And finally to home…

On the drive home to Farnham, (which didn’t take very long though did take longer than it should have because it was race day at Newbury) we took a vote. It was unanimous. This had been one of the worst holidays we’ve had since moving to the UK. It didn’t help that our lasting impression of the Vale of Severn was firmly cemented in place by the sight (and sound) of a deranged local screaming vile, offensive abuse at his dog. The dog was chasing his sheep. HIS dog. HIS sheep. The gods only know how he’d react if someone else’s dog chased his sheep. As dogs sometimes do. I assume he has a gun for those times. And the dog’s tail was wagging. It was clearly having fun and was no danger to the sheep, who were gambolling across the field. And any fool knows, sheep only gambol when they’re not frightened. He was clearly demented and should not own a dog. He’s probably the Pope’s Hill wildlife ranger.

To be completely honest, I think the main reason this holiday was blighted, was the weather…also because of the food…and because Cinderford was ugly.

As for the effigy of Robert of Normandy in Gloucester cathedral and the odd position of his legs…I have found a mention of it on a website that states the right leg may have been resting on something that has since disappeared. It also suggests it had something to do with the fact that his family always laughed at his short, pathetic legs and this was a way of showing them they were pretty good after all. I like that explanation but it seems unlikely.

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