I love living within the melodic clash of cultures, ideas and people that is London, however the pace of this truly unique city can sometimes take its toll.
This past weekend, my boyfriend and I decided to escape the big smoke in favour of some country air and spent a couple of days in Hereford with some friends.
Since moving to the UK, people have always praised the beauty of The Cotswolds and the necessity of paying a visit, so I was excited to finally tick it off my list.
As we approached the chicken-surrounded converted barn we’d be calling home and lost all phone reception, we realised just how with-nature this weekend would be.
Despite the, at first confronting, absence of a door in our master bedroom, the barn at Farmhouse Farm was beyond beautiful and had everything we could possibly need—from a ping pong (beer pong) table to the most impressive Rangemaster I’d ever seen.
After being abruptly woken by a foreign sound early Saturday morning—turns out it was a goose—we regrouped and planned the day with the first stop being the local cider mill, obviously.
Whilst I’m not a huge fan of British cider, I’d never immediately say no to unlimited samples, however the whole experience just reaffirmed that I really don't like British cider. So, whilst our friends literally filled their flagons, I daydreamed of gin... and a burger.
13 & 1/2 kilometres and a lot of moving to the side of the road to let tractors pass later, we came across The Mill; a little slice of heaven in the middle of nowhere, serving some of the best, locally sourced food I've ever had.
For the owner/ waiter/ bartender, Jason, nothing was too much trouble—even after his fifth journey up the stairs to take our never-ending orders of their delectable Cajun onion rings; a must if you're ever in the area!
Feeling full to the brim and a little bit boozy, we decided to take the road less travelled back to the barn. After a false start, which resulted in us finishing where we started, we finally found our feet and a gorgeous path that led us through fields, old church grounds and even a stable.
After soaking up the rest of the day's sun in the barn's courtyard area, it was time to retreat for a few (hundred?) games of beer pong... which turned into gin and tonic pong... which turned into tequila pong... which resulted in some fuzzy heads the next morning.
After digging into a delicious Sunday roast, it was time to hit the road—ensuring plenty of time for an icecream break on the way, of course.
If nothing else, the weekend reminded me of the importance of taking time to visit beautiful places with beautiful people... oh, and that of washing out your beer glass before topping it up with gin!
*A special thanks to my friend, Dan, for letting me steal a couple of his pictures. No one captures gin and tonic pong and my loving gaze quite like him!