Sure, I could move to a city with 24-hour supermarkets and decent public transport. But then I’d miss the Faringdon Folly—that weird 100-foot tower on a hill. Locals call it “the lighthouse of the Cotswolds.” It’s not; but it’s our thing, you know?
I love that I can walk to the pubs on a Friday night and get a proper welcome. Strangers say “morning” on the street. And when the annual scarecrow festival rolls around, the whole town goes bonkers. Last year, someone turned their front garden into a tribute to the Bee Gees. Stayin’ alive, indeed.
Horse & Jockey Faringdon Photos at Christy Carter blog
The Ironic Bits (Because There Are Always Some)
Let’s be real: it’s also a bit slow. The biggest Friday night drama is whether the chip shop runs out of mushy peas. I’ve overheard arguments about hedge height that lasted longer than most marriages. And don’t get me started on the parking situation—it’s like a game of Tetris, but with more bumper-denting.
But the irony? That’s part of the charm. You can’t have a proper market town without a healthy dose of lovely absurdity. We’re not pretending to be perfect; we’re just getting on with it.
