An eloquent account, here, of the fatally corrupting influence of dabbling in old boats.
It might seem like a harmless day out, sunshine, beer, morris dancers, and ooh, a lovely backdrop of old boats. That's how we lure you in. Once you've taken that first whiff of old engine; that glimpse of fore end, before you know it the heady atmosphere has got you and you'll never be the same.
But like some other addictions, as long as you can fund it, you can continue to live a relatively normal life. Sometimes you can even put on clean clothes and go to work, and for brief periods string together semi-coherent sentences that aren't about original GU vs. north-western deckboards, hot rivetting or sources of canvas fire hose. For a while, anyway.
Ebikes on the towpath?
1 day ago