Jane’s Walk 2022 – Day 5
We start in good time back at Port Meadow, Charles and Angela having left their car at our house.
On Osney Island, we meet up with Richard, who had picked up David from the station; he had travelled down from London to join us. David has kindly joined us on our walks on several occasions.
Today we had an interesting walk through Oxford along the river. The first part I know well, enjoying the views of numerous Oxford colleges set back in beautiful parkland, slightly spoilt by being so brown and lifeless. Past all the college boat houses and club houses sporting their College emblems. Term has not started yet, but there were some rowing eights on the river with their coaches on bikes shouting instructions. It’s always a thrilling sight to me. We have been on mainly deserted pathways during the last 4 days; today is full of Sunday runners and bicycles who have to negotiate around Moses, no respecter of either. Once under Donnington Bridge, I am in new territory and am intrigued by the number of inlets once used to offload barges into warehouses. Most of these are now redundant, I think.
We are now in the beautiful village of Iffley, and Charles points out a charming house belonging to one of his friends sitting right on the river. It must have one of the best views in Oxford. We pass under the Oxford bypass and the main railway line and into peaceful countryside again. The going isn’t so easy here as the path is narrow and deeply rutted by bicycles, making walking a bit tricky. However, it is a pleasant walk, and we arrive at the Radley College boathouse ready for our lunch.
Poor Richard has struggled to find a pub or restaurant to take our booking. Having tried 8 places, he has had to resort to going into the centre of Abingdon. He drives us there, where we have an excellent lunch. We decided that rather than take two car journeys back to our stopping place, we would walk along the path from today’s endpoint, which just is across the road. The tranquillity of the walk back was marred by the noise of motorbikes roaring in the distance. This turned out to be due to a Motor Cross rally on the other side of the river. We enjoy watching about 30/40 motorbikes roaring around a complex course with impressive jumps and hill descents. It was obviously quite a local event, with only a small crowd of spectators. However, they appeared to be very professional. I once had a friend whose son took up Motor Cross rallying at the age of 10 and is now a young professional. I remember the days when I was terrified when my children competed at horse events, but a mother watching their son doing this must be even worse.
We leave the noise behind us and arrive safely at the Radley boathouse again.
