Family time

Friday 17th August; Aristotle Bridge, Oxford

The Aristotle Bridge mooring is an excellent place to stop if you don’t want to go right down to the end of the canal.  There is virtually no noise from the trains, and a lovely little park.  We’ll have to remember table-tennis kit next time we are down this way.

I walked over the bridge to the little deli first thing, to get something for lunch – we are expecting my sister and brother-in-law today.  The shop is hilariously middle-class.  Jericho is becoming gentrified so it has a ready market.  It stocks organic veg, wholefoods and artisan food items.  It sells papers too – only broadsheets, mind, no riff-raff tabloids here. 

          

  

All it needed was a hipster beard or two posing around the place, but there were none to be seen!

As guests were expected, I felt I ought to do a bit of cleaning inside the boat.  Dave however hauled the spare cassettes out of their locker and started clearing out the loose rust and bits of rubbish that had accumulated.  Philly and Richard arrived on time, having walked from Wolvercote village where they had left their car.  After a restorative cup of tea we took our picnics and strolled through the park, over the railway and through Port Meadow to the river where we crossed at Rainbow Bridge and walked upstream past the Perch to find a picnic spot.

We had a lovely time.  There was plenty to watch, what with the swans, and the cattle and horses on the meadow.

 

Runners passed on both sides of the river, with lots of walkers, dogs and cyclists too.

Lagging behind the herd was this mare with her foal.  Perhaps the youngster was busy feeding when the rest moved off.

There was boat interest too, of course – this cruiser was aground for quite a while, presumably refusing the offers of help which must have come from the boaters going by.  Eventually he managed to push his boat free.

A narrowboat ran aground too, just downstream from our spot – it was the one which had been moored in front of us at Thrupp.  As we were walking back across Port Meadow we could see they had freed themselves.  After tea and cake our guests left.  To round off a lovely day we walked down to the Old Bookbinders later on for an excellent meal.  Very French, apart from the real ale.