Monday morning, and with a need to check out Biggles’ Berkshire winter quarters, sort out some keys for an American visitor, and an ever growing pile of dirty washing, we made a dash down Claydon Locks in the wet, then moored up in the marina for a night or three. The bo’sun caught a train, then returned by car ready for the eventual disembarkation at the end of the season while the quartermaster fed the washing machine. Sir grumbled at being moored on a pontoon and having to put up with noisy ducks and hull-peckers.

The Brasenose Arms was welcoming again, but we were sad to see that the nice little coffee and cake shop was now an antique shop. Never understood how it could have made financial sense, so no surprise.

Errands and chores completed, washing dried, Song & Dance’s needs attended to etc. etc. and a fair weather forecast to hand, Thursday afternoon saw us leave the fleshpots of Cropredy for the open countryside again, and the promise of some music over the weekend at Banbury Folk Festival.