I had a decent breakfast at the Ferryman and headed off onto the path. I’d planned a shorter day walking to Eynsham. Again, there was supposed to be rain around noon, so I had an alternative plan involving a bus. I walked down the road until I saw the sign for the Thames Path. At this point, the path veered away from the Thames. It looked like more walking in fields was in store.
There were sheep. Many sheep. Most looked freshly sheared. They didn’t much like me walking through their field and they baa-ed at me and sullenly let me pass. The “path” was basically a semi-mowed line in the field. The grass was wet and squishy. And there was plenty of sheep shit which I was not able to avoid completely.
When I wasn’t dodging sheep-shit, I admired the wild flowers and the river. The sun glinted on the water and it really was beautiful.
Finally the Thames appeared once again and the path became more of…well…a PATH. I was approaching Pinkham Lock. Like the other locks, it was beautifully kept. I sat on a bench and watched several boats go through, including a bunch of canoes! The sun was out and it felt good to put my feet up.
I continued on to the road crossing and, as predicted, the sky was darkening. Plus, I was tired of walking. I walked down the road to the bus stop and took the bus into Eynsham.
My inn, the White Hart, was just down the road. I love the little alleyways and lanes in England. Unlike what might be the case in the states, the lanes have character. And everyone’s backyard (or back garden) was full of flowers.
I found The White Hart, but it wasn’t open yet. The back gate was open and I met Tracey, the owner. She couldn’t have been nicer, despite my extreme early arrival. She brought me tea on a tray and said my room was almost ready. And when I asked her where I could find a laundry, she offered to wash my clothes for me! She even gave me a rack to dry them on!
I had a little rest and then took a walk around the village. Had a couple of pints at a local pub, sat outside and did a bit of knitting. Grabbed some excellent Indian food for dinner. Finished a pretty terrible romance novel. 🙄
Tomorrow I’ll take the bus to Oxford. I’m kinda done with walking for now.
Today I would do most of my walking through “Chimney Meadows” a beautiful nature reserve full of birds and flowers. Jo dropped me off right at the Path and I stepped off into the field. The weather was predicted to be partly cloudy until noon, when the rain would start in earnest. I had 6 miles to walk until I got to the pub in Newbridge – at my normal 2mph pace, I should just make it!
The path went right by the river and soon I came to the sign announcing the meadows. The walking was a bit easier than the previous day, with the path being more packed dirt and less grass. It was quite peaceful.
I saw quite a few of these short, squat stone buildings, some having slits for windows. I found out later that they were “pillboxes” constructed during WWII and used for fortifications. There are more than 1200 still in existence, scattered around England.
Now the path had turned back to grass. I was looking for a resting spot…and suddenly saw this cute little building up ahead. It was a mini-bird-blind, with benches and windows inside! I sat for a much needed break and had my snack and a drink.
I was making good time (for me) but the weather was getting damper and my shoes were already sopped. Up ahead, where the path continue along the winding river, the map showed a short cut across the field. Not heeding Frodo’s words (“Short cuts make long delays,”) I determined to avail myself of it.
I slogged across the field only to find….a barbed wire fence! Wait, there was a gate at the end. Nope, it was private property. But there was a climbing stile (not the one in the picture…similar but mine had a barbed wire fence over it!) I hoisted myself over but there was no path on the other side. I could SEE the blasted river up ahead. I bush-whacked my way through reeds and tall grass until I pushed my way out into another field and the actual path.
Now it had started to rain steadily… but I only had about half mile to go. Slog, slog, slog…I could hear a road up ahead! Squish, squish, squish…I could see a bridge and the pub! Stomp, stomp, stomp…I was at the Waybush – a warm and modern pub with ales and food!
I had a spectacular venison pie with mashed potatoes and fresh veggies on the side. I took off my wet shoes and socks, put on my sandals and called a taxi to take me to “The Ferryman.” I got charged an exorbitant rate because he was “coming from Oxford.” 🙄
The Ferryman is an old inn, which used to have an actual chain ferry across the Thames. The rooms have all been modernized. Mine was large and had a view over the river. The sun came out later in the afternoon and I sat outside and had a glass of Merlot and did some knitting. They served a decent dinner and there’s breakfast in the morning.
With the prospect of steady rain all day and the knowledge that the one possible stopping point on the way to Lechlade was closed, I decided to seek alternative transportation. I thought a taxi would be quickest, and I got a couple of recommendations from the coffee shop where I had breakfast (and a giant latte. 😁)
The “most reliable” taxi service didn’t pick up the phone or answer their text. The other two had “no taxis available.” Uber was a bust. So I determined to take the bus…which was cheap, but involved a rather circuitous route.
However, it was comfortable, on time and I got to see some of the countryside. When I got to Lechlade, my hotel “The Swan” was right around the corner from the bus stop.
The rooms were up a flight of ancient stairs. All the rooms had names. Mine was called “The Fox” and had the tiniest shower stall I’d ever seen…but the water was hot and the spray was sufficient. The beds were comfortable with plenty of pillows and there were extra outlets for charging devices.
I had dinner at a local Indian place and then walked around for a bit. The rain had let up and the sun was peeking through, which boded well for my walk tomorrow.
I ended up at a local pub called “The Crown” and got myself a wee dram of excellent Scotch, a peaty single-malt called “Laphroaig.” Some locals at the bar were in a deep philosophical discussion, but they greeted me, welcomed me to England and one of them bought me another drink!
The next morning was cool and sunny and who should I bump into at breakfast but Ester, from a couple of days ago!
She was taking a taxi to Radcott Bridge so she didn’t have a ridiculously long day! Meanwhile, I was on my way there as well, but walking, with the ultimate goal of Tadpole Bridge, where I had a room booked. This was to be a 10+ mile day and I was a bit dubious. The walk started off through a lovely old churchyard.
Once more the “path” was mostly grass, which made walking difficult. You couldn’t really stride along like you could on packed dirt. I could feel my legs starting to ache.
There were a couple of locks along the way and many boats and moorings. The locks were beautifully kept with flowers and plantings. I didn’t get to see any boats go through, though!
At one point, the path ran alongside an electric fence for quite a ways. I could see the gate at the end with the Thames Path logo on it…but when I got there, I discovered I was on the WRONG side of the electric fence! This was not good. I didn’t relish walking all the way back to the beginning. I touched the fence gingerly – there was a small buzz going through. Maybe there was a low enough spot where I could sort of…jump over? Maybe I could squeeze through where the gate joined?
I had a close look at the pole by the gate and there it was…an “off” switch. I turned it and there was no more buzz. I found a low spot and rather ignominiously hurled myself over to the “right” side. Then I turned the fence back on. Go, me.
By now, my legs were really hurting. I needed a bench or a stump or something to plunk my tired self on. Again, unlike the Camino, there are very few built-in resting spots along the way. Finally I came to someone’s (probably private) mooring spot. There was no one around, but there was a table and chairs and I gratefully took advantage. I took off my shoes and put my feet up. The path had widened out into something more like a dirt road.
My planned stop, the Olde Swan Hotel, was only about a mile ahead. (Lots of hotels named for Swans, apparently.) I was feeling pretty pooped by then. I thought I’d see if it was possible to get a ride to my BnB after I ate. Seems like my limit with a pack is about 7 – 8 miles. Good to know!
I ordered myself a pint of cask ale and a “Ploughman’s” lunch. (Which was amazing!) It was a very pleasant pub and I was able to book a taxi to arrive in a couple of hours…time up enjoy my lunch and relax.
But, when I told Jo, the owner of my BnB, about my plans, she offered to come get me! She showed up about an hour later along with her daughter. We drove through the little village of Brampton, which is where they shot many scenes from “Downton Abbey.” And now I’m ensconced in an idyllic farmhouse with doves and other birds singing, chickens being all chicken-y and a cuppa tea.
Tomorrow, Jo said she’d bring me down to the Tadpole Bridge where the Thames Path meets Buckland Road. I’ll walk as far as Newbridge, where there are several pubs. That’ll be a little more than 6 miles. If I feel up to it, I’ll continue to Bablock Hythe, where I’ve got a room booked at The Ferryman. If I’m totally wiped, I’ll finagle a ride…or take a bus. And after that, my last two days are about 6 miles each. Slow and steady.
I got a ride to the intersection of the Path with the road and surveyed the way. The beginning was basically a small mowed section though a field. It was marked at the beginning and enough people had tramped down the grass to make it obvious. So off I went!
There were more wildflowers and the weather, again, was cloudy and a bit humid. But no rain and a nice breeze.
The river was still underground, although I saw several places where it might have been flowing in wetter conditions. I sat on a bench commentating the Queen.
Finally, just as the path started into a more wooded area, I saw some flowing water in the green river bed. The Thames had appeared!
Now the walk continued through somewhat muddy conditions and bumpy fields. It really was more of a slog than a pleasant stroll. I was happy that the way was pretty much flat and that I’d planned a journey of only about 7 miles.
I walked through and around various farms, with the requisite livestock. None of them paid me any mind, except one sheep, who stared at me curiously.
Unlike the Camino, this walk did not pass through various tiny hamlets and there were no convenient food stands on the way. I had not brought any extra snacks and was regretting it. I caught up with a woman about my age who had passed me several times and was taking a break near a pond. Her name was Ester and she was from Holland…also walking to Oxford. She was kind enough to give me an energy bar and I was grateful to get it! I found a bench to sit on to catch my breath. Now the river was wider.
A bit further on, as I was walking directly next to the river, I passed a measuring stick showing how high it gets at times!
Finally I crossed a main road and could see the buildings of Ashton Keynes ahead! And there was my Inn, “The Longhouse” right in front of me!
The house was built in the mid-1600s and although since modernized, still has many of the original features. It’s a family home and I was the only outside guest this time. I was shown to my very cozy room and private bath and had a welcome cup of tea (and a hot shower!)
I made my way down to the town’s only pub and had a pint of ale (“Red Welsh Ale”) I read in the outside garden until the kitchen opened. A very nice meal, another pint and then back to my cozy room. Slept like a baby.
It’s been a while since I’ve traveled out of the country. I’d forgotten about the humorless TSA agents, the over-priced food at the airport, the narrow seats in coach, the re-heated airline meals and the inevitable wide-awake passengers who talk for the entire 6 hour journey.
However, I managed to sleep for a while and disembark without issue at London Heathrow. The entry and passport check has been completely streamlined and automated. I checked outside and saw that the morning was typical English rain and mist. The local weather said that I should expect this for most of my trip. But, since I’d be walking with a pack, I’ll take misty skies rather than broiling sun!
The newly opened Elizabeth line on the tube took me straight to Paddington and turns out I had enough stored on my old “Oyster” card to get me there. I treated myself to a traditional “full English breakfast” and a latte at a nearby cafe.
It was way too early to check into my hotel, so after charging my phone, I went up to the Decathlon on Kensington High Street to get myself a cheap walking stick and a water bottle. (I managed to lose the water bottle before I got back to my hotel, which must be some kind of record.) I then walked back through Kensington Gardens.
I sat for a bit by “Round Pond” where there are many birds…ducks, geese, swans, terns and of course, pigeons.
There were prominent signs advising you not to feed the birds. And there were many people feeding them. Including one man who was literally handing out full slices of bread from a bag.
Kensington Gardens are huge and beautiful. I walked along the “Princess Diana” memorial path and down to the Italian Gardens where I sat and had a glass of Rosé and a biscotti. I was thinking of walking down to the statue of Peter Pan (Barrie’s original book takes place in Kensington Gardens) but by then the jet lag was hitting me hard!
My hotel room at the Alexandra was tiny, but with an en-suite bathroom. Across the street was another hotel called “The Linden House.” Of course, I sent a picture to my granddaughter Linden!
After much-needed shower and a brief nap, I went in search of some decent food (and a pint, of course). Found the “Victoria Pub” right down the road and sat outside with a lovely cask ale. I was informed by a man next to me that this was one of the “last really good pubs around.” I took him at his word! The shepherd’s pie was excellent.
The weather was still misty, but pleasant enough to sit and enjoy another ale while people-watching. I had learned from walking the Camino that having something to read during down time was worth the extra weight and I’d brought my Kindle this time. Got about 3/4 of the way through a fun murder mystery when my eyes just couldn’t stay open. I headed back to my hotel and crashed. Tomorrow I’d head up to Kemble and “the source” – where the Thames begins!
A smaller pack this time. I’m off to England to walk part of the Thames Path. A flat, pleasant stroll of about 60 miles from the “source” to Oxford, where I will moot (no, that’s not a typo) with a couple dozen old friends from my Lord of the Rings days. Easier than the Camino and more creature comforts, as I’ll be staying in lovely BnBs along the way! But the weather looks to be typical English rain, mist and fog…so I’ve brought my hiking poncho! I fly to London tomorrow!
Santiago is a blend of very old and very new. My first stop was to be a tour of the Cathedral. I had intended to sign up for a tour of the interior and one of the towers. Turns out I had (apparently) just signed up for the tower tour. Which involved stairs. Many stairs. And, when we got to the top, we were expected to step out onto THIS:
Yes. Literally the roof. And while most people seemed not to have trouble navigating it, I was more than a little disconcerted.
I don’t mind heights, but the “slantiness” was quite vertigo-inducing. I did manage to get over to the next point and get some pictures. The guide seemed very knowledgeable but she only spoke in Spanish. There was an app that you could download that had the info in English, but I couldn’t read my phone and navigate the roof simultaneously.
When the guide started to lead us around to the other side, I told her I would wait back at the stairs. I literally crawled across to the door and then sat on the (flat) step. When the group came back around, I was informed by some man that “I was wearing the wrong shoes” (I had my Tevas on) and that was my problem. I disagreed, but he insisted. “Thank you, O Man, for Mansplaining to me,” I thought to myself. 🙄
We then climbed higher in the tower, where the surface was, thankfully, flat. Amazing views.
And close-ups of the bells!
And the very top of the tower.
This is a huge rachet. Apparently during Lent, they turn this instead of ringing the bells.
When I climbed back down, I saw this little “train” in the square. It was a tour-train that would take you on a circle tour of the city (with narration) for only €6. I hopped on.
Many sights and sounds of the city
The historic Burger King 😂
On Saturday, I took an all-day bus tour out to Finisterre and Muxia. Many Pilgrims continue their walk out to one of these places. Our guide was amazing, speaking in both Spanish and English and describing points of interest and history along the way.
Bridge from the 1400sFishing village of MurosFervenza do Ézaro
Finisterre – literally the “End of the Earth”
And Muxia. Much more wild and remote feeling than Finisterre and the site of the last scene from the movie “The Way.”
I never did get the tour of the inside of the Cathedral, but I managed a couple of pictures after the Mass on Thursday. I’ll just have to return!
Today, I slept in (a rare occurrence on this trip!). I took a bunch of things to be shipped ahead to my hotel in Madrid. I had lunch at a very upscale (and delicious) restaurant. And…I got my souvenir!
My Camino Shell. The guy was only doing black ink; I plan to add some color when I get back.
Tomorrow I am off to spend a couple of days in Barcelona. Enough cows and farms…I need some city vibes! I’m taking the train across Spain.
Today, at approximately 11:30am, I reached Santiago and stood in front of the Cathedral.
It was quite crowded on the road; everyone near the end of their journey. Some had walked from St. Jean (or further!) and some had started 100 kms away in Sarria. Some were practically running. Others were visibly limping. Some walked with dogged determination. Some walked slowly, as if they didn’t want it to end.
As I came around the corner towards the front of the Cathedral, I saw a woman in tears and stumbling, as she walked with her husbands arm around her. Every emotion seemed to be expressed.
There was a Pilgrim’s Mass at noon. I went and sat on the steps in the back; every seat was taken. The cathedral is beautiful (I’ve got a full tour booked tomorrow and will post more pictures.)
I was starving, so got a plate of paella and a beer. Then I went to the Pilgrim’s Office to get my certificate. It’s all in Latin. They look closely over your stamps, especially the last ones, to be sure you’ve walked at least 100 kilometers! By my best reckoning, I walked about 350.
Then, after a few wrong turns, I found my albergue. It’s called “Seminario Menor” and is in this very cool old Monastery. It’s also up on a hill. But I have a little private room (that likely used to be some monk’s cell.). Plain, but comfortable.
My heart is full. I expect I’ll be turning over my thoughts for some time. And writing some of them here! But for now, I’m feeling very grateful and very blessed.
…till Santiago. A pleasant walk today with a few climbs.
I had brought a rock with me on the Way. This is symbolic of your burdens and traditionally, pilgrims lay their rock at the base of the Cruz de Ferro – the iron cross in the Leon Mountains and the highest point on the Camino Frances.
However, I had skipped that part of the path …and so I laid my rock at the base of an older marker for entering Santiago. This was a special rock – a piece of squared-off quartz given to me by a first grader at my last school.
My last stop before Santiago is here in the town of Lavacolla. The name Lavacolla has one of the most debated origins of all the Camino towns. The most mundane theory is that it means “field at the bottom of the hill.” But some say it actually means “scrub your scrotum.” 😁
However, it is widely accepted that pilgrims stopped to bathe and wash their clothes in the stream here before finally entering the city.
For myself, I did not wash at the stream, but in the more modern shower in my pensión! Tomorrow, if all goes well, I will walk into Santiago at last!
Via Con Brio! 