A Step-by-Step Encounter With the Cotswolds : West England’s hill country rewards the slow inspection of the walker--even when the going gets a little wet.

My wife and I arrived in the seaport city of Bristol on a bright sunny Saturday in late May last year, still somewhat disoriented after an all-night flight that was followed by another sleepless night in a London hotel room perched above a noisy intersection. Not an auspicious beginning to an eight-day hike through West England’s Cotswolds. The weather was no more cooperative than our London hotelier. After one of the driest and warmest springs in memory, the skies opened on Monday, drenching us as we slipped and stumbled over country footpaths. We would experience three more days of intermittent rain. At day’s end, boots soaked and caked with mud and muscles sore from six or more miles of hiking, one thankfully stretched full length in those blessedly long English tubs that can be found even in remote village inns.

So why would a vacationer submit to such discomfort? The best answer is that there is no more intimate way to experience a country’s landscape, people and history than by natural locomotion. Darting from place to place by tour bus or rented vehicle may protect the traveler from the uncertainties of weather, but it restricts one to well-traveled roads and popular attractions. Hiking opens up seldom-seen vistas and villages, helps to counter the inevitable vacation weight gain, and provides a close-up glimpse of country life that in West England has changed remarkably little over the years.

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The Cotswolds offer a great deal to the vacationer interested in rural life and scenic beauty. Nowhere in Britain, say the guidebooks, has the underlying geology had such a dominant effect on landscape and architecture. Limestone lying close to the surface provided a readily available building material for manor houses, barns, churches, cottages and stone walls. The oldest habitable stone structure in all of England, we were told, is a 12th-Century building in the market town of Chipping Campden, its sturdy walls pierced by iron braces to prevent them from spreading further. Slate struck from the limestone covers the steeply pitched roofs. So indestructible is this material that the supporting beams decay first, producing the characteristic sagging seen in many Cotswold buildings.

The other great influence on the Cotswolds was wool. (The name itself derives from the Anglo-Saxon cote , meaning sheepfold, and wold , a tract of uncultivated land.) Vast flocks of sheep roamed the Cotswold hills during the Middle Ages. The wool was at first exported raw to Europe but later gave birth to a cloth industry that created immense fortunes for wool and cloth merchants. This wealth found expression in the region’s magnificent churches and manor houses, one of the larger of which is owned by Prince Charles.

At one time, Stroud, a hill town of 20,000 that we visited, was the cloth-making capital of the west of England, with some 150 water-- powered mills situated on the banks of five fast-flowing rivers converging on the town. Today Stroud still makes cloth--for billiard tables, tennis balls and the Pope’s garments--and it is famous for the distinctive scarlet dye that colors the uniforms of London’s palace guards.

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Mick Cooper, a retired policeman, and his wife, Joan, helped guide us on Monday, the day we got so thoroughly drenched. “They say if you live in Stroud, it helps to have one leg longer than another,” quipped Mick Cooper, referring to the difficulty of navigating Stroud’s steep hills. A former Naval officer who took part in the disastrous raid on Dieppe early in World War II, he had the impossible job of trying to point out interesting landmarks through the mist as we walked across the top of the Cotswold escarpment. Finally he gave up, and we trudged along until we reached a small church at Coberly, where the heart of a knight is said to be interred in the church walls. Inside was a plaque listing the names of parish rectors for the past 700 years. Near it was another plaque commemorating a former rector’s three sons who died in military service in World War II.

Our luncheon stop that chilling day was a cozy crossroads pub in Uley, where the most popular fare was a delicious mushroom-and-port soup. The English pub has long been venerated as a warm and democratic social institution, and it is particularly true of the country pubs. Farmer and traveler stand elbow to elbow at the bar, where food is ordered as well as the customary pint of bitter or lager. The pub is a place to linger and chat; everyone is welcome regardless of status, including foreigners. Ask the English or Irish what they miss most when away from their homeland, and the often-heard answer is “the pub.”

On another day of our hike through the Cotswolds, this one blessed by a bright sun, our guides were Dick and Joyce Mull, wardens of the Cotswold Voluntary Service, which was organized after the Cotswolds were designated in 1966 as an “area of outstanding natural beauty.” The wardens patrol and mark the footpaths, clear them of brush, build and repair the wooden stiles for scaling fences, and rebuild the stone walls. A major responsibility is maintaining the Cotswold Way, a 100-mile-long north-south route linking rights of way over which hikers may pass. By marking and maintaining the footpaths, the wardens insure they are kept open for public use.

Our group was made up of 18 people who had been assembled by British Coastal Trails, the corporate name of a British couple, Barbara and Perry Taylor, experienced hikers who now live in the United States and who have been organizing walking tours of the most scenic areas of England, Scotland and Ireland for eight years. They advertise “unspartan” tours that strike a balance between sightseeing and leisurely walking covering six to seven miles a day. Stays are in country inns.

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Our leader throughout the tour was Bob Porton, a retired personnel officer for a British trucking company and registered tour guide for the West Country. Except for a missed turn on the last day that added a couple of hours to a hike that ended up at a small-scale Stonehenge, he led us expertly over rolling uplands and river walks, providing commentary on historic sites and personages, the local economy, church and village architecture, and British royalty.

If Porton and our other guides are representative, the West Country people tend to be a conservative lot, supportive of queen and crown, distrustful of urban ways, dismissive of politicians (particularly from the Labor party), skeptical of union with the rest of Europe, and united in love of land and tradition. Most distasteful, although they will not say it directly, are the “travelers”--youthful dropouts from the cities with their spiked and colored hair who can be seen lounging in the public parks even in this part of England.

Yet the English have a way of coping with unpleasantries, often dismissing them with humor. It is evident in small ways, as for example when Porton would artfully parry the insolent gibes of our group. When he held up in the bus one day a book on British royalty that we might want to pick up at a bookstore, one of us remarked: “Why would we be interested in that?” To which he replied, “Who was your last king?”

The most welcome person we saw at the end of each day’s hiking was Tootsie, the driver of the minivan who would deposit us each day at the point where our walk began, and then travel country roads to pick us up where the walk ended. He did not once miss a rendezvous, nor did he hesitate in negotiating the narrow, winding country roads, where clearances with opposing cars were measured in inches. Tootsie was not at all embarrassed by his name, given to him by his sisters who borrowed it from an old Al Jolson tune. He confided to us that his real name was Salvatore, and that he was the son of Sicilian parents who had emigrated to England.

Among the more intimidating people in our group were Hank, a retired federal employee, and Mary, a California couple in their 70s who had previously trekked through Nepal and after the Cotswolds were going up to Yorkshire and the English Lake District for a 10-day walking tour. Although they often fell behind the younger members of the group, they never missed a walk, even in the rain. Others, too, possessed this British-seeming stoic quality, including a woman from Maryland with Parkinson’s disease and another from Nashville, a widow, also in her 70s, who had trouble with her feet. Only rarely would they quit to take refuge in the bus. The latter lady was accompanied by her granddaughter, a college student. Other members of our group included a lawyer from Cincinnati; a retired woman superintendent of schools from Clinton, Mass.; a businessman, his wife and daughter from Ft. Worth, Tex., and a professional couple from Simi Valley.

We ended our tour at the place it began, the Hotel Avon Gorge in Bristol overlooking the River Avon, where the tide rises 30 feet.

It fell to me to express the group’s appreciation to our guide and driver. Fortunately, the date provided me with a hook; it was the 48th anniversary of the Allied invasion of Europe, an event that had also been dogged by the uncertainties of the English weather but had ended in victory. The ties of common history, culture and character that came together in that vast Anglo-American enterprise were also present in our Cotswolds mini-adventure; we, too, had triumphed over adversity.

GUIDEBOOK

By Foot Through the Cotswolds

Getting there: Our eight-day Cotswolds package, which began in Bristol, covered virtually everything except lunch. The only other costs were air fare from the United States to London, hotel for one night in London and transportation from London to Bristol. The latter can be accomplished either by train from Paddington Station (round-trip cost is about $95 per person, much less if travelers use the BritRail pass) or by bus, which is considerably cheaper at about $25 round trip.

The tour: We booked our walking tour with Barbara and Perry Taylor, owners of British Coastal Trails, 1001 B Ave., Suite 302, Coronado 92118, telephone (619) 437-1211. Besides the Cotswolds, the company leads walking tours in England’s Lake District, Wales, Cornwall, the Yorkshire Dales, Scottish Highlands and Ireland’s County Kerry. The Cotswolds are apparently the most popular--12 tours this year from May to October, up from nine last year. Package price for the eight-day trip this year is $1,795 per person.

What to bring: Tour leaders advise participants to travel light (one bag per person) since there is not much storage room in the minivan. Recommended for travel are a lightweight rainproof jacket, hat, small backpack and lightweight walking boots. If you’re out of shape, try to do some aerobic conditioning before you go.

More walking tours: Numerous companies offer walking tours in the Cotswolds and other areas of Great Britain. Among them, taken from a list provided by the British Tourist Authority: The Wayfarers, Brayton, Aspatria, Cumbria CA5 3PT, England, from U.S. phones 011-44-69-73-22383; Countrywide Holidays, Dept. BFW, Birch Heys, Cromwell Range, Manchester M14 6HU, tel. 011-44-61-225-1000, and Footpath Holidays, 16 Norton Bavant, Wiltshire BA12 7BB, tel. 011-44- 985-40049. You can book direct or through your travel agent.

For more information: Contact the British Tourist Authority, 350 S. Figueroa St., Suite 450, Los Angeles 90071, tel. (213) 628-3525.