Day 8 - Pangbourne to Sonning - Friday 4 August

Distance: 10 miles
Time: 3 hours 25 minutes (yes, a rather slow day)
Walking partners: Dad and Uncle Alan (for, oooh, about a mile and a half.... these part-timers)
Accommodation: The Crown Inn, Playhatch

Knowing that I had a shortish day with a long gap in the middle meant that I had a leisurely breakfast alone in the soft toy and decorative plate sanctuary that was the Ferryboat Inn and then set off at 9ish. My first equipment failure (unless you count the disaster of the first backpack) was a snapped shoe lace. Aaah! practical repairs required! Fortunately it turned out to be not too technical even for me.

The way was pretty easy towards to Reading, though not the most picturesque of the journey. Some open fields to start then a diversion away from the river through a seemingly displaced Purley. Some pleasing texts from Sally and Brian and Jono again as I walked along.

I arrived at the less than beautiful metropolis of Reading to discover that the designated meeting place for finding my folks no longer existed so I went in search of an alternative landmark and due to my inept instructions ensured that Mum, Dad and Uncle Alan missed their lunch and nearly got a parking ticket in the process of waiting for me while I was dawdling around WH Smiths. Children are sooo ungrateful.

Dad and Uncle Alan joined me for the last stretch to Sonning which though a beautiful spot, was the location of the pub where I have been served the worst pint to date. I'd steer clear of the Great House Hotel if I were you - the fact that parking there is nigh on impossible will probably ensure that it will never have your custom anyway. (Never ask my Dad to remember a code to unlock the gate across a carpark for future reference.)

Fortunately our inn for the night at Playhatch, (my only luxury accommodation of the trip - excluding the 5 star treatment I had at Jo's and subsequently at Fiona's) was absolutely gorgeous though not without some trial and tribulation for me. Keen to take advantage of the fabulous-looking ensuite for my ablutions I jumped in the shower only to discover that no hot water was to be had. Having rung reception who sent a man over to establish that I wasn't just a customer who can't distinguish between the hot and cold tap, the only option was to gather up my belongings now spread over the entire space and to move rooms. Clearly the sensible thing was to do this while only wearing a small hand towel, especially as it involved going outside. It was equally sensible to lock the room keys inside the room while I was outside the room, obviously. Bill, who had joined us a the pub, wearily went back to reception to explain....

Superb meal at the Crown. I highly recommend it.