Chapter Eight. The Trip Comes to an End
We left Streatley the next day. The first part of the river was a little boring because there weren't any locks. This is good for rowing teams that want to practise, but I like locks. I think they make the river interesting. You can chat to people on other boats there.
Speaking of locks, I remember a morning at Hampton Court. I was with George. It was a lovely summer's day. There were lots of boats and people at the lock. A photographer was there too.
I saw George check his hair and clothes. Then he tried to look interesting and sad. I didn't understand why at first. I thought perhaps there was a pretty girl on the lock. Then I saw that everyone was preparing for a photograph. I quickly put my fingers through my hair too. We were waiting for the photographer to take the picture when we heard someone shout.
‘Hey! Look at your nose!' I didn't understand. I tried to look at George's nose without moving too much. It was fine. I looked at my own. Nothing wrong there.
‘Look at your nose, you fools!'
‘Hey, you with the dog!'
We didn't want to turn round and see what the problem was. We didn't want to miss the photograph. But everyone was shouting and pointing now so we looked. The nose of our boat was under the wood of the lock. The water was coming up and the back of our boat was going up into the air. We quickly took our oars and pushed hard. The boat was free but we fell. Of course the photographer took the photograph at that moment. It wasn't a good one of us. We were lying on our backs, very surprised, with our feet in the air.
Actually our feet were ninety percent of the photograph. It was hard to see anything else. If you looked very carefully you could see bits of other boats too. Of course nobody wanted to buy a copy of the photograph when they saw it.
‘I'll buy one if you can show me my boat in it,' one man said. But nobody could. The photographer was angry. He wanted George and me to buy several copies each.
‘All you can see in the photograph is you two,' he said.
‘Yes, but it isn't a good photograph of us.' I answered. ‘I never buy bad photographs.'
We rowed all day. We passed Wallingford and Dorchester. They are both very old towns. They were there before the Romans came and have seen a lot of history. We slept on the boat that night and got up early the next morning. We wanted to get to Oxford in the afternoon. It's easier to get up early when you aren't sleeping in a comfortable bed. The last mile of the river before Oxford is the hardest. The river pulls you one direction and then another. There can be accidents and so there's a lot of bad language.
Everyone is angrier on the river. I don't know why, but the river does that to a man. Actually I knew a young woman too who changed completely on the river. She spoke in the most terrible way.
We stopped at Oxford for two days before we started the return journey. We enjoyed our stay and Montmorency enjoyed it too. There were lots of other dogs there.
On our trip we chose to row up the river from London to Oxford, not down the river from Oxford to London. It's harder work but I prefer it, if Harris and George are rowing. In my opinion, only lazy fellows start in Oxford and follow the river down to London.
However, if you choose to start your trip in Oxford, you should take your own boat. The boats you can rent in Oxford will take you down the river (if you're careful with them). However they're certainly not new or pretty. You don't want other people to see you in one. If you have to use one, you travel very early in the morning or late at night, and you stay close to the side, under the trees. Then, if you see someone you know, you can get out of the boat quickly and go behind a tree.
Some friends and I rented a boat like that once. We wrote to ask for a boat and didn't see it until the day of our trip. When we arrived at the river, a boy was sent to get our boat. He returned with something that I thought was from Roman times. I asked the boy what it was.
‘It's your boat,' he said. We laughed, thinking he was very funny.
Finally his boss came.
‘Is there a problem here?' he asked.
‘Your boy says this old thing is our boat,' my friend said.
‘It is,' he answered.
‘Really?' We were surprised. Then, after a few moments, I spoke.
‘Some paint could be a good idea.' He wasn't pleased.
‘I've never had any problems in more than forty years,' he said.
We said no more, and took the boat. We used some string to hold it together, prayed and got in.
We left Oxford in the rain and it rained all day. Harris and I tried to enjoy it and be happy. George didn't even try: he sat holding an umbrella without speaking.
We put the canvas on the boat before lunch and didn't take it off again. It rained heavily all afternoon and evening. Harris and I were quiet now too. In the evening we stopped and had a cold, wet meal on the boat. Nobody enjoyed it. Not even Montmorency. Afterwards we played cards, then we talked.
‘I knew a fellow who slept on a boat on a night like this. He became ill and died,' George said. ‘He was a young fellow too. It was very sad.'
‘Something like that happened to my friend,' Harris said. ‘He didn't die but he never walked again.' We discussed illnesses then and enjoyed ourselves a little more.
‘If we get ill, it won't be easy to get to a doctor out here on the boat,' Harris said. We thought about it for a minute or two and became a little worried. We needed some fun so I asked George to play his banjo and he agreed immediately. But he played and sang a sad song. Harris and I began to cry and Montmorency howled. We all agreed it was better to try to sleep.
Nobody slept well. The next morning the weather was the same. It rained all day. Nobody was happy and nobody spoke much. But we agreed to finish our two week trip; there were only two days left.
We began to discuss our plans for the evening.
‘We can stop at Pangbourne and have dinner on the boat,' I said.
‘In the rain,' George said.
‘Then we can go to a pub,' I continued.
‘In the rain,' George said again. It wasn't a very exciting plan. Nobody spoke for a minute or more.
‘It's a shame we've agreed to stay the full two weeks on the boat,' Harris said at last. ‘I'd really like to go to a music hall.'
‘We could catch the five o'clock train from Pangbourne to London,' George said after a moment. We all looked at each other. Nobody said a word. Then we started to pack our bags. We told the boatman to prepare our boat for nine o'clock the next morning.
‘If, for any reason, we don't come, you can send our things to this address,' I said, giving him a piece of paper. Then, dressed in dirty trousers, hats and raincoats, we went quickly and quietly to the station. We didn't want anybody to see us. We waited round a corner. When the train arrived, we looked all around us to be sure nobody was watching, and then got on.
We arrived in London at seven, had something to eat and went to a music hall. We enjoyed it a lot. Then we went for supper. After nearly two weeks of cold meat, bread and jam we were ready for a really nice meal. We ate a lot. Finally, feeling full, we sat back and relaxed. Harris looked out of the window. It was raining.
‘Ah, we've had a good trip on the river but I think we were right to leave,' he said. ‘Let's have a toast to us three.' We held our glasses up in the air.
‘To us,' he said. ‘To us,' we answered. And Montmorency barked.
