After those two simple things it was two o’clock in the afternoon and I needed to get some work done.
However, as I slowly drove along the slippery roads I saw the view above. It seemed a quintessentially English, snowy scene. Staunton, is also a pretty quintessential English village – much like all the others a place of retirement and a dormitory for nearby towns. Few facilities but a strong community spirit that my mother gets drawn in to as she goes there for her painting classes.
It was a bit eerie stopping in the middle of the road. no cars in front no cars behind. This piece of road is the fastest in the forest – where frustrated drivers tend to open up the throttle for half a mile. Not yesterday. It was twenty miles an hour all the way down to Monmouth, occasionally being overtaken by a tractor. I managed to park outside The Woolworths, that has been closed over a year now. Iceland has taken over. And they had milk! none to be had in Coleford yesterday.