Three Men in a Boat

The Miller of Mansfield, Goring

Trundled a mile to Wallingford and got out all happy and expectant of a bathe in the lido there. The paddling pool was open, full of gay, chortling children. After a significant wait behind some hippy bicycling nerd, we learned that the overstaffed lido didn't open til 12 - bastards.
Muttering, we boated and sculled off down the glistening Thames, flashing Vs at the public sector scum.
Startled to see an attractive young lady astride a huge, strangely brown, sweating beast with a long nose, but on closer inspection it turned out she was riding a horse.
Paused to mock the name of 'Ye Olde Leatherne Bottel' and lurched into Goring near Cleeve Lock, where we nearly came asunder.
Passing gorgeous George (Michael)'s house, we minced extravagantly in front of the CCTV cameras and made off to the pub for a pint. No Orange reception in Goring whatsoever so may have to post this later on.