We were pretty lucky with the snail of Friday-night/Bank Holiday Weekend traffic weaving along the A40 Westway/M40, and in less than two hours we were bouncing down the rutted track to Forge Farm and our mooring – seemingly a million miles from London…
The farm looked drenched, yet vibrant too, an intensity to the greens, and the verdant growth. Forge Farm proprietor Gregg was down by the water as we pulled up, packing a short section of decking with green matter he’d weeded from one of the small plots that surround his self build farm house.
It was great to talk to Gregg again, to slow down and catch up as he shared the Oxford Canal ‘village news’.
The boat’s settled well into her new environment and reassuringly, after the turbulent and soaking weather these last two weeks, was dry as a bone. She’s survived the storms in great style.
I found myself feeling inordinately proud of our Eileen.
With the evening light fading fast we had a focused hour settling into the boat: whilst Claire got ready to go out for an evening meal, I deeply enjoyed lighting the ‘long cabin’ stove. It was a gently domestic time; after the rush and stress of the working week, this was a reflective, calm and relaxed time together.
We drove across the hill to the nearby village of Chacombe and ‘The George & Dragon’ for supper.
A lovely evening, good food, a bustling pub, great company and all the time in the world to enjoy ourselves.