Our hostess greeted us at the door. As we went to our room she told us that the pub at the corner did not serve dinners on Sunday. Uh-oh. We were counting on that, and we were hungry after a full day of travel. We decided that we'd go on up anyway to have a drink, and then see if we needed food.
This inn was aptly named: The Angel Inn.
It was a lovely place to stop, comfortable and friendly like all the locals we'd been in.
When I came back outside I met up with my hubby, who said he was going to walk down to a local convenience store for some food. He'd been told it wasn't far. I went back to the house and told our hostess where he was going and she said, "Oh no. I will go get him and take him to the store!" And off she went. They were soon back, Larry bearing wine and bread and cheese and fruit. We sat in the kitchen and talked and laughed for a good while with our hostess before turning in for the night.
|Traffic going into Bristol, and we squeezed past them on the left!|
I was so sad to leave England. It was a memorable trip, my mind filled with images and faces and voices. For weeks after we came home, I dreamed I was still there, and sometimes when I woke at night, I would think I was still there, sleeping in some small stone house somewhere on Bodmin Moor. Even now I have moments that I feel the place all around me.
One day I will go back. One day I will stay longer, go out to the cliffs at night to listen to the pounding sea, wander the moors at dawn to watch the fog rise from the valleys, and listen to the wind whistle around the ancient stones. One day. It is a promise I am making to myself.
Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.