Death By Cream Tea - 31st August

This is being written three weeks late, because I simply haven't had a moment since we went away for our treehouse weekend to update you.

Bath, and all the associated little villages of Wiltshire, was fantastic. I think it's entirely possible though that Wiltshire was trying to kill me with its cream teas. Stopped in Sally Lunn's tea shop for an archetypal Bath Bun, which was slavered not only with clotted cream, but also with cinnamon butter. Had tea in a tea shop that had been serving since 1502 (The Bridge, in Bradfrod-on-Avon, where they brought me a knife ahead of the soup and I joked that I hadn't expected to have to cut it. Then it came, and it turned out I did). Had phenomenal fried fish at the Fleur De Lys in Norton St Phillips. Best of all though, had tea, twice, in King John's Hunting Lodge tea rooms in Lacock village. That last was extra special not only because I have a special interest in King John, and not just because everything they made was almost fanatically superb, but because we got to meet and chat with Margaret, the woman who owns and runs it. She took it over decades ago when it was a wreck and she ran a restaurant. She rebuilt it, opened it and now runs it with both the sweetness and steel of a natty Miss Marple. When we met her, she was 86 and looking a more sprightly 63, making sure her visitors were having a great experience. She also told us that she'd just come out of major surgery some eight weeks before, and was heading back for more in a few months. If you want a lesson in human inspiration (with a kick-ass cake variety), check out King John's in Lacock.

However, all this dietary laissez-faire, coupled with an altogether 'on your holidays' approach to exercise, led to a weigh-in when I came back from this break of 18st 4lbs - surprisingly lenient, considering everything that I'd shoved into my system over the long weekend. Great break, but clearly, must do better.