Sometimes I think I heart England too much, especially when I visit places like this village in the middle of the Wiltshire countryside, where one could dip their feet in the river and stare at the tiny houses stacked atop one another for days on end.
That day was our last before we had to leave, and it was so,so perfect. My family are National Trust geeks at heart who never tire of slowly trotting our way around every possible crumbling building (thank god there are plenty of them) in this country, whether previously inhabited by Churchill, Hardy or Jane Austen. Thus, we found ourselves at the gates of Dyrwood Park (a property with a PARK filled with DEER, as the name doesn't at all suggest), where I:
♥ Listened to my mother play an antique piano in a magnificent hall
♥ Discovered a minuscule pond with a tres amusant family of frogs and toads who busied themselves with a game of water statues (just like musical statues but in water and without the music).
♥ Marvelled at length and came very close to attempting to eat numerous very realistic plastic food artefacts, including steak, cheesecake, onions and frighteningly plump chicken legs.
♥ Discovered the simple pleasures of Staring At Ceilings.
Then, we wanted to make the most out of a beautiful spring evening and drove off whilst munching on delicious date-and-almond (my favourite are cranberry and pecan, if you happen to ever struggle for a birthday present) Dorset Cereals chunky slices, to find ourselves in a place called Castlecombe. The rest, as they say, is history...
Straw Boater, Amazon
P.S. Whatever you do, you cannot argue with me that a place with a house named "Unicorn Cottage" and a river so transparent you can see through the webbed wings of the millipedes is not heaven on earth. Ever.