It's my first time on a cruise since the last time I hijacked mum's blog (moving NB Shilling) and the first time that IzzI has set foot on a boat. I'm getting back into the swing of things and she's taken to steering both motorboat and butty like the mandarin duck we spotted earlier takes to water.
Hang on! Did I say 'butty'? Oh yes! Those wandering the towpath between the mooring and the Anchor (the pub that Willow has set aside for a special treat for his staff, and that they've been waiting to visit for some time now) were treated to seeing Bakewell on cross straps. The butty tiller succumbed to an old injury and snapped in half but did not hamper proceedings. Indeed the shortened pole meant that Jim and Bill, who'd boarded the moving vessel, were able to have a chat without the danger of being smacked in the face. Nevertheless, handyman that Jim is, I doubt it will stay in two pieces for long.
We're moored up for the eve now, winding and heading home tomorrow. Dinner's about to be served so I will leave those of you kind enough to read these ramblings to your evening and maybe write to you again soon.
I would post a piccy of Iz steering like a natural, but I'm not so sure she'd appreciate it.