Hemingford Abbots, near St. Ives in Cambridgeshire, is famously picturesque with a great many 16th and 17th Century thatched cottages, a 500-year-old pub and a church with a pointy steeple. I stopped there today for a late picnic lunch on a village bench, and as I ate I half thought I’d been set up thanks a succession of quintessential English-village stereotypes.
A cyclist passed a horse being led. Boys on bicycles pedalled the other way with girls on their handlebars. Two thatchers were plying their trade on a rooftop. A woman skitted behind a thatched cottage on her bicycle. A woman on a bicycle escorted a young girl, also on a bicycle, presumably from school.
Oh, and about that Spitfire: I kid you not, one did pass overhead, but not until I neared St Ives so, sadly, it doesn’t count.
Anyway, here are the photos. Is it always like this in Hemingford Abbots?
