The Anglo Saxon Chronicle of 912 records a settlement called Oxenford at a pace where local people would drive their cattle across the river. The popular belief has always been that the city takes its name from the words “ox” and “ford” and that the crossing place was here, at was is now Folly Bridge.

By the 11th century, the low lying lands and river were spanned by a causeway made up of a series of stone bridges, which in medieval times was called Grandpont. The bridges were maintained by charity, with hermits collecting alms at a wayside chapel. In the 19th century a railway station was opened near Folly Bridge and the Grandpont estate laid out on land reclaimed from the marshes. The name Grandpont also lives on in the riverside park whose entrance is on the far right-hand-side of the bridge.

The river here is the Isis, the name given to the Oxford stretch of the River Thames. The “Head of the River” pub takes its name from the finish of the college bumping races held during the Eights week in May. Crews of eight oarsmen race in procession trying to catch and bump the boat the boat in front and thus move up to take the title “head of the river”. The first organised race took place between Brasenose and Jesus Colleges in 1815, but other colleges soon joined in over a set course from Iffley Lock finishing here near Folly Bridge.

Salter Boatyards which operates pleasure cruises was established beside Folly Bridge in 1858. It was from here too that Charles Dodgson (better known as Lewis Carroll) set out on a rowing expedition to Godstow with Alice Liddell and her sisters, the daughters of the Dean of Christ Church. He told them stories from which the “Alice” stories were born. *

*From a sign board at Folly Bridge

I ordered egg and bacon for breakfast which I was expecting to be a small portion without all the added extras of a full cooked breakfast. I was wrong, I was served double quantities of egg and bacon! After breakfast we packed our cases into the car and set off towards Coughton Court which was our chosen stop off point on our journey home. On arrival at Coughton Court we had a cup of tea before taking a tour of the house.

Unfortunately it was raining heavily during our visit which meant we weren’t able to visit the garden and that photo opportunities were limited. However we did drop lucky when we visited the Anglican Church just as a historian started to give a very interesting and informative talk on the history of Coughton Court and the Throckmortons. After the talk it was time for lunch before continuing on our journey home. After such a large breakfast all I needed was a small cake to tide me over until our evening meal.

We packed the car and then went to collect my mum before setting off on our journey to Oxford (one year later than planned). The journey was slower than expected due to other drivers tootling along. Along the way we stopped off at Chipping Campden, where we had lunch in a lovely tea room. I chose sauteed mushrooms on rustic bread, it was delicious. After lunch we took a stroll around the delightful village before continuing on our journey to Oxford.

Our destination was The Head of the River which is a Fullers Pub with rooms. All the rooms have literary names and the wallpaper in the corridors also carries the literary theme. Whilst I unpacked, Mr C set out into the city to find somewhere suitable to eat.  This is a standard ritual for our first night away and it normally takes him about 30 minutes. An hour later there was still no sign of his return…

Photo taken by Mr C

I sent him a text to make sure he hadn’t fallen in the river Apparently he had managed to get lost, not once but twice and in his confusion he ended up in a street named ‘Turn Again Lane’, at which point he thought someone was having a laugh at his expense!!

Eventually Mr C returned…

On this occasion his recce was not a complete success because we still ended up walking rather a long way before we found the ideal place for our evening meal. Eventually we settled on the Red Lion which has an extensive ‘pub food’ menu. By the time we arrived there my legs had become quite wobbly due to not having eaten for seven hours. Whilst we were there The Pope and a Knights Templar (followed by several young ladies) tried to enter the pub… They were informed that if they wished to enter they would have to disrobe. A few minutes later two young men (followed by several young ladies) entered the pub.

Thankfully my legs were almost fully restored when it was time to leave for the return walk to the Head of the River where we had a nightcap overlooking the river before retiring to sleep in Oscar Wilde.