Day eight was another cold one, and we bundled up and set out for Oxford, which we had heard was a mighty quiet little town buried in the Choptank.
Mr. C making sure we stay in the channel leaving the anchorage. No running aground for these Cauldrons!
We spotted some oystermen out tonging for oysters as we left the area (the season had just started):
|He’s got a lot more oysters than Mr. C did at the museum!|
It was pretty darn cold that day. By the time we got to Oxford, I couldn’t feel my feet.
|A slightly chilly Mrs. C.|
|Arriving at Oxford|
|Osprey tied up in Oxford|
Once we got the boat tied up, we decided to go for a walk into town.
|Beautiful garden roses|
|The other side of Oxford, on the way into town.|
|The Oxford-Bellevue ferry, believed to be the nation’s oldest operating private ferry service.|
We got some local insight and determined that we’d head to Pope’s Tavern for dinner.
|Yep, that’s the Popemobile!|
We went back to the boat, did some laundry at the marina, and got ourselves prettified for a nice dinner out. Boy was it worth it! We met several local Oxford folks, had some great conversations, and shared many toasts about all the fun we were having.
|After a great meal at Pope’s Tavern|
We got a ride back to the boat from some of our new friends, and tucked ourselves in for another nice night on the water.