Mixed feelings on leaving Henley. The landlord of the Angel on the Bridge, Mark is so kind and hospitable that it is a pleasure to visit his lovely pub. We are allowed to moor up under the bridge in the centre of the town in the middle of the Regatta hullaballoo much to the irritation of passing fat cats in those little James Bond wooden speed boats. But on a hot evening the forecourt is packed with rowers and hoorays from the Regatta who have not come to watch a play about a Socialist Cycling Club but to down buckets of Pimms and go Ra Ra Ra at the tops of their voices all night long. We shouted the play into the milling crowd who crossed and re-crossed the stage staggering to the loo and the bar. There were three islands of spectators who tried to stay with us but to no avail. The level of noise and the level of happy indifference was just too great to overcome. We got to the end of the play - well done Rachel, Gemma and Rick for carrying on - but it was an unequal struggle and gave no pleasure to the audience - (both those interested and those not).
It was a welcome change to visit our long term friends at the Chichester Canal Society the next day and play to a very appreciative audience as part of the Chichester festival in Donnington Parish Hall.
We are now moored up at the Rowbarge in Woolhampton ready for tonights show having had a lovely days boating up the Thames and along the Kennet and Avon Canal which seems more calm and beautiful every time I do it. Like falling into a green tunnel past hay fields, little flint cottages and boiling weir streams.