By the time we arrived at Clifton Lock the weather had turned dull and cloudy with light rain. Onwards under Clifton Bridge, Not long after this we were bothe overtaken by this giant plastic cruiser called ‘Mystique’ who was in a hurry. Wonder how much fuel he is using to the mile?
We were gongoozeled from Little Wittenham Footbridge, then down days Lock by which time we were getting a bit weary. We hadn’t spotted any suitable moorings so had to keep going. Round a sharp bend we passed the fabulous Shillingford Court, then a Tjalk moored up at Shillingford Hotel. We swung around to moor facing upstream to moor there too. Whilst I was tying Oakfield up this woman strolled down, wine in hand and casually asked where we had come from, ‘Oxford’ says I. Then she said did we live aboard and how did we get our mail? I replied ‘yes’ and ‘we don’t get any’. Why do these people feel the need for an inquisition when you are trying to concentrate on mooring up on a fast flowing river! On going up to enquire how much it was to stay overnight we were told £15, but were charged £10 after Carolyn turned on her charm! Dearest mooring cost so far, but we were exhausted and in need of a rest.
So there we go, moored with the wonderful stone arched bridge in the background. The view from the porthole was this lovely boathouse opposite. The chairs came out on the bank and we discussed the events of the day over tea and biscuits, what could be better? As Gary says,’Just the Ticket.’