Afternoon Tea

It's Easter Monday and there were hordes of walkers out and about.

I headed out with Hobson and TB and we took our normal walk as far as Pete the Beekeeper's house. On our return we, again, cut away from the road and headed down the footpath across the fields.

Traitorous Bastard was slightly less apprehensive of crossing the footbridge, but was totally confused later when he was expected to duck under a stile.  Hobson dipped under it with barely a break in his stride, but TB just stood there looking bemused.  I am rapidly coming to the conclusion that he is a definite Townie with no understanding of our Country ways.  TB was eventually persuaded to duck under the stile, when I grabbed his collar and gave a gently tug.

This afternoon 30% and I headed over to the Lygon Arms at Broadway. We had been gifted a voucher for afternoon tea by Bubbles and Bobbyn and we had made our reservation for four o'clock.  I grew up less than three miles from The Lygon, but have never before visited.  It had a reputation, much as the rest of Broadway does, of being filled with International* tourists. I can confirm that this little Cotswold village lived up to its reputation and was very busy in the early Spring sunshine.

We settled ourselves at our table and had rather splendid afternoon tea. There was endless tea or coffee, a variety of sandwiches, scones with jam and clotted cream, and a selection of cakes and gateaux.  There was plenty to eat and neither of us had any complaints, although we had researched the cost of this gift, and I'm not sure that we had consumed ninety quids worth of food!** 

So that was it for Easter Monday, apart from one thing ... as the day drew to a close I noticed that my stenosis symptoms seem to be slightly improved. It's could be just that I have had a good day, but I am hoping that it may be easing, as it did after a few weeks last year.***

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* My Dad used to refer to them in a dismissive tone as "Yanks" or "Bloody Foreigners" 

** About four years ago we were gifted a Champagne afternoon tea at The Grosvenor in Chester.  It was unbelievable!  I have never eaten nor drunk as much in an afternoon and we both rolled out of the hotel bloated and tipsy.  I haven't a clue how much it cost, but it did make The Lygon's fare look rather penny pinching.

*** It played up a few weeks before I went on the Black Forest motorcycle tour, and subsided slowly over the following weeks.