Dear Friends,

I am writing about my 8-day hike in the Cotswold’s in this blog. I am a pretty good writer, though verbose. And often redundant. If you can bear the style, read on.

I didn’t know what to expect on my journey. I just knew I wanted to go. I had wanted to hike the Moors in England for many years.

So, I hired “Mac’s Adventures” because they offered the opportunity to hike alone, providing directions through a satellite and “step by step” directions. I wrote the latter because – OH MY GOD – the Brits and their directions!

Mac’s transferred luggage from town to town, and reserved rustic yet upscale inns and hotels in each little town: Moreton-in-Marsh, Whitcombe, Chipping Camden, Bourton- on the -Water (this deserves pages of its own. Incredibly beautiful. Perhaps the most beautiful village I have ever seen in my life), Lower Slaughter, Upper Slaughter, Naunton, Guiting Power and finally, Broadway. Broadway’s hike was daunting: two miles straight up a hill to the “Tower,” then 4.5 more miles of rough terrain.

I learned some important things right away:

Bad idea to be alone. The British navigation system sucks. I got lost twice and walked in circles. There was NO ONE else on any trail, not that there was a trail.

I was pulled into pastures, walked in muddy woods and almost got clobbered by a wild pheasant who was flying through the trees. His belly was like a bowling ball.

I went down muddy ravines and fell twice. Since there was no one around to complain to, I got up and walked. I wasn’t hurt, but I should have been. That is an amazing fact: if you fall and no one sees you, are you hurt? Did you really fall?

I learned something else right away. That, no matter what, God directs. At one point I did not think I could go on but my feel kept moving forward without my awareness of asking them to do so.

I tried to follow a couple – two men – from San Francisco – but they were not willing to wait if I faltered and just pulled away when I asked them to slow down. This was a difficult test for me. Not just because I felt resentment, but I got lost. They turned a corner up ahead and disappeared. I suddenly found myself in a pasture with sheep, no footpath, and my navigation arrow was spinning, obviously not under the direction of the satellite.

So, as I faced a sheep, I asked God for help. Not from the sheep, the beautiful gentle creature, but I saw no one and had no IDEA where to go. There was nothing in view but pastures and fields and nothing as far as the eye could see. Absolutely no path.

So, I prayed. I asked God for help. WITHIN 60 SECONDS, a couple appeared and offered help.

I followed them through the field and magically a castle appeared. How did this happen? Where did they come from? Where did the castle come from? I had seen NO ONE AT ALL FOR HOURS.

This is another of the miracles I continue to experience. I am writing a separate blog post on miracles.

So, I went to the castle, probably the highlight of my trip. It was where Henry VIII and Anne Bolyen spent summers, and the sixth wife of Henry VIII, Catherine Parr, is buried there.

I have been fascinated with English history all my life. But I am particularly interested in the Reformation, and how the Anglican Church was formed. Henry VIII could not get an annulment from the Pope to divorce his Catholic wife, Catherine of Aragon, to marry the wild Anne Boleyn, so a church was formed to accommodate his beliefs and needs.

Another episode in history due to the vagaries of the penis.

Other wars are usually started because people fight over God (can you imagine?!) and claim their God is better than your God, your dick is bigger, your fortune is greater, your lands are YOURS, not theirs.

Wars are lies told by the ego to increase the ego’s presumed control and power over the truth.

The truth is that God lies in all of us, as us, for us, and perhaps the only peace we will ever know is that fact.

It’s enough for me.

And I send so much love and gratitude to you all,
Gopita