Woodstock Moment

After our exhausting tour of Blenheim Palace yesterday, we turned back to the village of Woodstock which it dominates for a recovery ale and bight to eat. Woodstock is a pretty village and worth a stop in its own right. The phone navigated us to The Woodstock Arms where I was amazed to park right out the front! Trust me, these villages have few on street spaces so this was a promising sign.
On top of that, the menu looked promising, until we were warned that the oven was down for two hours so no hot food. We settled for 2 halves of cider and some crisps and collapsed in some lounge chairs and chatted to the barmaid. The pub was quiet at 4pm - in the old days most of them closed between 3 and 6 pm and perhaps the poms stick to those hours still even though many pubs remain open for passing trade. Afternoon closing used to catch us out all the time in 1980, leaving me hungry, thirsty and cursing out-dated English trading hours.
Anyway, our friendly barmaid was from Portugal and hoped to study communications at Oxford next year. I had asked about one of the ales on tap, Ruddles, and she gave me a taste. It poured slowly and had a full head like Guinness but was lighter in colour and less bitter to taste. I could have drunk a pint but was the responsible driver. A typical enjoyable moment on our tour. The photo is of Woodstock but not of the Arms - we occasionally forget to snap a photo!