When we drove up, this guy was standing in the road, trying to get run over:



We persuaded him out of the way, and he stalked majestically into the allotments opposite, occasionally making his presence known with the usual racket that peacocks make. I've no idea where he came from.

holdouttrout, if I do move here, you have to come visit me so I can take you to this pub:



Apparently it's famous around those parts, and has been seen on episodes of Inspector Morse. We sat in the garden, next to a bit of the Thames, a section that's used to control the river by siphoning off water through the weir. It's been very rainy recently, and parts of Oxfordshire are being hit by floods, so the river was impressively wild and woolly - a dangerous place for a dip. View from the pub garden:



Even the ducks needed a break, and were catching some rays rather than brave the current. The boy was a bit of a scruffy customer, but his girlfriend was elegant and beautiful, and a bit of a poseur.

  
 
A couple of last snaps from the pub garden, views up and down the river, either side of the same ivy-covered tree:

  

ETA: Coming back to add this - this was the weir, controlled from the lock about half a mile away. We were sat next to it, and it was damn noisy (but in a nice way):