I can’t tell you where this home is because the truth is I don’t know. Yesterday morning I set off from Bath at 7:30am thinking I had given myself more than enough time to get home by 10. However, after 30 minutes on the M4 it became apparent I was not getting home for 10 at all, the motorway was shut further up so I looked at the maps on my phone and decided on my own detour.
I was quite positive my detour was the best most clever detour ever. So clever that not even Google Maps was suggesting it to me. I set off on my new route sure as anything I would get home in time because I had mastered the roads in the space of about 27 seconds. Turns out I hadn’t mastered the roads and my fabulous route was just as bad as the official diversion. I drove the countryside way and it was torture. Torture because I was stressed and didn’t have a clue where I was or where I was going and every five minutes I was driving through picture perfect villages that all I wanted to do was get out and snap a photo of.
By the time I reached this wee home I accepted defeat, pulled up and snapped a photo. Only problem is I didn’t take a note of where I was, but I am pretty sure this was somewhere in West Berkshire! And what I have learnt from the motorway being closed and being sling into country lanes I had no previous knowledge of is that Oxfordshire and Berkshire are rather lovely and now I want to plan a trip that is less accidental and more ‘I actually am supposed to be on these roads’.
So Berkshire, you are full of villages I don’t know the name of and you really are quite pretty, so I am counting on you to get me over the winter blues come January.