The second day out towards Chipping Norton was by far the hardest. It was hot. There were hills. To be specific, there was one long hill that lasted nearly ten miles. No kidding. A two to three percent grade might not seem much on paper, but mile upon mile, hauling the equivalent of your own weight in gear, it wears you down. Trust me.
We ate lunch in a postcard. A lovely little roadside pub with climbing vines flowering on the stone walls; ancient homes with thatched roofs leading off around the curve DOWN the hill. Surely the afternoon would be better, we all agreed.

Ha.

True, we started off down hill. But then came the up hills. No three percent grades here, these were UP hills. We were off and pushing, hill after hill, after hill. Two more miles, Daddy said. Surely there couldn’t be another hill as bad as the last one. Nope. The last one was worse. Ezra, scuffing his shoes along behind my bike proclaimed that we were “climbing Mt. Everest.” So it seemed.
The good news: The camp site was lovely. An aging farm with a stone farm house. Penned animals for the children to pet: chickens, bunnies, guinea pigs, and lambs. Nicely mowed paths. Hot showers for free and, best of all, pain chocolat to be ordered for breakfast. The kids would get to try their first chocolate bread, fudgey goodness layered in flakey croissant type dough. “Heaven,” as Elisha declared it.
We set up our tents, showered and headed down the mile long mowed path into town to have a delicious dinner out, Megan’s Mother’s Day treat to me. Spirits were high. Until we’d sat for thirty minutes awaiting our menu, another thirty minutes awaiting a server to place our order, and watched another table of people lied to in order to get them out the door without eating. The waiter admitted as much to us. It became apparent that we weren’t going to be served. So, we hauled our exhausted selves out of our chairs at eight o’clock… past boy bedtime… and ended up eating pre-made sandwiches on the roadside with chocolate bars on the side.

Mama was so tired she cried. The kids, of course, declared “snacky dinner” the best dinner ever and we trooped back up the hill to our tents. It was a hard day for all. The one bright point was the hot bath I got to take. 50p for hot water… which only half filled the tub… so it was really a one pound bath. For those of you figuring exchange, yes, I really did spend two bucks on a tub full of water. After the day we’d had, it was worth every penny.