Avebury

Avebury is known for its standing stones. Stonehenge is not far away, and they all go together to make up a stone age landscape of a certain mystery. We will just never know for sure what it was all for. Some sort of temple, religious significance of some sort. Enigmatic. It would be more atmospheric without the extra tourists, but it seems churlish to banish all other daytrippers just so we could have the place to ourselves.

This weekend I was visiting friends in Bath. Always a pleasure to visit them, and now that their kids are grown up, they can be left at home and we can do what we fancy. Which for me meant being whisked away from the station straight to a country pub, with lovely views, real ales and ciders and of course good food. And thence to Avebury. But Avebury does have more than the standing stones. There is a great barn, now an interpretation centre (and ticket office) and Avebury Manor. The latter is a delightful spot.

The gardens are beautiful - with a special mention for the dahlias - and the house is quite remarkable too.

The interiors reflect a combination of styles as it grew from a modest Elizabethan house to a grand little residence with an art deco twist in the twenties. As its been heavily restored, they actually don't mind you sitting on the furniture.  Only touching the Chinese wallpaper is off limits.

This contraption is the Victorian equivalent of a cross-trainer.

But I think the couch is my more natural territory. And Lorna's.