"Chippy" is actually called Chipping Norton; a slightly larger hamlet some five miles from Kingham. We ventured there mid-morning in order to find a local Barclays bank to deposit our rent check, and to explore the greater realm.
Did I mention I hate driving here? I'm getting the hang of the larger (read almost a full two lanes) country roads nearby, though many are but a scant 1.5 lanes at best. But Chippy is another matter entirely; public carparks built on the sides of hills, narrow and bustling streets and pedestrians everywhere. Suddenly I see the wisdom in the diminutive cars the Brits tend to favor. In fact, the choice of a motorcycle or scooter demonstrates unmistakable logic!
We found the local Barclays and "queued up" (waited in line- a common British daily occurrence) for 20 minutes or so for our turn at the tellers window. Then we wandered through several nearby shops including an antiquarian bookstore where we escaped after buying but one book. "How much" I asked. "Four pounds" was the shop owner's reply. Now I personally doubt the book could have weighed more than 1 pound 8 ounces, but far be it from me to tell a bookseller how to weigh his merchandise. It turns out of course that pounds was the price, not the weight. Who knew? And I have no idea how quid and shillings and Euros all fit together in the scheme of things. Lovely!
We ducked in and out of several other stores and a busy public market square with bakers, produce farmers and butchers busily hawking their wares. We stopped in a local pub called "Bitter and Twisted" where we enjoyed baked Camembert with baguette, spicy lamb sausages on a roll and buttered greens with sultanas and walnuts. Who said English food wasn't tasty? A pint of bitters made the meal complete. I've included a photo or two for your temptation. The tab there was 24 pounds and I KNOW there wasn't 24 pounds of food on our plates- so now I'm getting used to prices in something other than dollars. I paid like I knew exactly what I was doing.
On the way to the public car park we stopped in a local supermarket and dared to try self-checkout, which actually went rather well I thought, though the system refused to recognize my Visa card since it doesn't have the type of embedded chip local merchants favor, but cash was readily accepted. We came home with bread and scones from the public market square, some ginger cookies and olive oil.
I've attached a photo of the front door latch on the cottage which utilizes a brass skeleton key that looks like it might have once belonged to Charles Dickens. You'll also find a photo of a local mail box in Chippy that was undoubtedly here if Charles Dickens ever passed through, and a beautifully landscaped retaining wall near the market square. Everything seems to grow prolifically here due to the constant rain.
One other note. The flight in yesterday included "Flight Tracker" on the screen in front of every passenger; a way to monitor the speed, altitude, headwind, latitude and longitude of the aircraft. I found it fascinating that the longitude moved ever closer to 0 degrees as we neared London. I've never been closer to the prime meridian than about 68 degrees west and spent most of my life between 70 and 120 degrees. Now it turns out I'm quite near the prime meridian AND on Greenwich Mean Time. I can only assume the word "Mean" refers to the attitude of local drivers on narrow cartways.
Off to build a fire in the hearth of the sitting room and perhaps an afternoon nap. Lovely as they say locally!
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