A Day in the Cotswolds

Instead of providing all the details of our horrific morning trying to leave our B&B, here's an excerpt from the seven-page report I submitted to Quality in Tourism, an organization monitoring quality and providing inspections of accommodation in the UK.

As an introduction, here's a brief summary copied from the first paragraph of my letter to Quality in Tourism:

“During an altercation when we tried to leave her property I telephoned Quality in Tourism and was instructed to contact the police regarding our situation as [the owner] had used her vehicle to block us in her driveway after we refused to pay a £25 fee she unlawfully demanded of us.”

During this incident I told my parents, “Well, if nothing else, this give me great material for my blog!”

Here are excerpts from the report:
. . . My mother came to my room before breakfast and told me that we needed to find another place to stay for our second night in the Cotswolds as their bed was terribly uncomfortable and the ensuite was filthy . . . after my mother's description of the coating of dust, hair, and crumbs on the floor and how she needed to clean off the toilet seat before using it, I agreed that we should find another place to stay
. . . . [the owner] told me I couldn't check out early and that I had to pay her at least a £25 deposit to cover the second night . . . I maintained a calm tone but [the owner] became more and more agitated and angry and insisted that I go upstairs and show her the problems.
. . . [the owner] flipped the toilet lid open and angrily demanded, “Does that look filthy to you? I cleaned that toilet myself yesterday! Does it look filthy to you? I don't appreciate you coming into my home and saying it's filthy. I want my £25!” I stayed calm and told her I didn't know what the toilet looked like before my mother cleaned it so I couldn't say anything about the cleanliness.
. . . [the owner] continued berating me, accusing us of staying out late the night before and she made the statement, “You've been nothing but a bother since the first time you contacted me, telling me I was too expensive.” I didn't respond to either of these accusations, although both were false.
. . . My parents were waiting in the car outside, becoming quite concerned as they could hear [the owner] yelling at me inside the house.
. . . My father adamantly refused to pay the £25 deposit . . . [the owner] followed my father back outside and rushed ahead of him to reach her vehicle before he reached ours. She reversed her vehicle into a section of the driveway between two barns, effectively trapping our car in the parking area in front of the house. She then either shut off the vehicle or stalled before restarting it to turn the wheels and pull ahead to block more of the driveway. When she got out of her vehicle my father told her we would be calling the police and she yelled, “Call Quality in Tourism! If they come and inspect my home and say it's filthy like you say it is then you can leave, but otherwise you're not leaving until I get my £25 deposit!”

A photo of her vehicle blocking us in.

A video clip showing our car trapped in the driveway.

. . . I told her that I had the police on the phone . . . with a softened tone she said, “I'm not demanding payment, I'm asking for it.” I responded, “You're not requesting payment, you're demanding it – you've blocked us into the driveway!” She started raising her voice again and told me I should call Quality in Tourism and see if they think her home is filthy. I told her that I had already called Quality in Tourism and they were the ones who told me to call the police because she was blocking us in her driveway. I asked her if she wanted me to ask the police to come to the house. She ignored me and continued telling me how she keeps a clean home and she just wanted a deposit.
. . . She responded, “If you stayed at a hotel they'd make you pay for the second night!” I replied, “Not if I made a complaint!” She returned to the house and slammed the door.
. . . We folded the mirrors flat against the sides of the car and managed to maneuver past her vehicle with mere inches to spare between the vehicles and wall of the barn. We spent almost one hour trapped in the driveway.

Definitely a memorable morning! After finally escaping this woman's yard we enjoyed exploring Charlecote Park, a National Trust site, by taking in a garden tour and wandering through the house on a self-guided tour. It was a beautiful place with an interesting history and lovely gardens, but I kept bursting out laughing saying, "I can't believe she trapped us in the driveway!"

Charlecote Park.
That big building on the left is just the gatehouse.
The mansion is in the background.

The gardens and pond were landscaped by Capability Brown.

I mapped out a route through the Cotswolds and included a stop in Chipping Campden for a proper afternoon tea. We chose Badgers Hall for our tea and dad laughed when we asked him if he wanted to join us. His response was, “No, I'll just order lasagna.” He ordered shepherd's pie or something of a similarly "manly" nature and when our platter heaped with cakes, sandwiches, and scones arrived, his jaw dropped and he asked if we needed help. He was pretty happy when we couldn't make it through the cakes, although mom gave in and shared her scone with him so he could try it with clotted cream and jam.

Great food, but I've yet to enjoy a tea like this without making a mess.

After tea we took a long walk through the village. I walked through the town alone during my solo road trip so it was really wonderful to create new memories shared with my parents.


There are a lot of unique door-knockers in the town and dad kept pointing them out and he didn't understand why I didn't want to take photos of every single one. "But you like door-knockers! This is a neat one!" It's not easy to explain as there's nothing specific I look for in a door-knocker, but not every door-knocker catches my eye - even some relatively unique ones just don't quite qualify as being photo-worthy. These two made the cut.

The shapes in this door-knocker reminded me of Dr. Seuss' style of illustration.

As we explored Chipping Campden we discovered a small, walled memorial garden to a botonist named Ernest Wilson. There were some information panels along one wall and it was really interesting to read about the adventure-filled life of this man we'd never heard of before.

A bee enjoying some flowers in the Ernest Wilson Garden.

Chipping Campden.

We took a walk through yet another graveyard.

I love the final lines engraved on this headstone:
1396063 Sergeant
N. H. Powell
Air Bomber Royal Air Force
28th April 1944 Age 26
He Feared Death
So Little
Because He Feared God
So Much

As we drove through the Cotswolds we stopped at Broadway Tower because dad had admired it when he saw photos on my blog when I went on a solo road trip through the Cotswolds last winter.

This is for any Gilmore Girls fan, especially Lindsay.