Petersfield

I dislike shopping, so does my partner.  Last year, a couple of days before Christmas, we couldn’t avoid it any longer. I pulled the sickie card on him. “I am too ill to go shopping on my own,” I whined.

“Where do you want to go?” he sighed.

“Petersfield.”

“Petersfield, Hampshire?” He was incredulous. He was half-expecting Harrods, Harvey Nichols, Selfridges….though I DON’T shop there. That’s just his prejudice.

And so we went to Petersfield and shopping was surprisingly enjoyable, with the Christmas lights and carol singers. My happiness knew no bounds that day.

Today, the Christmas lights and carol singers weren’t there, being the height of summer, but it is still a lovely market town from my childhood nonetheless. The Seven Stars pub just on the outskirts does good lunch – a sandwich for less than five pounds.  Petersfield is just so sweet and my heart swells with happiness each time I am here, walking the happy tracks of my youth.