We cruised past the Royal Crescent apartments and hotel on our way out of Bath. Gordon impressed me with his able command of the bus in tight driving situations. Tight by American standards. Brits in general are used to driving on tiny roads with little buffer room between lanes and oncoming traffic. We drove through the Cotswolds, an area of outstanding natural beauty, on our way to Banbury.
My father bounced me on his knee and sang to me about Banbury when I was a wee lad. Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross. We saw the cross on our way to the hotel, in the middle of a traffic circle, and that was Banbury for me. It was a rainy evening and the lot of us, Marc, Tom, Melissa, the Judys, and myself, camped out in the bar for the night. Marc urged me not to inquire with the locals about the availability of a cock-horse, but I was ready to invade the city center after a few G&Ts, on horseback if need be - but need not be, and so to bed.