Oundle (pron OW-ndul as if you’ve stubbed your toe) has had a market in the same spot since 972. That is not a misprint, I did not leave out the one. The current incarnation is a farmers’ market that happens once a month, but we happened to be in town on the right day.

After foraging for food, we set out for the Wadenhoe. We moored up by the King’s Head again, arriving just before the lunchtime rush. I went for a walk through some of the neighboring villages.

Oh, look, butterfly sex. It’s probably almost as interesting as damselfly sex, but I can’t be bothered to look it up.

This was a bit daunting, but I carried on anyway. I did not want to go back along the narrow path lined with stinging nettles.

It turned out they were just widening this stone bridge. There was no problem walking across.

This bit of road must have been prone to flooding. There is a raised boardwalk with a railing on one side of it.

The welcome sight of the millpond back at Wadenhoe. I was pretty footsore by that time.