On Sunday afternoon I took Abby and Alex for a ramble around this village, Prestbury: according to my book of walks the "second-most haunted village in England." There are apparently ghostly appearances regularly here, including a ghost horse whose neigh and galloping hooves can be heard in a lane, a group of Regency revellers, a black abbot who is seen in the church or in the churchyard, sometimes sitting on a tombstone, and a sad lady playing a spinnet...
We had a lovely, muddy walk through some misty fields and around the village. It was only after a good hour that Alex said, "This is rubbish. This is NOT the second most haunted village in England! We haven't even seen one yet. That book is talking rubbish." Oops - I think maybe he really was expecting to see one... (Then it became like one of those disappointing game drives where you don't see any animals but you keep telling the children, "Maybe there will be a lion around the next corner...")
Ghost-hunting or no, muddy walks through misty fields looks like being a regular part of life in England, and I love them. Love getting out into the countryside. And Gloucestershire has more than its share of beautiful countryside.
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