||[Jul. 27th, 2010|10:05 am]
As soon as we're beyond Birmingham and the road signs start to announce Gloucester and the South West I feel as if I'm coming home. This is a little odd as I've never lived in the area- and don't even know it very well. The area I think of as "home" is fairly precisely circumscribed. It's made up of Gloucestershire, Wiltshire and Somerset- and stops dead at the borders of Devon. I can feel when I'm inside the magic circle and when I'm outside it. Stratford on Avon- much as I love it- is outside. Tewkesbury- only a few miles to the west of Stratford is inside. Don't ask me to explain. |
On our way down to my mother's we took a bit of a detour to the west and visited Cirencester. This was only the second time we'd been there and the first was a flying visit. Cirencester is achingly beautiful. In Roman times- when its name was Corinium- it was the second largest city in Britain.
Here are a couple of pictures of the market place, featuring the church of St. John the Baptist with its magnificent late medieval porch.