Reeking of Money in Henley

Leg two of our autumn trip, and over the last couple of nights I've been dithering about our next site.  I have my doubts but in the end for once in our touring lives we stick to plan A

Wednesday 17 October

They are obviously expecting a lot of arrivals today, early arrivals too by the stressed look on the warden's face as she paced the site trying to tick off those due to leave this morning.  I'm rushing for no one, especially those that take the piss and arrive hours before they should do.

By 10.15am though, we've broken camp, taken the dogs for a walk and are hitched up and ready to hit the road.

The dogs are pouting, as they think it's holiday over when we join the traffic on the M40 and head south down into the shires.  Traffic is heavy with a lot of HGVs on the road and we pass in silence the spot of the fatality this week when a car towing a caravan made it's way down lane 3 against the flow of traffic on the M40.

At 12.05pm we've negotiated Marlow town centre and are pulling in through the gate of the Caravan Club's Henley Four Oaks site.  Site arrival time here is noon, and we think we've timed it perfectly until we do the site circuit and see at least 7 units setting up, looking like they've been doing so for at least half an hour too!  Gits.

We take the last available awning pitch with backs directly onto the A4155.  We can't see it, but we can certainly hear it. No point moaning about something you can't change though, so set about setting up camp for the next 4 nights.

Herself had been busy while I'd been banging in the pegs, and just as I smashed my knuckles for the last time I am am presented with a plate of bacon and egg butties.

We need some shopping though, so with no time to sit down we track down a Tesco in Henley.  We're also on the lookout for some open space to exercise the dogs, there is an onsite dog walk but it's nothing more than a scamper for early morning and late evening business.

Herself spots a sign for a picnic area, so we follow it for a bit of an explore.  Bingo!!  A lovely riverside grassed area presents itself where we walk, take in the atmos and throw a ball for Tali, which in turn sort of ruins the atmos for everyone else out for a peaceful late afternoon stroll along the Thames.

Back on site we sit out in the chair for a while blowing the froth off a few cold ones until the midges come out to play and we retreat indoors for a tea of potch, sausages and onion gravy.

Thursday 18 October

Herself didn't have a restful night.  Once the road calmed down the noise from jets approaching Heathrow took over.  Me?  I took my hearing aids out and didn't hear a thing until I put them back in this morning.

After walking the dogs we breakfast on bacon muffins before heading out for the day. Vera's nose gets pointed through the lanes until we reach the village of Turville, better know as Dibley in the TV programme Vicar of Dibley.

It didn't take us long to look around, and we're back on the M40 heading north to the university city of Oxford.  We find somewhere to park up reasonably easy, and upon approaching the Turpin machine we see why ........ £5 for 2 hours.

Academics scurry about the place clutching piles of books trying to look frightfully important and push bikes fly about the place in silence.  This is strange for a city centre.  It is eerily quiet due to lack of traffic, or is there more to it?

We amble around soaking up the atmos, walking through some of the courtyards, and peering through the gates into others that are charging a visitor fee. There is no way I'm paying to look at grass, even if it does belong to Trinity or Sy Johns College.  We take an outside table at the Kings Arms set in the middle of many of the famous colleges.  Their own website proclaims.......

The famous Kings Arms is the oldest pub in Oxford built in 1607 and still standing in its original position. We're quite possibly also the brainiest pub in Oxford too, known for having the highest IQ per square foot of anywhere in the world! Loved by Oxford scholars and tourists alike and renown for fine cask ales, hearty homemade food and our resident ghost. Ali and the team look forward to making you at home.

The only thing I can tell you is that the barman was thick as pig shit and two pints, a bag of crisps and a bag of Biltong cost an awful lot more than they should have.  To add insult to injury, while my back was turned, Herself managed to feed the whole bag on MY Biltong to Tali.  I look up from my phone and he's smacking his chops while giving me the "so what" look.

I've never seen so may push bikes in one place, thousands of them there are, and we lost count of the near misses as we sat people watching.  It starts to make you feel quite dizzy after a time.  Herself isn't happy here, she won't admit it, but I know she isn't.  We head back to Vera and had words.  Well actually I sounded off, Then as luck would have it the batteries on my hearing aids ran out just as Herself was getting her retort in.  I didn't let on.  In actual fact, I didn't let on until we were pulling through the site gates and I dashed into the van to retrieve a spare set.

We park up in Henley and go for a walk along the river.  I'm pretty sure we came across a minor Royal or something, well this old lady out walking her dog was certainly dressed for the part.

We walk as far as The Angel on the Bridge and take a seat on their riverside terrace to enjoy a pint and a sandwich.

River traffic is light.  Just one or two river cruisers plying their trade and coxless pairs, coxed fours doing their bit with their coach hounding them from the comfort of a speed boat alongside!

We return to site and enjoy a few hours outside in the chairs before it gets too cold and we retreat inside for the evening.

Friday 19 October

It got cold over night, very cold, and Herself was making a bit of an issue about it during a nocturnal excursion.  I told her to woman up, which went down well, before discretely turning on the heating at 4.30am myself.

Windsor is prodded into TomTom and we find a spot to park a lot easier than I was expecting.  For £9 we pay Turpin enough to leave Vera under a sign warning of increased thefts from vehicles in the car park, and head on up the hill past all the tat shops.  Interestingly they are still trying to sell off Harry and Meghan crap, but nothing from the other Royal wedding that took place here last week.

If it wasn't for the security seals still on the manholes you'd never know there'd been an event just a few days back.  May be no one was interested?

Herself's knee is screaming at her, so we take a table outside The King and Castle.  I thought nothing of it until I went to use the bog before getting drinks and followed the signs up 3 flights of stairs to a far flung remote part of the building.  A glance at the menu confirmed it just as the manager says "You can't sit there with the dogs."  Yes it was a Weatherspoons, who have recently taken the step of banning dogs from both inside and outside their pubs.  This to me is a very strange stance to take considering the scumbags that they allow to frequent these places.

We move on, trying the ignore the dozens of homeless people dossing down on the pavements, and herself spots some tables outside the Carpenters Arms.

We enjoy a pint with a view of the turrets up the alley next to possibly the wonkiest building I've ever seen.

From here we make or way to the castle.  I've no intention whatsoever of paying an entrance fee and amble over towards the exit on Castle Hill, past the women in ER capes until the guys with guns get twitchy.  I turn around.

Herself gets talking to one of the capes who is kind enough to give s directions to The Great Walk, throwing in that there was also a lovely dog friendly pub by the gates.  This place reeks of money, and to be honest we find it a little obscene in such proximity to so many homeless.

The only other people holding onto leaded dogs appear to be butlers.  My initial observation is that The Great Walk is bloody long and bloody straight.

We grab an outside table at the Two Brewers, a pub that dates back to the early 1700s as a starting point for the rolling stage coaches with fresh horses starting on the journey into London. Drinks and sandwiches are ordered, and as expected I pay a queens ransom at the bar.

Lunch was however very nice, and we get the feeling that dogs are very much a novelty around here as our eating and drinking is frequently interrupted as people stop to make a fuss.  We start to make tracks back, stopping again on Castle Hill to people watch, before taking a riverside table at Mamma Mia's for drinks and ice creams.

We use up all of our £9 worth watching the river traffic and swans fighting over bread before swinging Vera back out onto the highway and heading back to Henley.

We head straight to our usual spot, but do not head upstream this time, we follow the path down stream towards Marsh Lock admiring the riverside property and private launches on the other bank.

It's been a long day out and we're knackered so, via Tesco for stuff, we make tracks back to the van.  Won't be a late one tonight.

Saturday 20 October

It stayed quite warm in the van last night, mainly due to the fact that Herself was later than me diving into our pit, and inadvertently (that's her story and she's sticking to it) forgetting to switch the heating off.  When I get up for a pee at 4.30am Tali is panting for all he's worth, so the door gets flung open to get some rapid ventilation going.  The icy blast wakes Herself and I am now in a world of bother.

Up and at em this morning and with just a mug of tea and a biscuit for breakfast we're scrubbed up and in Vera by 9.30am heading towards High Wycombe and its Eden shopping mall.  Herself wants to pick up some things, and I've still not paid for my outburst in Oxford yet, so agree to go along.

We exit the lifts into a world of pain, shop after shop after bloody shop.  With folding thrown in the direction of GAP, Superdry and Lush, Herself declares that she's done, and suggests finding a pub for lunch.  You could have planted spuds in the trench I left in my wake as I waddled at top speed towards the lifts.

I missed the exit off the roundabout and we went on a not very scenic detour of Buckinghamshire towards London before being able to turn around and head back towards Henley.  Just in time the car park of Hurley House Hotel  comes into view.  The place looks cracking, and a sign declares they are dog friendly.  I've taken a look at their web pages in the week and think I've played a blinder here.

Their web pages wax lyrical ......... "Our menus feature only the freshest of locally-sourced ingredients from Berkshire’s best producers and farmers, while the fish and seafood are brought in directly from Brixham boats daily."

Herself dismisses the idea before I've had the chance to apply Vera's handbrake! A few  miles on and we're spraying chippings in the car park of The Black Boys Inn a little further down the A4130 towards Henley.

A garden table is taken and we enjoy Fish and Chips with a pint while looking over into the distance wondering who important (or just rich) the big white house belongs to.

The food was lovely, if expensive, and I get a clout for asking Herself if she thinks the fish had been raced up from Brixham this morning?

It was an idyllic setting, and the sun was very warm, but there's always something that takes the edge off, isn't there?  Today it's a yank or Canadian woman, not sure which, who decides now would be a good time to read OUT LOUD at top volume, a chapter of Harry Potter from her iphone to her boyfriend and his 9 year old son.  They looked enthralled, they really did, and if it was a first 'family' date and she was trying to befriend the kid, she was failing miserably.

Parking up in Henley we once again follow the Thames path towards London as I want to take a look at Marsh Lock.  We let the dogs run free though the fields before clipping them on their leads to join the path once more and over the foot bridge to the lock

We watch as a family of hoorays take their gin palace through the lock, and to be honest they were lapping up all the admiring glances.  This place reeks of money, it really does and it's a lifestyle I can but only dream of.

As we walk back to the car soaking up the warm October sunshine, it would be fair to say that we'll miss this place, we have thoroughly enjoyed our few days here, and it is on the list to revisit at some point.

Back on site it's time to break camp.  We'd always intended to leave today sometime, but paid until tomorrow so that we could go out for the day today and leave at our leisure, rather that be at the mercy of "Heir In Charge" in being allowed to stay the extra hours.

4.15pm and we've broken camp and are hitched up ready to go.  Towing through Henley on a Saturday afternoon was interesting, but after that the journey home was effortless.  Vera didn't miss a beat, and once on the M4 and in top gear, cruise control was set to 61mph, and there it stayed all the way to the Severn Bridge.

The crossing marked a bit of a moment for us, as it will probably be the last time we have to pass through the toll plaza after making the crossing.  As much as I despise having to hand over the dosh to enter my own country I will miss the adrenaline rush that comes as the barrier lifts and the race is on as 11 lanes merge into 3.

After just 3 1/2 hrs we are pulling up outside "Home-is-where-you-drag-it" Towers, back home after what will probably be our last trip on 2018.  It's been a blast.