UK Honeymoon

The Eight Bells 1958
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We'd been married some four years before we could afford to take our honeymoon trip; our little daughter was just a year old. I'd never been "east of Boston", and air travel with a toddler was a challenge. Nevertheless, this was a trip I'd dreamed about since childhood. To a native of the flat midwest prairie, the Cotswolds seemed like a fairyland. I was an Illinois farm girl, but I'd never smelled air so soft and fresh as this! Our intent was to drive from Heathrow to Airdrie, Scotland to stay with relatives, and our first night was spent in Moreton-In-Marsh. Next day we drove to Chipping Campden and stayed for a week - I never wanted to leave. In fact, we found ourselves peering into estate agents' windows and inquiring about job opportunities, and I think the locals were getting a little tired of our gentle prying ("What's the weather like, in winter? How far do you drive to work?"). Our hosts at the Eight Bells were charming, lovely people - it was my first stay in a pub, and I'd been worried about my little girl (this was before smoking bans, remember) but we felt completely at home, safe and welcomed. My baby took her first steps on the smooth ancient floorboards of the Eight Bells. This photograph reminds me of those beautiful days.