Eerily quiet

Never seen Finchingfield so deserted.
After a coat of paint on the fore peak on the boat we got the bikes out and rode over to Finchingfield. Warm enough to sit on a bench and drink our flask of coffee. A couple of cyclists went past, two motorcyclists shared another bench and one Buddhist did her prayers on the grass by the road junction.
Then it was back home for lunch and more pottering of a marine and horticultural nature.