I'm off on holiday again, this time in the northern part of the Cotswolds, or rather just off them, at Broadway. I'm here for six nights, intending to enjoy five full days of sunny late-autumn scenery. Sere orange leaves falling silently in the gentle breeze...glorious sunsets...the peace and serenity of a half-empty Caravan Club site...
Some hope! I set off in rain. It lashed down all the way to Stow-on-the-Wold, only to be replaced by fog. At Broadway, the rain spat again. It promises to be dull and cloudy throughout my stay. I wouldn't mind that if I had peace and serenity, but this turns out to be a noisy site. It's not half-empty, it's packed. Loud passing traffic, loud adults, and loud children too. (Why aren't they at school? It's not the weekend yet). The presence of precocious children probably means some ghastly trick-or-treating on Friday, which is Hallowe'en. I might well decide to eat out that evening, and avoid any possibility of being pestered. I blame the parents. Why was it necessary to produce replicas of themselves?
These are unwanted irritants I don't get at my favourite farm sites in the West Country. Some Caravan Club sites are like charming meadows or orchards. Broadway is not. I got a nice welcome on arrival, but occasionally you pick a site you don't fancy coming back to, and on the showing so far, this is one of them. I rather wish I'd gone to Stamford instead, like I did last year. Or, if it had to be the Cotswolds, then the Cirencester site, which is definitely the best of the bunch. Sigh.
I sound very dissatisfied, I know. Maybe I should have stayed at home, and got on with something useful. No: the notion of getting away late in the year was a good one, and I mustn't let my hyperactive neighbours spoil it for me. Tomorrow will be different. I will make it so.