This was not supposed to be my first blog. In my mind, I have been blogging since before I knew what blogging was. Everytime something remotely memorable happens to me, I make a mental note to write about it. But it looks so good to me in my head that I never really get down to penning it for fear of not being able to do justice to the event!
Anyway, this is not about my inability to see things through or my tendency to rationalize laziness. This is about the fateful half-day in Stroud that has become a haunting memory for all of us.
So there we were, in the "Silent Coach" of the train to Stroud, getting bitched at because we were not so silent. The view from our windows was predictably pretty. Open green expanses, quaint little villages and animals grazing on meadow-esque lands...So of course we thought this was a perfect beginning to the rest of the day.
Since we couldn't talk (which by the way was ridiculous!), Jojo and I decided to play what I will call the Alphabet Game while Jasmine plugged her iphone in and put on the why-play-games-when-you-can-read-for-class act (Yes Jasmine, we all know how immersed you were in those articles! :p) It was a very educational game too! I learned that "Hairy Crabs" are animals, and that "fresh" strawberries are more fruity than just strawberries. All credit for new inventions in the field of veggies, fruits and animals goes to Jojo's creativity. There's so much I need to learn from you Jojo!
Anyway, we reached Stroud and everything was going as planned. We ate at a lovely little cafe called Star Anise (definitely worth a visit, if only for their desserts!) and walked the short distance to the bus stop from where we were to take a bus to Painswick which, we were told, was a charming example of the western-countryside.
It was the hour-long wait at the bus-stop that set strange tidings in motion (it could have been the sudden onslaught of snow but thats debatable). The old lady with a bunch of bags standing next to us looked harmless enough for Jojo to ask her for directions or such.
Before we knew what hit us, we had been pegged as potential kidnapees. Out came a brochure of a mansion-esque house that she claimed was hers (I could almost see her swiping that off a real-estate agents' office) and with it an invitation to tea. Now don't get me wrong. I am all for ye olde British traditions like tea and what not. However, when the to-be host looks like someone who trains her cats to prepare the cauldrons in the dungeons for fresh human-broth, you cannot blame us for getting a wee bit squeamish when, undeterred by our polite declination, the lady followed us even as we got off the bus at the graveyard attached to the beautiful Stroud church.
Thus ends the part of the story where we narrowly escaped the clutches of the cat lady (she never really mentioned anything about having pets but she was old, apparently lived in a beautiful mansion and wanted to invite three strange girls to tea! That ought to set the cat-alarm blaring!) by taking refuge in a country-side ale-house called "The Falcon".
After shooting back a Baileys Cappucino (The Falcon was charming!) we felt brave enough to venture out into the mystery laden Stroud lanes. The rest of our exploration was pretty regular- dark houses, no street lamps, slippery narrow deserted lanes, antique shops with a glass-eyed rocking horse, getting bitch-slapped by the snow.....pretty much your average weekend.
Having had enough excitement for the day, we sat down for dinner at a cozy restaurant near the station. I don't know if it was the calm and soothing ambience or the food coma, but it was only when we were already on the train back to London that we realized that we hadn't paid for that lovely meal! None of us remembered paying while each of us assumed that someone had paid for everyone.....Of course we felt guilty as hell about it, but it kind of made perfect sense for the day to end on the same freaky note that it had started on.
So if any of you were looking for a weekend of some "off the beaten path", horror-movie kind of travel, I would highly recommend a visit to Stroud in the winter months. While it is characteristically English countryside gorgeous during the day, the evening brings its own brand of unexpected fun that gives you gooseflesh from more than just the cold!
