We left the cottage, heading down a few winding steps, with views of beautiful gardens on either side. It was late spring and the sky was now overcast with a gleaming grey. With a slight chill in the air, a line of birds sang a shrilling symphony. I buttoned my pale blue cardigan and swung my red handbag, as we clamoured down steps, and walked along the underground pass. On the far side, we were met with a cobbled stone path that lead to a series of gardens. Thick, neatly trimmed bushes lined mowed lawns. At the end, we walked downhill to a narrow river and crossed a little blue wooden bridge to Green Acre, a gateway to the hills and yellow meadows of East Vale.
We walked along a dirt road, past bushy trees, with pleasure leaves. The road plumeted to a red farm house. This was our first stop of the day. It was here that the farmer's wife, Nora Kindworthy, was promoting her latest produce and giving out free samples of fresh puddings and cream cakes..