Lunch at The Rowbarge.

We awoke to one of those mornings that tells you autumn has arrived.

 The dew lay heavy on the foliage and there was a distinct nip in the air. As it was Sunday Jill rattled out the frying pan and we were soon tucking into the jolly old e. & b., with the adddition of sausage, mushrooms and black pudding. As Somerset Maugham once famously said, "If you want to eat well in England eat three breakfasts." A truism then but English cuisine has come on rapidly since the days of soggy greens and lumpy tapioca, although my mother in law held out until the end.

Between Colthrop and Midgham locks C&RT had been busy piling and dredging.

 Only about 100yards but it's a start, only another 100 miles needs doing on this canal.
We had set off intending to head onward but the weather rapidly deteriorated and as the rain started The Rowbarge started to seem very attractive, so at Woolhampton we pulled over and moored. About 1330, having freshened up and put on our posh frocks, we headed off in search of sustenance. It turned out that the pub was hosting the local Round Table's duck race and was packed solid but, spotting a couple leaving, we headed the rush to grab the empty table. It was well worth the trampling and elbow digging. I know pub roasts are inclined to fail to reach the gastronomic heights but here

the beef was nicely rare, the Yorkshire pud crisp, the crackling crackled and the gravy was rich and tasty. Even the veg. was cooked to perfection. No room left for desert. I should add that the staff were friendly and attentive. And the King John bitter was well kept and well hopped. Have you got the idea that we were well impressed?
As we tottered out on our way back to the boat the heavens opened and by the time we had gained the shelter of Armadillo our Sunday finery was looking decidedly bedraggled, nothing left to do but put the feet up for an afternoon forty winks.
Burghfield tomorrow?

Watch this space..........