On the hottest day of the year, we'd cycled from Cirencester to North Cerney House to visit the gardens.
It had been a gradual six miles climb before a steep hill up their driveway.
I arrived sweating profusely and my cycling cap (under my crash helmet) was soaking wet.
Rather than stroll around under the midday sun, we discovered a shady woodland walk.
Halfway round was a bench to relax on, while my hat dried off on this fallen tree.
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