to reconnect with old school friends. My senior school life wasn’t that great (see previous post “Life Experience vs The Tabloids”) plus when I moved here in 2005 I was still busy working whilst being a single parent so time to socialise wasn’t a priority. I did often wonder sometimes when I wandered through the local town and villages why I never seemed to bump into anyone I knew.


However back in 2020 when Covid hit and time suddenly stood still, I made a point of trying to locate an old friend – Diane who I hadn’t seen since I was probably about 21 years old. We’d managed to stay in touch for the first three years after leaving school but then life took over and we lost touch. It was actually her sister, who was on Facebook, who pointed me in the right direction for which I am forever thankful. Once life restarted outside of the Covid bubble we reconnected in person and have become friends with her and her husband seeing each other as frequently as life permits.


Through Diane I also was introduced to another group of girls who used to attend my senior school. This group meets up for a meal about once every three months. It was quite nerve wracking the first time I attended but as time has gone on I’ve found it easier. Unlike Diane, who lived abroad for a period of time, this group of up to eight individuals have mainly stayed in the “Stroud bubble” as I call it. People in this area are predominantly white, conservative by nature and don’t tend to explore the world. I find it hard to relate to their lives and no doubt they feel the same about mine.
I’ve mixed with all levels of society, various backgrounds and endless amounts of different ethnic groups, as explained in several of my previous “Opinion” pieces, which I’d like to think have given me an all round perspective on life as a whole.
I sat and listened to this group of girls on our last night out, pre Christmas, and realised how far apart we really are. Having never experienced the cross sections of life that I have they give opinions about topics purely based upon what they have heard or read and not on what they have actually experienced. I am beginning to see how this is going to play out and doubt I will stay in touch with them in 2024.

I also made contact with another old school friend Hilary back in December 2020, again through Facebook. We commented on each others’ posts but didn’t actually arrange to meet up until September 2023 after I had returned from six months travelling.
It’s early stages but Hilary has as much life experience as me, if not more, having climbed both the corporate ladder and the ranks within the armed forces. She has also, by choice, explored the world, often on her own which is amazing to hear about. I’m looking forward to seeing how this will develop over time.

Before I complete this post on “Friendships” I feel I have to mention one very sad fact about trying to rekindle friendships in later life. Don’t leave it too late.
When I left Essex back in 2005 I left behind one of my closest friends -Adam. We had worked together for about five years and had supported each other through thick and thin. We tried to stay in touch once I moved West but life took over and he eventually moved back to East Yorkshire from whence he had been brought up.
Bizarrely when I was in Barbados in 2006 we had contacted each other out of the blue and he was flying out there on holiday literally the day before I was due to fly home. We tried to meet up that night but it didn’t come to fruition and then life went on.
My thoughts turned to Adam again back in February 2015 and I started to look for him on Facebook. Sadly I discovered that he had passed away in December 2012 and it was too late. I was absolutely gutted.
I’ve recently finished reading a Christmas book entitled “Meet Me Under The Mistletoe” by Jenny Bayliss where the author describes a similar situation “The worst part of all -the part Elinor couldn’t get her head around – was that Tristan wasn’t in the world any more. it hadn’t mattered that they hadn’t seen each other from one year to the next, because she’d known he was in the world somewhere. And suddenly he wasn’t. She would never see him again; that option had been removed from the universe. “


If there is someone out there who you keep thinking about getting back in touch with, stop thinking about it and just do it. You have nothing to lose………………..

Please note -I have changed the names of my friends in this post as I feel using their real names is an invasion of their privacy.