Left Oxford Holiday Inn Express, and pedalled off into a headwind. The ten previous days must have taken their toll, because I had a bit of a wobble and arrived, snivelling, in the layby where Frank was waiting for me. After a restorative danish pastry, and some coffee, it was business as usual. The problem was that a man had told me that Henley was 8 miles away, up a big hill, then it turned out it was 17 miles away, so I was dreading the distance - and the hill (the distance was correct, but the hill was quite small, in the end)
Henley, when it came, was gorgeous. Lovely buildings, and fabulous descent down an avenue of trees that were just turning colour. Led a convoy of cars over the Thames, and then followed the river downstream through the countryside, which was much the same as it appeared to be on my 1962 map, borrowed from the Bloomers. The bucket was regularly replenished, and weighs quite a lot now. We abandoned the rickshaw in a garden, about 5 miles from Windsor, took the dog to her minder for the next 2 days, in Marlow, and then drove to Tim and Robin's lovely house, for supper and bed (Tabs and Blake very disappointed not to actually see the rickshaw, but looking forward to counting what's in the bucket!). Tomorrow is the last day, barring unforeseen circumstances, and I will have mixed emotions as I say goodbye to my trusty steed as Nelson takes over ownership and puts it to work in Covent Garden. It has served me well, so I hope, having written this, that I don't get 2 punctures and steer it into the Thames tomorrow.