oh, cock

My reasoning for going to Jeremy's was swayed by @ymas00's helpful insights in the comments of my poll. In addition, there looked to be more to do in Oxford compared to Salisbury, and my partner Tim is a university lecturer so we liked the idea of getting a look at a uni town.

For some context, I am disabled, with multiple physical and psychosocial disabilities intersecting to mean I have quite a few access needs. This post will mention those access needs quite a bit.

Our journey there involved walking from our hotel (right next to the British Museum) to Tottenham Court Road station, where we got an Elizabeth Line train to Paddington Station. From there, we got on a Great Western Railway train to Oxford (which we wanted to do because we thought we'd want to check out Oxford before and after going to the pub. We only ended up exploring Oxford afterwards, so if I had done the trip over I probably would have done the route Google Map suggests, which is to get the GWR train through to Hanborough). At Oxford, we got one bus to Witney, and then another bus from Witney to the Farmer's dog.

So, to recap: Hotel -> Tottenham Court Road station -> Paddington Station -> Oxford -> Witney -> Farmer's Dog.

The first half of our journey was relatively stress-free. When we got on the GWR train, we plopped ourself down in a booth seat and then a stranger slid in next to us. Considering the train was still half empty and no normal person would voluntarily choose to sit next to strangers, I realised we must have been in his booked seat and we stood up immediately. He pointed out the lights on the roof of the train, with little LED windows. The lights were red if the seat was booked, orange if the seat was going to become available after Reading (the first stop), and green if they were available. There was nowhere on the website where we booked our tickets to indicate we could choose a seat, so we'd mistakenly thought there were no assigned seats at all and I still have no clue how to book a seat. Regardless, we found some seats with green lights and sat down—and we were lucky to do so, because the train was very full and multiple people had to stand in the aisle.

On the platform at Paddington. Our train is on the right. Our train arrived in Oxford at 10:45, and we decided to go straight to the pub. When we hopped on the bus I tried to tap my card and the bus driver looked at me like I was a moron and said "you have to tell me where you want to go," and I said, "okay." He then added, "not that it matters because it's all the same price" (to which I say, what's the point then?) We paid our £3 (each) and went upstairs to find that the seats at the front were free, much to my excitement. We don’t really have double decker buses in Sydney, so sitting at the top of one was a complete novelty and felt very weird.

The bus journey was uneventful, and we arrived in Witney with plenty of time to meet our connecting bus at 12:05. While everything had been very punctual thus far, 12:05 came… and went… with no sign of the bus. When it finally turned up, ten minutes late, another tourist family hopped on before us and told the driver they were going to the Farmer’s Dog. The driver looked apologetic and said “I can’t actually go there because there’s roadworks.”

Cue some internal panic. I stood there listening to their conversation for a few minutes. The driver was apologetic, but there was nothing he could do. He wasn’t stopping anywhere near the pub, and the nearest stop he could do was a twenty-minute walk alongside what looked on google maps to be a highway. That was too much walking for me, and I turned to Tim and said “well, that’s it” and marched off the bus to sit on a bench and have the meltdown that I could feel coming on.

About thirty seconds into the meltdown, though, I remembered something and stood up abruptly. I marched my way back to the bus stop, and went past it and into the Witney Council office, which we had been standing in front of to wait. I asked the nice man in there if there was a taxi rank in this town, and he directed me down the road a little. (As we walked past the bus again, we could see that the bus driver, bless him, was on the phone to his depot asking if there was a different way to get the tourist family close to the Farmer’s Dog. In Australia the bus driver probably would have told them that it wasn’t his problem and to get the fuck off his bus.) We found two taxis sitting there, and while the first one said he was waiting for a booked fare, the second one was happy to take us there. It cost £14 but I gave him a £20 and told him to keep the change because he was our saviour, and then we were finally there, at 12:30.

I’d been rather overconfident and had thought, well, it’s a Tuesday and it’s also a pretty rainy and miserable day, so surely it won’t be too busy. I was completely and utterly wrong. As we drove in, the taxi driver pointed out the overflow parking, which is a massive field—and it was full of cars and caravans. There appeared to be parking only for blue badge holders (which I think is the UK’s disability parking pass?? but correct me if I’m wrong) quite near the entrance, but that too was very full. It was very, very busy, and there were lots of people.

In addition to being overconfident, I had also been a bit naive. I’d only thought about making a booking at the pub the evening before, and logged on to find that (of course) it was completely booked up for not just tomorrow, but for the entire month of August. I’d reconsidered going altogether, but thanks to @ymas00’s urging, I realised we could still see the tent and get some food, so all was not lost. This is all to say that, dear reader, I must confess something: I never actually went into the Farmer’s Dog. In fact, the closest I got to it was seeing people lining up to go in. All I saw was the tent (also known as the Farmer’s Puppy) and the farm shop.

I took one look at the massive line (or queue as the Brits call it) to order food at the Farmer’s Puppy and had another moment of internal panic. Lines are really difficult for me; I can walk for a lot longer than I can stand still. Thankfully, though, it moved relatively quickly, and within ten minutes we had ordered our food.

The way it worked was this: The big queue was just to order food and drinks inside the tent. To the right of the ramp, where the queue went inside, there was a little bar, so if you just wanted drinks you could order there. You could also bypass the line entirely if you wanted to go inside the tent to go to the farm shop (although there was another line for that) or the Hops & Chops shop, which had meat, things to eat like sausage rolls and pies, and booze. When you ordered food, they gave you a buzzer and when it vibrated, you went around to the left of the tent (out of view in the photo above) and collected your food. There were lots of picnic benches scattered around to the right of the tent, and while most of them had umbrellas, quite a few didn't so you had to sit in the rain.

I didn't see anything that made it look egregiously physically inaccessible. I can't speak to the pub itself because it didn't go inside, but in theory, the tent has a ramp (although it seemed pretty steep, I don't know if you'd be able to get a manual wheelchair up there without someone pushing you) and outside, while it is grass, is pretty flat and smooth. There's a large amount of seating (more than appears at first glance, because the seating area stretches quite a way away from the tent) but the benches with umbrellas were all taken so while we could find a seat, it was in the rain.

Directly centre in this image is the little outside bar. The line to the left is to order food.

Here is the menu on the day we went (which was Tuesday the 29th of July 2025):

Tim and I both got the burger and one serving of fries (chips? don't you guys call them chips? I know we do in Australia). FYI, the burger included pickles, which weren't written on the ingredients list. To drink, they had multiple beers and two ciders (the Hawkstone Cider, which is an apple cider, and the Hawkstone Hedgerow, which is 'dark fruit' cider). I don't like beer and Tim isn't a massive beer drinker, so I asked which of the ciders was sweeter and ordered two pints of the Hawkstone Hedgerow.

Everything was delicious. The cider tasted like alcoholic blackcurrent juice. The chips were yummy and crispy and didn't taste too potato-y (what I mean by that is I don't like when chips taste like wedges. I am a really picky eater LOL). Tim took one bite of the burger and moaned and said "oh that's a really good burger." I liked it, but wasn't won over as much as he was until two or three bites in. I initially wasn't sure about the watercress mayo, but it grew on me. The onions and the patty were my favourite parts; they were really yum.

Some of the seating area outside. (I don't like publishing photos of strangers publicly on the internet, hence the emojis.)

Once we were done eating, I ordered a half pint of the Hawkstone cider to try it. Neither of us liked it much—it tasted really beer-y to me, and Tim reckoned it had some barley in it. Once that was done, we went inside the tent to go to the farm shop. I bought some things, and because we spent over £50, we got a free tote bag which is fun.

Lining up for the farm shop. This line was at the opposite end of the tent to where the food line was. It moved quickly, and we were in the farm shop in about five minutes or so. To the right of the photo is Hops & Chops, but the entrance to that is closer to where the food order line is.

Another view of the inside of the tent. The whole effect was quite lovely; the fairy lights gave it a cute atmosphere.

Some of the meat inside Hops & Chops. I was sad we don't have a kitchen in our hotel room, because I was keen to try it; it all looked delicious. They had a sign on the wall displaying the name of the farm today's meat came from, how far it is from the pub, and the breed of animal. Pretty cool; I like meat, and I like it even more when I know where it came from.

I didn't realise Jeremy was competing with James's gin. I hate gin, otherwise I'd have bought some to try and compare. I don't mind vodka, but getting a full bottle of vodka home to Australia sounds like a nightmare.

Cow Juice! Unfortunately the machine was broken. You could still buy glass bottles that said "Cow Juice", you just couldn't fill them.

Here's what I bought from the farm shop:

I wanted to get a couple of bottles of the Hedgerow cider by themselves, but it looked like the only option was either a 12-pack in glass bottles, or the gift box which includes the apple cider. I got the gift box because Tim said he'd drink the apple. I also got a teatowel, a cap for my dad, a fridge magnet, a candle that allegedly smells like Jeremy's bollocks, and Tim got some fudge. Finally we got the free tote bag.

Our journey back was a bit convoluted. Both of us have UK eSIMs in our phone, but we can only receive calls and texts, not send or make any, so we couldn't call for a taxi. I googled "Witney taxi" and downloaded the app that came up, Go Green Taxis, which appears to be more of an uber-like service rather than what I would call a taxi. Regardless, it worked, although it took a while; we waited for about 35 minutes before our driver arrived, because he was in Oxford when he picked up the job. It was £19 for the journey back to Witney, and then another £3 for the bus to Oxford.

The little bits of Oxford we managed to see.

We got off in Oxford with a view to wandering around and seeing the sights. We went to a cool sci-fi/fantasy/nerdy bookshop, Blackwell's, before it became apparent that my pain was reaching critical levels and I needed to pack it in. Trying to work out what stop the bus stopped at was tricky so we just decided to walk from the town centre to the station, which was only about ten minutes and relatively flat—and my pain is always better when I'm moving vs when I'm standing still. Finally, we made it to the station and got on the train, which was a lot emptier this time around. When we got to Paddington, we got a taxi back to our hotel, and walked through the door at 6:30 pm—having left at 9 am.

So. Was it worth it? I think so, yes. The food was yummy, but I also liked going out of London and seeing some smaller towns & villages. There wasn't much actually Grand Tour related stuff beyond the tent itself and the sign, but if you're interested in the things Jeremy is up to, there is lots to see. That being said, it was a long and really, really exhausting day, and if you are at all disabled, neurodivergent, or just prone to fatigue, I would plan your itinerary very carefully to mitigate this. In fact, I would recommend hiring a car and driving there, and this is something I likely would have done if I weren't staying in the middle of London.

In terms of ease of getting around, the only hiccup was the bus from Witney to the pub. Google maps did not indicate that the bus was running on a diverted route; we only found up when the bus turned up (and ten minutes late to boot). Oh, also the weird seating thing on the train. Otherwise, everything was clearly signposted and easy to find, and the trains and the bus from Oxford to Witney were all very punctual.

The total cost breakdown for both of us is as follows:

(£2.90 x 2) £5.80 for Tottenham Court Road to Paddington £78 for 2 return tickets on GWR to Oxford (£3 x 2) £6 for the bus to Witney £20 (with a tip) for the taxi to the pub £33 for food (2 burgers and chips) £17 for drinks (2 pints of Hedgerow cider, 1 half pint of Hawkstone cider) (at least) £50 for stuff from the farm shop* £20 (with a tip) for the taxi to Witney (£3 x 2) £6 for the bus from Witney to Oxford £22.50 for the taxi from Paddington to our hotel =£258.30 total (*I don't remember exactly how much everything cost from the shop, and I didn't get a receipt LOL)

Obviously this is a lot of money (I'm trying really hard not to think about the fact that it's over $500 AUD, which is a lot of money). I don't know if renting a car would end up cheaper when you factor in fuel costs and stuff like that, but it would certainly make it a LOT more convenient.