We departed the White Hart after a hearty breakfast consisting of cereal followed by a cheese and bacon omelette for me and Lesley with her now familiar vegetarian breakfast with bacon. Timing was essential and walked the 300 yards to the bus stop for the hourly, 9:30 bus taking us back to Nuffield.
We had a chat with an elderly resident who was sharing our bus-shelter that was doubling as a village notice board. She was catching the bus also and spoke so softly we, thank goodness, only got the gist of her somewhat depressing conversation revolving around today's visit to a friend in a Reading care-home or hospice, the reasons why busses seem always to be late and that dreadful accident just down the road where one of the drivers was sadly, "no more". Like most people in the twilight years they find it increasingly difficult to mention the "D" word and use every other word imaginable to skirt round the use of it. I have a morbid theory on this but will keep it to myself as I start to approach the twilight years myself! 
Anyway-the bus was on time, there was no dreadful accident en-route and we happily set off again from where we left off yesterday. The walk today started with a nice downhill section on seemingly much lesser walked paths through woods then undulating across cereal fields with the familar to walkers, single track created initially by the farmer and then mainly by other walkers. Passing through a valley grazed by contented looking sheep and on to
St Botolph's a pretty church in Swyncombe where we merged paths with the Chiltern Way briefly before meeting a fellow walker heading the other way. We had a quick chat and his destination was Crowmarsh Gifford just about 6 miles away. He said we were the first 'long-distance' people he had met so far on his walk but I forgot to ask where he had started from today. Entering into some dense woods we had an unexpected 'big-up-climb' with tracks that ran off either side showing signs of fairly intensive forestation and clearance, before thankfully dropping back onto a track proper, joining with the Swan Way. 
The way ahead had a more familiar Ridgeway feel to it as it eventually became a metalled surface so we took to a suggested alternative track passing though a field with a lovely donated seat provided by Copas Farm. Excellent stopping point to refresh the body and mind, take a drink and snack, with with a wonderful view to boot!
Our first horse of the day passed by together with several sets of day walkers with much lighter-weight backpacks than ours! Crossing the B480 a road we both instantly recognised from towing our touring caravan from it's storage compound a few miles away, up to Henley for weekends. Those walkers now finishing the day in Watlington
may take a left here on this half-mile of road but to avoid the traffic wait for a later bridleway or perhaps if you are tenting, there is Whyte Mark Farm, although we have to confess we didn't spot this, even though the map shows it's clearly on the track! ( Its just 100 yards down the road we found out when camping there later) There were several more open track miles for us before we turned off for the day, where way-marked to Kingston Blount. About a mile down the single track lane to the Cherry Tree pub, a fine looking local but with an ominous 'To Let' sign up by the front window.
We spoke to a guy we met outside telling us it seems a pretty quite pub with no one in when he visited this lunchtime. We were greeted by a young too blond girl, a white scary dog and her toddler scooting around in one of those 4 wheel pushers that remove plaster from your walls and paint from the doors! We were taken across to our hut of a room at the rear of the pub. Stepping over a pile of laundry with no apologies and it didn't move at all while we were there for our stay. We both opted for a bath in the mini-tub with a dubious greek-style shower hanging lopsidedly over-head. We changed into our evening wear before a late afternoon pint of Oxford Gold. It appeared at this stage the pub was doubling as a meeting point for children their minders and their siblings, but lacked any 'proper' customers entirely. These two are surely linked as if one feels uncomfortable to want to drink there, it is surely a recipe for a downward spiral. However on the plus side, it was a nice pint, the sun was shining warmly enabling us to sit outside soak it up and take a picture to prove it. Our evening meal was equally bizarre with us choosing a 'safety bite' from the menu, so we both went for a simple burger and chips, believing our unorthodox hosts couldn't get that wrong. It was just about average and once consumed we felt the need to leave the bar as soon as we could before going for a long stroll around the pretty but what was unhappily a 'one pub' village,(the pub is sadly closed now of 2018) feeling quite sorry for the inhabitants. As usual we read for a while on our return and despite the sparse surroundings and mis-fitting jumble-sale furniture in our room, we slept soundly,not really relishing the thought of breakfast in the morning!