SWMBO decided that a trip down memory lane and a visit to the Beale Park Wildlife establishment was called for, and in the absence of hundreds of peacocks, a pleasant time was had by all (Biggles remaining on guard, asleep, on the boat). While Fran was trying to work out which bird was the Norwegian Blue…

… the local mallards had formed an escape committee, although the brightly coloured occupants of the prison  seemed unimpressed.

The Egyptian Geese have decided to recruit one of their family as a Charity Mugger who demanded funds for the bird-food slot machine with extreme prejudice: could teach the Canal and River Trust chuggers a thing or two!

Our many trips north of Hadrian’s Wall meant that Hairy Coos were hardly a novelty, but we’d never come across their porcine relatives before. They were really quite sweet, and are often kept as pets in New Zealand, apparently.

And Meerkats really do stand upright, keeping guard.

An uneventful departure from Oxford, and a remarkably quiet  (traffic wise) cruise down towards Abingdon in rather dull weather. Song & Dance’s washing machine only works when plugged in to a shore line, and the dirty washing pile was showing signs of taking over the boat. We knew of electric services several days further down the river at Goring Lock, but really needed something before them, and launderettes never appeal. A chance conversation with an Abingdon based cruiser in Sandford Lock regarding the possibility of overnighting in Abingdon Marina elicited the reply “No chance, but there’s a hook-up at Abingdon Lock, even though it’s not listed: Richard (the lock keeper) will sort you out” and off they zoomed.

Having failed to contact the lock on the phone, when we arrived at Abingdon Lock, Frank the volunteer came straight over to us and said “Are you the boat wanting overnight mooring with a hook-up?”  before directing us to a spot on the weir island. Perfick. And it was just like a lovely private garden, the other side from all the hurley-burley of the lock traffic. (There was a small notice saying you could camp there, but there were no takers). As a bonus, a pleasant 15 minute walk through the woods and Abbey Gardens took you straight to a large Waitrose. What more could one ask for? Many thanks to Richard and Frank for the hospitality.

The weather was lovely and we sat in our “garden” in the warm sunshine while the washing machine worked overtime, watched the passing traffic – proper job gongoozlers – and ended up staying another day. Also said hello to a passing David Piper boat of some vintage heading for Liverpool, and still going strong.

Duckling and gosling production seems to be building up fast, although we haven’t spotted any cygnets yet. On the way to Waitrose a male and female mallard and a solitary tufted duck were quietly paddling and dabbling around together in one of the overgrown back-waters, when a  moorhen (usually a pretty low key bird) steamed out of the undergrowth at flank speed and, with extreme prejudice, saw the tufty off the premises. Never seen a moorhen behave like that before. Wonder he had against tufted ducks.

Having overstayed somewhat in Jericho, but needing to be back in Oxford so someone could catch a train to rescue the car from Cropredy, then head for home to pick up post, parcels etc., a quick overnight trip up The Thames seemed in order. The journey up through Port Meadows to Eynsham in bright sunshine was quite delightful, with hundreds of Greylag Geese lining the banks, a cormorant perched precariously and ominously on a blasted oak, and a  bunch of (common?) terns whizzing past. The river itself was full of strange and vaguely unpleasant looking black and brown stuff floating past; sometimes huge floating islands of it. Given the number of geese around and the mess they make on the ground we had a horrible feeling it might be related to them, but a lock-keeper (yes they still exist, sometimes) assured us it was some kind of debris coming up from the river bed: probably last year’s leaf litter or something.

While negotiating a tight hairpin bend just above Duke’s Lock, Fran remarked that in the copse on the inside of the bend she could see a bloke’s bare bum pumping up and down in some energetic al-fresco bonking: clearly spring has arrived! Too busy trying to get round the bend without hitting the outside bank I missed the rutting, but did wonder if you can get some kind of automatic porn filter for a boat, to avoid any further possible distraction as spring progresses.

Decent moorings on The Thames aren’t easy to find, so we were pleased when the Eynsham Lock keeper said we could moor just below the lock for the night, with the promise of a pump-out and fresh water the next morning.

At the lock was a blackboard with the message “England does Spring the best” with which it is hard to disagree, and may well have been aimed at the couple downstream, but the impact was somewhat lessened by being next to another blackboard saying “Pump-out Out of Order”.  The latter proved to be to our advantage, as being only partially broken, it needed “testing” the next morning so we had use of the facility for free: what a nice lock keeper!

After seeing to the boat’s needs (it’s always nice seeing the water gauge reading Full and the waste gauge reading Empty), a trip to Eynsham in search of beer, lunch and provisions provided a pleasant interlude before returning downriver to Oxford. The toll bridge only charged 5p for a car and 20p for a double-decker bus: the Severn Crossing take note! The first ducklings of the trip were duly spotted, but there didn’t seem to be any repeat of the other shenanigans even though eyes were kept firmly peeled…