After our coffees were consumed, we headed down the Gorge to find a place to eat our carefully prepared sandwiches. We wended our way down the hill past shops selling Cheddar and other items of varying cheesiness, past alternative cave experiences, babbling brooks, coffee shops, toffee emporia, the whole gamut - an irresistable travelogue of temptation for poor Eloise who, primitive nexus of immediate desire that she remains, demanded satisfaction for every outlet.
She had to wait a while though as food had to be inserted at our top ends and our bottom ends had to be unstoppered and allowed to empty with varying degrees of urgency. This was achieved in a small park just below a potentially picturesque but sadly half-empty pond where we ate, drank and frolicked.
Frolicking complete, we decided to go on the bus trip to take us back up to the top of the Gorge, and a lovely open-top bus it was too, but to the top of the Gorge it did not go - oh no, just a little way up the Gorge it went while we were regaled with no doubt fascinating and amusing stories about Cheddary history, none of which I remember.
James and Jane and their camp followers abandoned ship around this point leavingus stragglers to do other stuff, and we went around the second cave, whose name escapes me as so many minor details do these days, but whose rock formations were actually superior with most excellent stalactite and stalacmite action going on. We even went po-faced around the rubbish kids thingy whose rather laboured attempts to recreate the Lord of the Rings Eloise just sneered at. Cheesy indeed.
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