we arrive in Bourton-on-the-Water ... I cant decide if I was last here in 1968 or 1970 ... perhaps Ron will know?
it is heaving ... the weather is beautiful, sunny, incredibly beautiful ... and everyone has decided that Bourton is the place to be - the coach trips, the motorists, the bikers and the dog-walkers ... and children everywhere ... runing, shouting crying but most of all paddling, addling in the stream that I have vague memories of paddling in myself some 40 years ago ...
Benedict and I grab our gear ... the case with Benedicts cameras, the tripod, my cameras and, of course, the jug ... the first "performance" of the trip ...
the location is self selecting ... one of the bridges over the stream under a tree ... i have decided to photograph each jug at arms length - I hold the jug in my left hand, arm outstretched, camera in right hand ... Benedict sets up with is medium format and photographs me photographing the jug ... a performance we will repeat several times during this journey ...
three small children have been watching ... they come and talk to us "we are from Swindon ... we are staying in a caravan ... we walked two miles here ... dad's gone to get the car ..." they ask Benedict if he will take their photograph ... "No..." but he then goes on to explain how the camera works ... and in 60 seconds, they have vanished ...
we pack our cameras away, have a cup of tea, and head off for Bath through the gentle undulations of the Cotswolds, all warm and vibrant in the evening sun ...
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