Tarquin (R) & Captain Colin

Early start after a late night blogging, a couple of decent size sloe gins and two of us squashed together in a single width bed, fighting for space most of the night – for some reason Henny feels the need to be stuck to me like glue all night. She’s a 30kg Dog so no light weight.

Penny conjured up boiled eggs & toast, another cup of EG, not PG! And I had my requisite dose of vitamins, fish oils and turmeric washed down with my green juice that Captain Colin calls pond water and the daily probiotic yoghurt – it’s how I roll!

The day before had been a stand up wash, today had to be a shower – I needed to feel clean to start today. My bathroom (en-suite), or “the poop deck” as I call it, is tiny, the floor space about big enough for two size 9 1/2’s – my feet are 10’s so there starts the difficulties. Really you couldn’t swing a mouse around by its tail let alone a cat! You have to remove your loo paper to shower or it will get wet, and showering would be easier if you were either a contortionist or at the very least ambidextrous.

James, a trusty barman from the Dog & Partridge arrived with Tarquin (real name Gerald), a customer of ours who I’ve known some 8 or 10 years, and Tarquin had very kindly offered to walk with me for the day, for what was scheduled to be a 13mile walk – problem no. 1 …. it was a 15 miler, a bit of a calculation balls up on my part! We headed off in horrid drizzly weather that eventually let up for a couple of hours then came back with a vengeance for most of the rest of the day – suffice to say we got soaked. James joined us for the first part, which turned out to be a relief!

It’s funny running a pub and seeing some people most days of the week, but never really knowing anything about them – Tarquin and I have always exchanged pleasantries, but never spent any time together. This made walking and talking easy, we found out loads about each other, past & present and had a thoroughly good chat for more than half the day.

The day didn’t get off to a great start though, we saw Captain Colin and Penny the Purser at the first Lock, and the lock keeper was no where to be found. Between James, Tarquin and me we had to operate the lock, for which the electrical mechanism was out of action so it had to be a hand-job, turning the wheel frantically to open and close the sluice gates and doors at each end of the lock. There’s a certain order on which to do this and a method that we three novices had to work out with Capt. Colin shouting instructions from afar. Just 15 minutes into our walk and it was already an upper body work out that I hadn’t planned to start the day with, James however, took the brunt of it – good man!

Approaching Shiplake College – Tarquin striding ahead

We walked and talked up to Shiplake College where we soon saw the Captain & the Purser coming up stream, they kindly stopped and made a much needed cuppa. Capt. Colin was telling us one of his canal-faring stories and happened to mention something about being the proud owner of a pair of ‘bowel thrusters’ – I think I’d heard him use them earlier that morning in the vicinity of the poop-deck! Turns out they were Bow Thrusters, something to do with the bow of the boat, but I cant tell you more than that, when it comes to boating terminology I’m clueless.

By now we were through Wargrave, and about parallel with Twyford, where we’d once opened a small shop when we owned Key Windows in and around 2005. We liked Twyford, but the shop, pretty as it was, was pretty much a disaster – one of my many not so clever business decisions in life. Still we’d enjoyed spending time after work at the Wellington (Welly) run by Bill & Karen Sutter – fabulous welcoming landlords that I’m sure I learnt something from when we went on to run pubs of our own.

We got to Sonning, arriving on the bridge at the New Mill Theatre, I’d crossed this bridge many times over the years by car. We crossed to the Coppa Club at the Great House Hotel, in need of refreshment and a break from the drizzle. On first inspection it looked highly unlikely that we’d be able to take Henny in, its plush and lush and quite simply ‘up market’ though, in a relaxed way, as I was about to find out.

Well, on opening the door I could immediately see other dogs, the guy in a smart suit was most accommodating and welcoming, and directed me towards a table laden with dog biscuits, water bowls and… dog blankets! “Help yourself” he said. We will be revisiting here in future.

Henny loved The Coppa Club in Sonning

Glass Domes in the Garden at The Coppa Club!

After a beer we headed for Reading, in the rain. I know it well since we would shop here many times over the years, Bank here all our married life and I briefly worked from here towards the end of my life in double glazing, and in football terms I’m a Reading fan, a Season Ticket holder for some 20 years, though no longer. I liked it best when Reading played at Elm Park, all “rusting tin” opposed to the “shiny plastic” of the new Mad Stad. I recall one night there in particular, it was the day my Dad died, 21 years ago.. I’d spent the day with my step-mum Shirley, and traveled back in the evening – Reading were playing Man City at home (yes they were once in the lower leagues, like us). It didn’t seem right to go to the match, yet I didn’t much feel like going home, I just wanted time with my own thoughts, and perhaps a little diversion so, rightly or wrongly I went to the game, stood on the Tilehurst Road terrace behind the goal, and didn’t have to talk to anyone. It’s hard to know what to do when someone dies, you feel a bit lost and preoccupied with trying to do the right thing. I don’t think there’s a right way to handle these occasions in life, just so long as you’re not disrespectful, and I don’t think I was.

Tania, the kids and I had always crossed the bridge at Caversham on our way to visit my mum for almost 30 years, over the bridge, up over Caversham Heights, headng down the A4074 towards Wallingford, Benson and Stadhampton where she lived and I’d lived some of the time as a youngster – I was to walk this route over the next two days, but on the River instead of taking the A4074.

Reading accounts for quite a long and reasonably dull part of the Thames Path, although the Kings Meadow is quite nice. At Caversham Bridge we diverted in search of sandwiches and had to pass a pub – yes pass a pub! But everything in moderation is best – so they say…

The Moderation-Reading

As we left Reading the path takes you past the fields where the annual Reading Festival is held and I recalled the 5 days I spent here many years ago on the litter picking crew.

Tania and I had a small aluminium recycling business – a can sorting and crushing machine supplied by British Alcan. We got a pitch at the Reading Festival, it was the year New Order were headlining, so yes a long time back, early 1990’s. I parked my caravan in with the litter pickers and set to work. The deal was that no alcoholic drinks were allowed in, so I found the entrances, where ticket holders were shaken down, to be the best place to collect cans – not only empty, but full ones too that had to be discarded before entry.

In the evenings the litter crew, mainly hippies (and I like hippies, my sister is one of the last of them), in old Mercedes 404’s with built in wood burning stoves, would club together around the camp fire and share. Someone was making a veggie curry or a veggie broth that they’d share with me and I would share round the bounty that was those discarded tins of beer picked up at the entrances. Some of them would be contributing by passing round a joint – not really my thing, but I probably took a toke or two so as not to offend any one! That was a great week, and as we finished and my new age hippie friends headed off the next festival at Leeds Castle, Milton Keynes or wherever the festival circuit took them, I wondered had I not been married with children, if I would have hitched my caravan and followed them – how would that story have ended, who knows!

We continued on towards Pangbourne, following an unfamiliar section of the river to me, with our heads bowed attempting to keep the rain off our faces as much as possible and watching our feet on the rough terrain made slippery by the rain – it was fairly grim, my feet were desperately sore, and Tarquin and I were by now walking at our own pace – different paces, and not spending too much time together for this stretch. Henny didnt seem to mind too much, I could tell she was tired, and of course she was soaking wet. I did my best to keep her fed, she ate most of my cheese sandwich and shared a Twix, as well as having eaten her own food. Chocolate and dogs… you may wonder, but Gay Gottleib, who’d bred our two Vizsla’s Charlie & Georgie told us she’d never hesitated to share a Mars Bar or two around her dogs when working a long a day in the field, the energy is good for them in small quantities, and there’s not much cocoa in the likes of a Twix.

Henny’s ‘Fit-Bitch’ shows an amazing 25.4 mile day for her & 4057 Calories burned!

After Reading the path follows the busy railway line banked high up to your left, not a pretty stretch at all and at Purley the Path leaves the river and takes you up and over a large mainline railway bridge, which must have been like 4 or 5 flights of stairs, and onward for some distance up and down hill through a housing development – it’s got to be among the least interesting and least fun stretches of the Thames Path. Somehow, we missed the late George Michael’s house , apparently it’s a bit of a stunner, and went on in to Pangbourne. (I know now…. it’s actually in Goring)!

What a relief to get here, 15 miles and 8 hours after leaving Henley. It was a slow day and a tough day. Captain Colin phoned me to say they’d had to go on to Goring to park up (“Moor Up” said Capt. Colin), I wasn’t in the mood for a joke “don’t piss me around” I said (how rude), but, thankfully he was just kidding – we wouldn’t have made it that day!

George Michael’s house, Goring on Thames… NOT Pangbourne!

Getting back to the boat was a relief, Captain Colin had secured a prime parking space directly outside The Swan at Pangbourne, this pub is in a lovely location with a nice terrace overlooking the river, and thankfully it had stopped raining by now. Unfortunately, we could only have beers at The Swan, the kitchen was being refurbished and was closed.

Just three days in and I had got a great feeling of support from friends, colleagues and family for this journey and I was both surprised and delighted to see our old friend and work colleague, Jackie Wilkins, on board the boat with Capt. Colin & Penny the Purser when we arrived. Tarquin’s wife joined us too, so we finished the day sat on deck having a beer before heading out for more refreshments and a decent meal at The Elephant in Pangbourne, before seeing Jackie off on the train back to Reading & Wokingham where she’d left her car.

Tomorrow is another day and I hope my feet will feel better – they are sore, these boot are really killing me, and my Achilles has blown up a good bit.

Another shot of Sloe Gin, a slug of Night Nurse and bed, thanks for reading.

Penny the Purser – and one knackered Henny!