Navigating the Thames - and teens - comes with unexpected challenges

At times, on this short narrowboating voyage along the upper reaches of the River Thames, it feels like my closest friend Phil and I are holidaying with two teen Kardashians. "Where's the socket for my hairdryer?" asks my 13-year-old, Freya, soon after we board Duloe, our 20-metre-long, two-metre-wide floating home. "Is there a washing machine?" questions my 16-year-old, Mila.

Asked to comment on the Cotswold countryside, and mellifluously named places like Bablock Hythe, Chimney Meadows and Tadpole Bridge, that we are passing through, the response is mixed: "It's greener than back home," opines Freya, semi-positively, while Mila puts down Snapchat briefly, to declare: "It all looks the same."

As a single dad keen to share his homeland with his daughters, I'd hoped this four-day traditional narrowboat trip along England's most famous river, west of Oxford, with its rural scenery and activity at intermittent locks, might engage them. Unfortunately, I hadn't counted on the driving September rain and cross-winds that have so far accompanied us as we zig-zag along the waterway, inducing cabin fever in all save the person brave enough to step outside to skipper the boat.

Today, Phil is at the helm, with rain cascading off his face and wet-weather gear.

"Are you OK?" I shout up to him.

"I can't get wetter than this," he nods grimly, before rapidly proving himself wrong.

Over the next few hours, as Phil stoically guides us along the river, I ply him with Earl Grey teas and sandwiches, made in the cosy galley below.

At Radcot Lock, in the late afternoon, the girls finally disembark, to help the friendly lock-keeper in getting us through. The normal process for this, when a lock-keeper isn't present, involves mooring up on approach and two crew members hopping out and half-opening the paddles on the lock gates, using large windlasses, to allow water to slowly drain out. Next, we pull apart the gates by pushing on huge levers on either side, to allow the boat to enter.

Once inside, the boat is secured to moorings before the gates are closed behind it. Then the paddles on the front gates are half-opened, allowing water to slowly flow out, before we pull them fully open to continue on, not forgetting to close the doors behind us.

To be fair, helping out at locks is one part of our trip that my teens relish. When lock-keepers appear, though, they have the whole process under control and are full of good advice. "You do know you're the only thing on the river today?" grins the keeper at Radcot Lock, through the downpour, that second afternoon.

There are bonuses to having the river to ourselves, such as not having to worry about avoiding oncoming boats and not having anybody witness our sometimes comical steering. I've narrow-boated twice before, on canals, and thought I was a proficient skipper, but the twists and turns of a river present a different challenge.

So, while I might steer the front of the boat successfully around an S-bend, the back of it, from where I am piloting, invariably ends up swinging under riverside trees, meaning I have to duck to avoid getting clobbered by overhanging branches. As we discover, taking it slowly, and using reverse judiciously, helps us navigate trickier sections of the river.

On day three, the sun shines, bathing the fields in lemony light, English birds warble in the hedgerows and we leave the boat to visit Kelmscott Manor, the former country abode of radical Victorian designer William Morris. I love the artistic feel of this sprawling rural house, built in 1600, and the influential socialist craftsman Morris described being enchanted by "the loveliest haunt of ancient peace" at Kelmscott, spending long periods here in the late 19^th century.

Intriguingly, the pre-Raphaelite painter, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who had a long affair with William's wife Jane, was also a regular guest, with the Morris daughters Jenny and May, as well as their mother, often modelling for the artist.

For my teens, games of croquet in the gardens, and their first taste of a scotch egg in Kelmscott's tearoom, pass the time and with the sun now blazing, we begin our return journey towards Oxford.

Read more on Explore:

Each evening, we moor up near historic riverside taverns like the Maybush Inn at Newbridge, and the Plough at Kelmscott, and I attempt to bribe the girls to "try new food" from gourmet pub menus. This finally pays off on our final night, when we have dinner at The Folly restaurant, perched by the river in Oxford, where they dig into pea, mint and feta arancini and salt-baked cauliflower (with triple-cooked fries), while Phil and I enjoy delicious dishes like salt cod mousse and slow-cooked pork belly.

By now we are already laughing about our narrowboat trip, recalling comments like this from my eldest, as she tried engaging with the Cotswold scenery: "I can't see out of the windows because of the rain, I think there's a bay of hail [sic]."

Sometimes, escorting my mini-Kardashians along the upper river Thames, it felt like I am getting nowhere. However, looking back, it's clear that this short narrowboat adventure has created indelible holiday memories for us all.

Drifters Waterway Holidays offers narrowboat hire from 45 bases across Britain, from £590 ($1120) for short breaks (3/4 nights). We travelled from Eynsham boat base, near Oxford, to Kelmscott, return. Our narrowboat included two double beds, two singles, gas cooker, fridge, Wi-Fi modem, linen and towels. See drifters.co.uk

The writer was a guest of Drifters Waterway Holidays and Experience Oxfordshire.