A tiny, unknown village in the north of Hampshire? Perhaps. A leafy little hamlet on the commuter trail to London? Maybe. My birthplace and residence? Pretty sure.
I’ve lived in Hartley Wintney all my life, for all the ups and downs that’s had, and I count myself privileged to have spent most of my living years in such a beautiful part of the world. I mean, I’ve been all over and seen some incredible sights (the Victoria Falls and the Grand Canyon are some highlights) but nothing beats the simply, homely beauty of this village and why I’ll always be drawn back to it.
Not just because it’s got my favourite pub in it.
On my first outing in pursuit of improving my photography (and likely a few more afterwards) I just walked around the village with an open mind and the will to climb on walls and lamp posts or crawl in ditches to get a decent picture. Hopefully they came out alright.
You tell me.