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Sundays in Brill - Windmills and Flirting Cocker Spaniels

A sunny, winter Sunday! What else can you really ask for?
It's the perfect excuse to put your wellies on, roam around the fields and then when you can't feel your face anymore, walk into a warm pub, cosy up in a big armchair with a cup of coffee and breath in the burning wood smell from the lit fireplace.
I tell you - you have to get out of London!
On the Sunday, just before the Big Chill that hit Britain last week, the weather was so gloriously sunny that we just couldn't allow for it to go to waste.
So out we ventured on the Chiltern Hills, in search of Brill Windmill.
After driving through the unexpectedly beautiful Long Crendon, dotted with old barns, thatched roofs and crooked beamed cottages, we got to Brill.

The Windmill is on the edge of the village, standing there, on its' own amongst green hills.
No entry fees, no fences, just a 16th century post windmill. No biggie?
The terrain around the Windmill is interesting - sharp gorge-like ditches and tiny little molehills covered in grass. The views are amazing, all the way to the Oxfordshire plains.
The scene is a cross between a Dutch Rembrandt painting set in Constable's English countryside.  

If you have a dog, bring it along too! People walking their dogs all around the village and the windmill, or to be fair, the dogs were setting the pace in most occasions!
A Jack Russell shooting around in all directions like a rocket.
A baby Bulldog with the sniffles! Ha!
A Dachshund, aka sausage dog, with a little tartan coat on. We felt really left out, not having a four-legged pal with us. 

Even the village pub is called The Pointer and welcomes dogs too!
We lodged ourselves in big, comfy armchairs and order coffees with Amaretto.
On a neighbouring sofa by the fireplace, a lady was rocking a baby in her arms, so we tried to be quiet, thinking she is trying to put the baby to sleep... only to realise eventually that the baby was an old and frail greyhound that has to be kept in a blanket. That's dedication!
This certainly didn't put a little cheeky Cocker Spaniel off, trying to flirt with the Greyhound! 
I almost lost my husband, as plates loaded with Sunday roast were going by.
My eye caught some humongous Yorkshires passing, we looked at each other and said: "we are definitely coming back for lunch".
In the meantime, alongside our coffees, we had the most interesting and moist date cake, topped with butterscotch froth and Weetabix ice cream - so clever and utterly delicious.

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