Cookswood, Somerset Trip

After an uneventful trip of 60-odd miles, we arrived at 3:45 pm at the Gated Village of Cookswood, 3 miles from Radstock, on the northern slope of the Mendip Hills. 29 The Beeches. Lovely house with 4 bedrooms and plenty of space for everyone to relax. It was a new build and one of those eco-homes. It was like an oven when we arrived. Yes, we have had a very hot spell for the last 3 weeks, and we are not used to 32 deg C and the warm nights that come with the hot days. Robert and Lauren arrived shortly after us, and the Middle Smith followed them in.

We all unpacked what we all thought we would need. Two and a half dozen beers, three bottles of Champagne, six bottles of wine and a litre of Whisky; there was some food, mainly cheese and cake. 

Robert and Lauren bought some sausages and burger patties; being Friday, it was Burger Night. 

Getting back to the sausages and patties. You know the Cadbury’s chocolate expression: every bar of Cadbury’s milk chocolate is made with a glass and a half of milk. Well, these patties were made with a cow and a half. Huge, delicious, and well worth the money. To be fair, the sausages had a fair amount of pork in them. Somerset farmers’ local butchery is a must if you are in the area. Burger night went well into the night, 11 pm bedtime. It takes me two to three days to get over our wild weekends.

Saturday

Morning swim in the lake from a former quarry. Clear blue water and no one there. This was a lifesaver for us and Jenson; we cooled off and were very reluctant to go back to the hot house. One drawback: it was an old quarry and the stones leading down to the water's edge were very sharp and hard. We all groaned at one time or another. Susan, Lauren and Robert had their beach Birkenstocks, so they walked into the water with them on. I, on the other hand, had to endure the torture of the rocks. Saying that, we did have 3 swims, the sharp rocks no match for the beating, hot sun. hothouse

Thinking about it, there is no one around. There must be 40-odd houses, and I have only seen 4 occupied. Somerset’s best-kept secret. Photos on my iPhone gave the area as Radstock, Leigh on Mendip. What is a Mendip? Well, like the Fells in the Lake District, it is a hill. So when in Somerset, take yourself off for a walk on the Mendips.

Reminds me of Torpenhow Hill. A. D. Mills in his Dictionary of English Place-Names interprets the name as "Ridge of the hill with a rocky peak", giving its etymology as Old English torr, Celtic *penn, and Old English hoh, each of which mean 'hill'. Thus, the name Torpenhow Hill could be interpreted as 'hill-hill-hill Hill'. Gary told us after a few beers and at the time I did think he was exaggerating a little, seems he was right.

Midsomer Norton

After our swim we set off for what was promised as the best coffee place in Somerset. Once again we drove cautiously along the single-track B roads with the warning, if you can’t reverse, do not use this route. Arrived at Midsomer Norton Village and, much to our disappointment, the coffee establishment was closed. Change of plan, we headed into the town centre. There we found the Jacaranda, a vibrant coffee shop with a good range of breakfast items on the menu. Problem solved, well, until we realised that this town is famous for the most murders in one village. Midsummer Murders, I have seen the series and thanks to Detective Chief Inspector (DCI) John  Barnaby, he has cleaned up the town and now it is a quiet, peaceful village, where the residents go about their lawful business and, for the most part, seem happy.

We all had a very tasty breakfast, adding personality to some who blamed Lauren for the closed coffee shop. In fairness, she did message them through Instagram, enquiring if they were open on a Saturday morning, but it seems they are not that up to date with modern technology. 

All was not lost; the coffee shop we had breakfast at, did serve strong coffee, Gary referred to it as battery acid.

Midsomer Norton had a small stream flowing through the middle of town and as you can see by the photos, it was quite a pretty town. There is a distinct lack of pharmacies; the only one we found had a long queue. 

Frome 

Frome was our next port of call. It is a picturesque market town in Somerset, England, renowned for its thriving artisan culture, hundreds of listed buildings, and community-led ethos. We did not manage to visit Catherine Hill: a steep, cobbled street that has boutiques, craft shops, and cafes. Lauren was very keen but we had Jenson, who was taking strain in the hot weather and hot tar, so made a note to visit it in a cooler month.

Frome is also known for its ability to attract a number of famous people, either to visit or stay. Hugh Grant, from Love Actually, to name one, lived there for a while. 

We crossed a bridge over the Frome River and like the Pont des Arts in Paris. Couples attach personalised padlocks to the fencing and throw the keys into the Frome River.

We wandered around the Frome Market. Like most markets, it has an eclectic variety of stalls, selling homemade furniture, to an artisan baker. Robert bought a bottle of wine made in Somerset, which will be interesting to savour tonight with Claudia’s lasagna. Alas, he took it home. 

Dinner on Saturday night had a very Italian theme to the food. Antipasto, artisan bread, cheese from the local market and, before I forget, Claudia. A big Italian salad with sliced tomatoes, mozzarella and rocket, dressed with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. That was to start with; Claudia had made one of her world-renowned lasagnas. Huge, juicy, full of flavour, and covered in Claudia’s cheddar cheese. Heaven in every mouthful. The champagne was opened for Lauren; she graduated on Friday and is now an international teacher. We are all very proud of her achievements. In September she is taking on a teaching post at a prestigious private school for rich kids and hopefully will be remunerated well. Talking of spoilt rich kids. I had a few while coaching cricket who went to a posh school and, well, the less said the better. Sometimes a brat is a brat. I should reconsider saying something about the brats of this world. Susan says if you cannot say anything nice, say nothing at all. One or two names come to mind!

Sunday - My Birthday

Moving on, we were meant to go to Glastonbury village. Michael did say it was a good place to visit, maybe next time.

Robert and Lauren bought me a Sherlock Holmes pipe and a very interesting card. What do you think?

The Middle Smiths bought me a large bottle of Whisky, always welcome, and Susan gave me the weekend with my family and two moleskin notebooks and a pencil. I must say all the presents were well thought out and really appreciated. 

We dutifully tidied up the house and packed the car with most of the beers and set off to Holcombe Farm Shop for breakfast. Quaint, rustic and the food was good. Sadly said our goodbyes after breakfast and all headed in different directions until next time.

After arriving home, I went shopping. Susan said there was enough food in the fridge, but I did inform her that marriage is like a workshop. Susan works and I shop. I have said that before, but it never loses its appeal. Talking of life’s choices, Susan asked me a question one day. 

‘If a Lion attacked me and my mother, who would you save?’ 

That was a difficult question to answer; my first thoughts were for the lion. The ramifications for years to come hinged on my answer. After much thought, I changed the subject and offered her a cup of tea. That’s what they call a near miss in aviation terms.