Weds – June 22 – When I made it to Lacock, I found it to be a tiny English town, with essentially 4 streets in sort of a square. The entire town is owned by the National Trust, with the exception of the building that I was staying in, the Lacock Pottery. It wasn’t a historical Pottery – it was an actual Pottery, a business, and my landlords, David and Simone made pottery and have a shop there in the building. They sell other people’s works as well. I didn’t get a good sense of their styles because they have been spending so much time renovating a house they have in another town, that they haven’t had time to build up their own stock, so the store is mostly filled with the work of other people at the moment.
The house is built in 1833 and is the only house in Lacock that is not owned by the National Trust. We are fed breakfast and they have an evening drink with the vistors in the sitting room.
Simone was very pleasant, probably late 60’s. The gardens around the house were very nice, small, but rich with an aesthetic pallet of colors. Loads of sweet smells in the evening.
I wanted to do my best to sleep, so I tok a walk around the village to find where the Lacock Abbey was that I would see tomorrow, and to find some food. The Abbey was very easy to find (there are literally 4 streets here!) and a nice fish and chips from the Red Lion was a good end to the day. Earlier when I had arrived I saw some rowdy older men, all dressed in what looked like knee britches and suspenders and white shirts doing some kind of a dance with white balloons in the street. Were they balloons or were they pig badders from San Sebastian?
Full and hopefully tired, I walked in the late bright evening (midsummer’s eve) back to the Pottery and waiting sleep (I hope…)
penworthy 