A rare opportunity of childlessness enabled two of us to go on a small cycling adventure. I started the morning with a quick visit to the city centre where I admired the sights.
I paid particular attention to some of the views looking up. I'd heard this mentioned by a tour guide as he and a big group wandered past, and he has a point in Oxford.
Anthony Gormley's modern take looks more like a potential suicide from this vantage.
The town is uniquely gifted for tatt.
We soon hit the road and cycled down to the canal and turned right, out of the town, instead of the usual left. We passed many residents in canal boats, signs of social activity on the side (tables and chairs, barbecues, empty cans etc.) and ducked under this bridge, turning off the canal and heading down the road.
It was a most picturesque ride, past old houses, attractive villages and pubs.
The Village Shop(pe), known for its bacon butties and otherwise lack of stock, was closed.
