Holidays on the Thames

None more so than when mum Rose Horwood unceremoniously fell in the water.

Daughter Christine recalls: “She placed one foot on each end of the two boats while searching for bread for breakfast, the boats gradually parted and down she went in between the two.

“She said she sank to the bottom like a stone and by a miracle came up at the side of the boat and grabbed hold.

“That may have been the law of gravity, but to us, it was a miracle! Most of us were asleep, except my cousin John who was up early for a swim. He was an excellent swimmer and helped her to the bank.

“He laughed and thought it a great joke, but mum did not think it was funny at all. However, she enjoyed telling the story after the event.”

The Horwood family – dad Chris, mum Rose, Christine and brother Douglas, who lived at Church Cowley Road, Oxford – enjoyed annual holidays on the Thames in the 1950s.

Christine, now Christine Horwood-Middleton, of Auckland, New Zealand, writes: “Mum always packed everything bar the kitchen sink for this wonderful adventure.

“The local vegetable man arrived with his horse and cart to load our holiday needs on to his wagon for two glorious weeks on water.

“We all squeezed together on the front wooden seat. It was a spectacular farewell to the neighbours as they waved from their doorways. The excitement was almost too much to bear. A bit like Christmas!

“When we arrived at Iffley lock, we unloaded and transferred everything to the boat – even the gramophone with a few favourite records.

“One record we liked playing was Cruising down the river on a Sunday afternoon, which we thought appropriate, especially on a Sunday!

“One year, we took Mick, our black and brown pet dog. What an experience paddling down the Thames, us children taking turns with the oars. How we managed to fit everything on that narrow boat is a mystery to me.”

The family would moor at a suitable place, pitch their tent and cook whatever was in the larder on a primus stove. They would walk to the nearest village for bread and milk.

Mrs Horwood-Middleton writes: “We sometimes travelled as far as Abingdon. Gliding along the Thames was a pretty picture, with the weeping willows dipping their branches into the water.

“Small fish could be spotted kissing the surface, this all so fascinating to young eyes.

“We observed many water rats swimming and disappearing into their holes and swans gracefully protecting their cygnets as we paddled along.”

One year, aunts, uncles and cousins joined them and they hired two boats.

That was how poor Mrs Horwood ended up with a ducking!