How very English

Over the past couple of weeks, as the weather finally broke and summer hovered briefly over this green and pleasant land, I decided to take my children on some very traditional days out.

I had two particular locations in mind. The first was Bekonscot Model Village, which is set deep in the heart of Buckinghamshire in the small town of Beaconsfield. This model village is the oldest of its kind dating back over 80 years to the late 1920s and it’s a place that I haven’t visited since I was a child.

Bekonscot proved to be the most colourful day out we could possibly have imagined. Towering like giants over the pint-sized buildings the children thoroughly enjoyed discovering a world that could easily have sprung up from their own vivid imaginations.

In striking contrast, we then went on to one of my favourite places – The Hell Fire Caves in West Wycombe. Engulfed in the cool darkness we made our way through those fabulous hand carved tunnels to the Hell that is the centre before making the near vertical climb up to the mausoleum that resides high on the hill above.

The second choice of location was the tiny village of Harpole, just on the edge of Northampton. We visited the village a couple of years ago and were completely taken with their wonderful annual Scarecrow Festival. Traditional scarecrows mingled with their twenty-first century friends and created a buzzing, country atmosphere. Again, colour was in abundance with their obviously patriotic theme. Set against a bright blue sky, and with flowers that would put any self-respecting rainbow to shame, the whole village simply sparkled.

More pics on my flickr ->

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2 thoughts on “How very English

  1. Diane says:

    How lovely, I haven’t been to a model village since I was a child but there was one quite near where we lived and I used to love going there. Isn’t it super that children can still enjoy that sort of thing even in this digital age.

  2. hettyfrancis says:

    thanks for conjuring up some poignant memories Jen, many days spent racing around after a tiny Roman hoping he doesn’t fall onto the tracks! And I will always remember a picnic I had with Gemma on west wycombe hill. The kids playing ball games and us relaxing and laughing in the sun.

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