4.5 hours

It heaved it down with rain for six hours solid last night. But, when I opened the hatch this morning, I was delighted to find that it seemed to have made very little difference to the river conditions. Today's journey was cold and windy enough to need gloves, but also sunny enough to need shades....

Good day Sunshine, in November!

Straight through Henley



Hail Isis!

Stopped by Temple Island.

There was no sign of the 'Willow Brook' boat (Mr. SRB moorings), so I took a chance and pulled over to make myself some more coffee and let beastie off quickly. Thankfully, he did not pop out of the bushes and demand any money today.

Hambledon Lock. Self-Service.

Downstream of Rememenenham

Medmenenemham Abbey

Straight through Marlow

Nobody seems to stop on Marlow's Higginson park moorings anymore. I'm not surprised, given that it is £11 a night to stay there now. Shot themselves in the foot with that one. Unless their intention was to utterly clear the place of boats. In which case, they've been spectacularly successful. 

Cardboard Castle. Still being renovated.

Surprisingly, it only took 4.5 hours (and 3 espressos) to get myself from Shiplake, down to Bourne End. I think this is a new record for dogma. Didn't feel like I was rushing it, either. The engine stayed cool all the way, so maybe that fountain from the header tank shifted some crud about in a beneficial manner.

Sheena was mortified to read that I'd pinched some of Uri's winter log stash. But the spirit of Dick Turpin made me do it. Ie: Probably not the first time that a wealthy man has been relieved of some coins in Sonning. :) She said:- "You will probably burn them with great satisfaction." Which I must confess, is true. :) I should also point out, that I 'found' them laying on the towpath outside his house. Not in his private garden. A dead, rootless tree, which had fallen in the river. It had to be disposed of. Somehow. :)

"Nice bit of beech!", said the lock-keeper at Marlow. I was impressed that he knew what wood it was, just from a quick glance. And also that he was a log connoisseur. Because they really are fine bits of beech.