Out driving today, taking a countryside route to avoid roadworks, I was reminded it’s exactly twenty years since we first discovered our little market town.
We might attribute this discovery to angels, too, for it wasn’t on our radar at all. We were actually en route to view a property in Aylesbury, when I took a sudden and unexpected diversion through woodland.
At my side, my wife looked at me perplexed as I weaved my Ford Fiesta down winding country lanes until we finally arrived in the charming old town, pausing momentarily by a well-kept allotment and ancient cottages.
The rest is history. We eventually made it to our appointment in Aylesbury, but our heart was no longer in it, all of a sudden intrigued by the hamlet we’d discovered in the meeting of four valleys. Home, now, twenty years.
Last modified: 10 March 2025
