Time to leave Captain Colin & Penny the Purser after four fabulous nights, being a cheapskate I only rented our boat for a week and they now have three days to get it back to Datchet. Although we’ve known each other for years it’s not until you live in close quarters for a period of time that you really get to know someone. My time with these two most fabulous people has been nothing but a joy, and I have been looked after so much that I am almost embarrassed- but everything they have done has made my trip much more achievable than it would have been without them. I can never thank them enough for their support for me and for our charity Cancer Research UK.

The day started as usual, except that it was the coldest night we’d had and there was a frost on the boat – the deck was slippery when I took Henny out for a wee & a poop. I wrestled with myself in the ‘thunder box’, the two foot en-suite bathroom and did the usual tablets and green juice followed by bacon rolls by Capt Colin, a cup of EG (not PG), coffee and cigarettes. It took a while to get the central heating working on the boat – we had another boat parked (“moored” said Captain Colin for the umpteenth time), next to us and it’s not good etiquette among the boating community to start your engines too early to get your heating up and running. If only regular neighbours could be so courteous.

I attended to the state of my feet, covering blisters and taping my big toe nails to my toes – they’re going black and look like they might want to come off, and donned my new comfy boots that Tania bought me yesterday – new boots it’s a risk, I know but they had to be better than the others! I don’t know what I’m complaining about, you should see the blisters on Captain Colin’s hands – it’s all he goes on about since he’s been wrestling with a steering wheel instead of the tiller on his beloved narrow boat – his only boat of choice. If you see him ask him about his blisters!

After fond goodbyes (I don’t like long ones) I set off with Henny towards Benson. A couple of miles in and we were there. I worked here as a 17 / 18 year old. My first bar job was just up the road at The Chequers, a very pretty little Brakspears pub in Berwick Salome, soon after I took a table waiting job at The Chicken In The Basket in Benson – it’s a housing estate now. Both were run by friends of my Mum & Stepdad, Ruby & Reg Buttefant had the Chequers and Tony Binks owned the C in the B – he was a dead ringer for David Niven. The Chicken was a club venue that hosted cabaret that featured the likes of Vince Hill (Miracles) and The Wurzels and others of that type from the era.

The Chicken in the Basket is no more.

On from there through Benson Boatyard where Tania and once rented a boat for a day that we spent on the river with our children, my stepmum, Shirley, her sister Val & husband Bob from the States – that’s about as much boating as I should do, I can’t do what Captain Colin does.

Next stop Shillingford Bridge, Mum would bring us here regularly as kids, it has a great outdoor pool overlooking the river, and it was still there. Mum only lived up the road in Stadhampton, a beautiful 17th century farmhouse set in 60 acres of farmland – we loved it here as kids, spending time between Mums & Dads homes, but it didn’t get better than this.

Onwards, via an uncomfortable stretch on the main road for 1/2 a mile or so, and we’re heading for Dorchester, Dad & Shirley had their wedding reception here at the White Hart after Mum & Dads divorce. I didn’t want to stop here, it was a strange affair back around 1968 where they headed off to marry in Abingdon, without us kids, and then we got picked up to go to the reception in Dorchester. I don’t remember how I felt at that age, but I know it wasn’t a joyous occasion for a 6 year old.

You can just make out Dorchester Abbey in the distance.

To my left was Wittenham Clumps, another place Mum would take us regularly as kids with the dog, George our black Labrador for walks and picnics. Wittenham Clumps was to stay with me for some hours yet as the river seems to wind this way and that way but never letting the Clumps out of sight.

Wittenham Clumps is one of the few lumps on this flat region of the Thames Valley, the other is not so pretty!

Just around the bend and I get my first glimpse today of Didcot Power Station. I could see this from Mums garden since the 60’s and can see it every time I head in to work today- it’s a blot, but a familiar blot on my landscape that has always been in my life’s view. It didn’t go out of sight until I’d almost reached Abingdon.

On I went with Henny ambling across the meadows enjoying the warmth of the sunshine that had quickly followed this mornings chilly start, heading for Clifton Hampden. We’d lived here as kids in the mid 60’s with Mum & Dad, then with Mum & Shirley (my stepmum) after their divorce. There were happy times here, but it was not a time that was filled happiness for me, as Mum & Dad would fight like cat and dog all too often and frightening the life out of their kids with their rowing. So on I went with mixed thoughts about my next destination.

I met few people on this stage of my walk, just the odd walker going the other way. Another figure loomed up in the distance, a she, I could tell as she came close, and she had a dog with her a Jack Russell terrier… surely not, it was …. it was my sister! Gobsmacked, she lives in Devon! I couldn’t run, if I could it might have looked like an incestuous remake of ’10’ with Bo Derek & Dudley Moore, but we embraced all the same – enough details for you! …. OK yes I welled up and shed a tear.

She wanted to join me particularly for this section of the walk – she knew it was a trip down memory lane and not an always fond-memory lane. Bless her, she got it just right. She’s an amazing sister and true friend.

We passed the big Manor House, the once grand home of Lord & Lady Gibbs, we’d go there with Mum & Dad when they were invited to the annual or bi-annual garden parties- she was Mrs Clifton Hampden after all. My sister told me that someone had mentioned to her when walking up to meet me that it was now Kate Bush’s home – oddly it looked a bit “Wuthering Height’ish”, but also a little dilapidated.

Wuthering Heights – perhaps someone needs to trim Kate’s Bush!

Lunch at the Barley Mow in Clifton Hampden – Sis was paying, Great! It’s a lovely pub by the river we’ll known to us over the years – I’d had many a packet of crisps and a cola in the car here as a youngster and many a beer later in life.

My amazing Sis

After lunch we walked up to the cottage where we’d lived as youngsters (the not so happy Cottage), I was pleased to do this with my sister, past the pretty church where she’d sung in the choir and we’d attended Sunday School, and past the Post Office where I’d once been bitten by a dog as a 5 or 6 year old.

We walked a while longer together then said our temporary goodbyes (we were to meet later) as she was off to visit more memory lanes and Mums grave.

I headed off in the direction of Abingdon with about 5 miles left to go. Good time to walk alone, talk with Henny and reflect.

This stretch is a boring part of the river, up through Culham Cut, the imposing Culham Laboratory on my right and still that damned power station at Didcot on my left – it was as if I hadn’t walked any distance at all!

Soon the path heads in to some lovely meadows where Henny could run free. As we neared Abingdon my feet were getting quite uncomfortable, but still so much better than they would have in yesterday’s boots.

Arriving in Abingdon I remembered schooling at Our Lady’s Convent (Scary Nuns and the worst school dinners ever – and they’d make you eat it all!), swimming at the Old Gaol a former prison turned sports / swimming complex (it still had the bars on the windows and still does) and is now housing / flats, and I remembered summer days at the out door pool by the bridge opposite the Nags Head.

Abingdon was a relief for my feet, the Nags Head loomed and another pint was in order before my sister arrived to take me home to Tania and Georgie for a good nights sleep a great meal and a much needed hot bath.

Tomorrow, day 6, 35 miles to go – I can’t say I’m looking forward to it, my feet are now ragged and blistered so tomorrow will start with lots of wrapping, padding and taping – in all the right places I hope!

Captain Colin and Penny the Purser called, they’d made good time and we’re back in Henley safely after 20 miles and 8 locks not bad in one day – especially if you’ve got the worst blistered hands ever!