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.
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| 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):
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| 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.
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| A slightly chilly Mrs. C. | 
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| Arriving at Oxford | 
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| Osprey tied up in Oxford | 
Once we got the boat tied up, we decided to go for a walk into town.
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| Beautiful garden roses | 
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| The other side of Oxford, on the way into town. | 
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| 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. 
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| 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.
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| 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.
 
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