to the top of the Thames

Having gone as far as Teddington, the limit of the locked section of the Thames heading south, we decided we absolutely had to go as far as possible in the other direction; we joined the Thames at Oxford last year, vaguely aware of the meandering opportunites if we took a right turn but more interested in heading south towards friends in Henley and castles in Windsor - we weren’t disappointed; it was a fabulous sunny week at the close of summer and we had a long lazy evening on the river bank at Eton, shared an apple with a bank vole at Cookham and drinks and dinner with those friends in Henley before joining the Kennet and Avon at Reading.

This year, though, we’re taking more time, slowing down (yes, we’d begun to feel that even our 3 miles an hour average speed on That’s Amore was taking us through places a little too quickly) and so a slow-paced adventure to the navigable start of the Thames just had to be done.

Heading north and then west from Oxford, the river does more than meander - it almost goes round in circles in places; travel any faster and it would be like a dizzying merry-go-round. But at 3mph the main concern is what lays beyond the switchback bends; it could be an oncoming boat or a tree half-blocking the way, whichever, there’s not a lot of space for complete relaxation at the helm.

Navigational hazards aside, it’s a beautiful stretch of river. From Godstow Abbey (linked historically with The Fair Rosamund and currently with an inquisitve herd of cows) to Newbridge (originally built in the 13th century but not quite the oldest on the Thames) and on to Lechlade, their are snippets of quirky history and delightful names - who wouldn’t stop for the night at The Trout at Tadpole Bridge?

We finally, lazily, arrived at Lechlade - the furthest point possible in a narrowboat - and felt quite a sense of achievement - maybe not quite like reaching the source of the Nile, but a definite feeling of completion. We walked a little further along the river and had a wander round Lechlade, a Cotswoldy small town with a fair selection of pubs with a fair variety of rules and regulations to keep us safe from Covid 19 and a shop selling only Christmas things. This unfortunately will be my abiding memory of Lechlad.

We’ve now turned around and will soon be back on the Oxford canal. I would have written that the wildlife has been quite non-descript; a few swans and geese, one heron and the odd moorhen. Until, this morning, when that most frustrating of birds flew past me and disapperaed into a tree. It did a great impression of an autumnal leaf (but they don’t dive for fish) and then, finally, it settled on a bush straight opposite me and l grabbed a couple of shots. So we’re staying here for an extra day, in the hope that the lovely kingfisher will show itself again, when the light is perfect and I’m in position in the cratch, that it will land on a clear branch for a minute or two then dive and catch a fish…I’m still the eternal optimist…

and the best pub of this blog is…The Trout at Tadpole Bridge - mainly because of the name, but also because it’s a wonderful place to park up - don’t buy the peanuts (£3.50 a bag!!!) and don’t expect an internet signal on your boat (walk up to the beer garden for that) - grab a pint and enjoy watching the paddle-boarders, dog-walkers and swimmers scrambling up and down the bank on the opposite side of the river.

Click on any of the images above if you’d like to see them full size, comment or message me if you’d like and, above all, stay safe, well and happy.

Phil xx

The River Wey Navigation, 1st attempt

Bad weather certainly stopped play for us.

24 hours into our 3 week exploration of the River Wey Navigation 17 trees crashed down - they narrowly missed a holiday boat (who knew a narrowboat break could be so exciting?), blocked the canal and towpath and thereby stopped us where we were, which was one lock on the right side of not being totally stuck.

The River Wey Navigation (I do like its full title) is a little-known section of the British waterways that joins the Thames at Shepperton and starts (or ends) in Godalming, Surrey - it was opened in 1653, allowing goods to be transported in both directions on horse-drawn barges built to carry 30 tons. Oak was carried downstream to the Thames for use in shipbuilding and corn brought back upstream for the mills along the waterway (thanks National Trust for the historic details).

After 72 hours the canal was still unpassable, so we turned around and moved back onto the Thames where we’re waiting to see if we’ll have time to get back on the Wey before the weather becomes too unpredictable for us and our little boat.

So, 72 hours, 4 miles and 4 locks…that’s not a lot of time or distance and yet, it was quite magical in parts, and quite drearily wet and sandy in others.

Magical smoking nettles puffing gently into the late morning air. I swear they smoke more if you don’t look at them directly.

The Navigation is part man-made canal and part river; the lock gates are ancient and heavy, the locks are deep and the water flow when filling is jaw-droppingly powerful - and the 1653 heritage plaques made me stop and think.

After Coxes Lock it’s very much like pootling gently down a country stream wth ancient oaks lining the towpath on one side and lilypads crowding the water’s edges. Ratty, Toad, Badger and Mole would fit in very well here although the wildlife was actually pretty scarce - an unexpected cormorant, some coots and ducks by the millpond at Coxes Lock and one family of swans. Maybe the rest are stuck on the other side of the fallen trees.

To interrupt this pastoral idyll, let me introduce the M25 that roars overhead and below it, the official toilet-emptying station - a perfect match, you could say.

Sand, sand and rain…I’d not realised how sandy this part of the country is and as everyone who’s ever set foot on a sandy beach knows, sand gets everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. The towpath is basically one long sandy way, albeit slightly less sandy now as so much of it made its way inside the boat, trapped in the mooring lines, on the roof, in the cratch…

Hopefully the trees will be cleared soon and we can continue right to the end of the River Wey Navigation - I am keen to see what other wildlife there is on it, keen to see if the sand runs out at any point, and above all keen to see family that are so close and still so far.

This week’s pub recommendation is from the river Thames (not enough time for proper research yet on the Wey!) - the Red Lion on the river at Shepperton was a gem of a find. They have private moorings, excellent service, extremely fine food (there’s a great chef with a deft but light touch in the kitchen) and the best house wine I’ve had in a long time. www.redlionshepperton.com

Take care everyone, and stay dry!

Phil xx

my 'itinerant photographer' website is launched!

As an itinerant photographer (or simply someone working on yachts overseas with a camera ever to hand), there never seemed to be the time to stay still, take stock and, for example, build a website to showcase my work. Around this time last year, when my husband and I realised what everyone does sooner or later, namely that life’s too short to live to someone else’s demands, we bought a narrowboat, moved back to England and started travelling on our own terms.

When the towpaths muddied over and ice started creeping into the puddles, we came back to our house in south Somerset to tidy it up, pack it up, and sell up. Before part 3 of this master plan was complete, the world and England’s canals had closed down.

I’m by nature an irrepressibly optimistic person and can’t help but find good in amongst the bad. So one result of my enforced lockdown and isolation is this website, the building of which has fried my brain in the most pleasurable way. My solitary walks along the ancient footpaths and rarely-visited woodlands on my doorstep let me experience my first British spring in decades - who knew it could be so green and lush and inspiring? Many of the intimate flora photographs on the website were taken on these walks.

You’ll get to know more about me, my photography, where I’ve been and where I’m going, in other blog posts - in the meantime, thanks for your time, I hope you like the photos and the stories, and I hope you’re staying safe

Phil xx

ps

I’m female and Philippa, but most people except my husband call me Phil