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On Wednesday morning, Martin drove me first to Kelmscott Manor, which it seemed right to visit on the trip, the river was such an inspiration to William Morris. We arrived just before it opened at 11, and sped around rooms that were filled to the brim by the time we left. After admiring the garden, we drove back to Radcot, where Martin waved me off at about
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12. The wind was still on the nose, funnelling down the river regardless of its twists and turns as the banks are so high. Sail down and up at Radcot lock, which is quickly followed by a footbridge. I rashly decided to try keeping sail on mast again. Chaos resulted and a close acquaintance with a reed bed. Pink-cheeked and puffing, I resolved never to try it again.
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