We’re back in familiar territory, at Henley on Thames. Himself has organised a few days here, in the lead up to my birthday.
Famed for its regatta, Henley made the news recently: in amongst the elegant regatta spectators, young people behaving badly. Drink may have been taken, inappropriate amounts of flesh might have been on show. I heard the tut-tutting of old school disapproval from across the channel. One simply does not behave like that at a regatta.
It’s a relaxing day: a walk into Henley, a little sightseeing, spotting a few bunnies and squirrels, browsing in the bookshop, a walk along the river. Occasionally, it’s rather lovely to do very little indeed.
I’ve always been charmed by Henley’s flint school house, built in 1500 (below).
Flotillas of geese, ducks and swans have quite a bit too say about the general lack of bread on our person.
Himself left some out to take: we promptly forgot it. Meanwhile, red kites soar overhead. They’re a reintroduced bird, thriving in this area after nearly becoming extinct.
Henley is looking gorgeous with its flower displays – they certainly push the boat out here. (an unintended rowing pun đŸ˜‰ đŸ˜‚)
And now that we know what these horse and coach entry ways are, we’re seeing them everywhere. Henley, like Amersham, was set up as a coach rest stop enroute to London.
Autumn is starting to make its presence felt. There’s a cool sting in the air and the chestnut trees are turning.
It’s a welcome relief from the heat of summer. This will be the first trip we’ve taken where we’ll cross three seasons, spring, summer and autumn.
My thoughts are starting to turn to home frequently. It’s a first, usually I have to be dragged back. With a month still to go, it’s been a long trip.
Miss Baci Travels 