After a month in Oxford we are back on the road again and I am officially on holidays for two weeks. We’re in the charming Cotswolds on route west to Wales then north to Scotland where I will be doing my next artist residency.

It was nearly a no start. Several times over the past few months there have been some van issues. One time it was a flat battery, another time there was a strange fuse that needed replacing. This time though, it was definitely the starter motor. With two days to go before we were due to leave Oxford, we knew we had to do something and fast.

Googling mobile motor mechanics, we found one mechanic who could attend to us in a week’s time. That was not good enough. It’s a tight schedule of travel we have ahead in order to get to the residency in Scotland in time. So we kept trying. Then as luck would have it we found a retired mobile mechanic who was on his way overseas and squeezed our job in.

It was a bit tense as I was preparing for an oral presentation of my Oxford artist residency on zoom at the same time as the van was jacked up to get the starter motor out for replacement. A lot of deep breathing and calming cups of tea ensued.

Finally I gave my presentation, the mechanic came back with the new motor to be installed and we packed up the van to leave the next day. Phew! It did require some radical trust that everything would turn out in the end, which it did.

We travelled to Bibury (pronounced By-bury) in Gloucestershire in the rain, the first we’ve had in awhile. The rain brings out the impossible fluorescent green of the countryside and then it stopped just in time for us to arrive at our campsite, roll out our canopy, set up the deck chairs and go for a walk.

We walked to the three road junction called the Arlington Pike on the outskirts of Bibury. We were told it was the place where they erected a hangman’s gallows back in medieval times to hang highwaymen (robbers). Now there’s a bus stop and a neighbourhood watch sign. Thank goodness times have changed.

Tomorrow we will bike in to visit the iconic town of Bibury with its stone weavers’ cottages and streets which fill up with busloads of tourists after 10am. There’s an old Roman track to get there and the remains of a Roman building somewhere to explore as well as another Roman road called the Salt Way.

You can still trace the Roman occupation of Britain by the names of the towns. Cirencester, the nearest large town used to be a Roman fort as did other English towns with the suffix ‘cester’, ‘chester’ and ‘caster’ (from the word ‘castrum’ meaning military encampment or fort). In England you really do feel those layers of time connected with place that bring history stories alive.

Tonight I will go to sleep to the quiet sounds of the countryside after a month of city noise; trains, sirens and buses. I’ll open my eyes to the sight of hay in the meadows, sheep grazing nearby and three different varieties of woodpeckers harassing the local ‘murder’ of crows ( true - that’s the collective name for a group of crows). Pastoral bliss!