It doesn't feel like a boat. Mainly because it doesn't smell like a boat; i.e. it doesn't smell of diesel.
We arrived at lunchtime, and although sadly the last owner, marine engineer Ed Boden, was too overwhelmed with work to come and hand over in person, by a wonderful chance, another, earlier, owner turned up - Rex Wain, who had come to take Bakewell's wooden next door neighbour here at Stockton, Ian, back to Brinklow for some repairs, so we spent ages chatting with him. They bought Bakewell from Union Canal Carriers at the end of its camping boat career, and eventually sold it on to another well known owner, Euan Corrie. It's interesting to have a boat that has had more than one owner over the past forty years.
We are very pleased and impressed so far. The firstbthing we did was find the gas - two 13kg bottles - and have a cup of tea. Then I cleaned up the kitchen - no years of grime either, just a few months' worth of spiders and got everything put away in the numerous cupboards. The only downside is that the Paloma has sprung a leak - from a very similar experience on Andante I diagnose frost damage - so we can't switch the water pump on without water running put of the bottom of it. Never mind, running water is a luxury anyway, and Ed tells me he has a spare Paloma which we can either fit or cannibalise for the damaged part.
We have however lit the Squirrel, and heat is not only emanating from it, but coursing around the boat (and the calorifier) in 28mm copper pipe. Lovely.
Nick has been held up by a fuel pipe problem and has stopped at the top of the locks (we are at the bottom) and we have promised to be up there with our windlasses at some ungodly hour of the morning, oh, ok, half past six.