Cloud 9: Charingworth Manor, near Chipping Campden

Of the places I stayed in England, Charingworth Manor was my favourite.

Eventually, a little (make that very!) exasperated and hungry, I found this hotel. Only two nights were available, which was better than one. A B&B could be found later. Actually, it was just as well that no more nights were available. This was my splurge and I would have wanted to have stayed longer.

I paid extra for the view, which I felt I needed. It didn't matter to me that this place is four miles from town (according to Google maps). It was so comfortable here.

The manor is up a long, long driveway on a 54 acre property.

My car, parked by the office entrance.

Petals on the driveway.

Around the grounds.

I think this was behind the manor.

More scenes around the property.

The room wasn't ready, which was no surprise considering I'd arrived unannounced, so I relaxed and unwound in this sitting room with a cup of coffee and cookies.

I felt fortunate to get this room facing the front.

It's a creaky hotel but the building is several hundred years old. The room had welcoming music playing on the TV when I entered. There are two desks, a round table with two chairs, chest of drawers, a bench seat at the window, windows that open, a bathtub (yay), a robe, slippers, kettle and assortment of teas and drinks, safe, room service, etc.

I was wandering around the room wondering what it would ultimately cost. Is it the kind of place that charges for every little thing, such as the bottles of sparkling water and the still water that I already drank? (I paid for the coffee and cookies in the lounge while waiting for the room to be cleaned. At the Stephanie Inn in Oregon those things are free… although it costs more to stay there.) Just as I was getting wrapped up in these thoughts, a jet or a whole squadron of them thundered over the building. It sounded as if the roof was going to come off. I took that as a loud - very loud, and clear message from Glenn to quit that line of thinking. He would want me to stay here, no question. It was his kind of place as well. I missed seeing the jet(s) out the window but saw swallows swooping around, which felt like a positive sign, as did the pink blossom petals that had been falling on me outside.

Later I asked the desk clerk if a military base was nearby. She said, 'No. It was very unusual for a jet to fly over like that, especially so close.' The manager, from Jersey, had the same last name as a friend of mine. I wanted to say hello but he was away. Jersey sounds nice - I'd like to go there some day.