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Meg Hurst. Bishops Cleeve

L i t e r a t u r e  &  p h o t o g r a p h y

Growing up on the edge of the Cotswolds, the location is mainly defined by the hills.

 

Although I’ve not lived there for a while now, whenever I go back – whether that’s on the train, or down the M5 – watching the hills unfurl as I get closer is one of my favourite things. Each hill holds a special significance, and a memory that is always hard to describe to people who aren’t from Gloucestershire.
 

The hills appear as follows; Cooper’s Hill, Leckhampton Hill, Cleeve, and Nottingham.


The first is best known for its cheese rolling. Competitors run/tumble after a wheel of cheese down a very steep hill. A few of my friends were banned from competing by their parents as a fair amount of people end up in A&E, but I still joke that it’d be fun to compete in or watch, even if you’re at risk of being hit by flying cheese.


Sitting on Leckhampton Hill looking out over town in my dad’s green Mondeo having just ordered a lot of Burger Star holds a special place in my heart. My mum would always say the milkshakes were gross – something she maintains to this day.
 

Cleeve Hill was there from there from year 7, till I moved away from the area. When I was younger it was an inconvenient block between myself and my best friend in the next village over. From the top, you can see Tewkesbury and the Malvern Hills, and on a clear day the Severn Bridge sparkles in the distance, the entrance to the place I now call home. It was the setting for divorce, a Saturday job, my first breakup, and my A Levels.


The final hill, Nottingham, holds my favourite and most cherished hometown memories. From being chased by cows you didn’t see till it was too late, to having farmers shout “get off my land”, this hill inadvertently became a backdrop for three generations of my family to have walked, and lived, and to have called their own. My dad will still mention how he misses The Hill, despite being 6,000 odd miles away from it.
 

Although I’ve done my best to distance myself from Gloucestershire, and I don’t visit as much as I should, I can’t deny the feeling that rises in me whenever I see those hills. For me, home really is where the hills are.

IG: meghurstt

Curated by Millie Bethel. 

All work is copyrighted to the artist or author. © Love Letters To My Hometown 2020. 

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