We eventually made it to Folly Bridge on the Thames and rented a rowboat. (We figured that would be more stable than punting, which involves pushing the boat with a big pole while standing on the stern.) Amy and Ian had wanted a motorboat, but Snookums and I insisted on the “real deal”. How silly we were. Only Snookums had experience rowing, though, so he got to go first.

Oh look! Some swans with their babies. (They were big cygnets, almost full-size but still with the dark downy feathers.) Snookums tries to look while simultaneously rowing to keep us from hitting them.

We were getting tired of avoiding the barges and motorboats and professional rowers in the middle of the river, so we ducked into this nice little inlet. Except it wasn’t nice, it was all swampy and gross and we had to turn around because it was a dead end. And turning around in a rowboat is really, really hard.

Amy’s turn to row. I think the look on her face and the position of the oars says it all.

Ian took over from Amy, but he too struggled to keep us from hitting the bank. In our defense, there wasn’t anything to push your feet against so it was more awkward than normal rowing. You had to avoid smacking your legs and try not to splash everybody with the paddles and maintain and straight line and… it was really difficult.

Amy’s enjoying the riding part though. It was pretty nice, when we weren’t hitting the overhanging trees.

Okay, I wasn’t as good as Snookums, but I wasn’t too bad. But this is the only picture you’re getting.

As it was getting a bit late, Snookums piloted us the rest of the way back to the bridge. We were happy to say we’d accomplished the one goal of our trip, which was to do the traditional “mucking around the Thames on a leaky little boat” thing.

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