Tuesday, 14 August 2018

Ricky has a new friend

For a while, we've thought it would be nice for Ricky to have another dog to run around with (and hopefully to settle down with as well...).  We're now complete, besotted, converts to sighthounds, so Jim started looking into various lurcher rescues.

And, to cut (appropriately) to the chase, here is Geoffrey.

Geoffrey is a galgo, originally rescued in Spain, and rehomed through Lozza's Lurcher Rescue in Hertfordshire.

There was a big hole in my knowledge where galgos should have been, which I have rapidly made up for - how could we not have heard of them? What I have learnt so for is this - galgos are an ancient breed of hunting dog, originally Celtic and introduced into Spain from France (hence the name, meaning that they're from Gaul). Over the centuries the British greyhound has diverged as its been bred for different purposes and kinds of racing. Looking at Geoffrey, he does have the look about him of something a Medici would have had on a lead, or an Spanish noble in a Velasquez painting.

Indeed, galgos were originally the hunting dogs of the nobility. but not so these days. Like many animals in Spain, they are not treated well, to say the least. They are used for hunting and competitive coursing, bred in vast numbers and all but the best racers abandoned - and even those chosen for competetion kept hungry, cruelly punished if they don't perform well, and abandoned or killed when their coursing career is over at two or three years old. This article from the National Geographic gives a  relatively unsensationalised and unsentimental account.

Geoffrey was very nervous at first but is already settling down. He's very gentle and placid, even a little timid, and Ricky is certainly top dog. Geoffrey isn't even interested in getting on the sofa (yet) and you can see from the state of his elbows that he's been used to lying on a concrete floor. But he does seem to feel able to relax...
He likes going for walks and walks well on the lead. He's very friendly to other dogs, and to most people; just a bit wary of men, and he doesn't like sudden noises. We're hoping that Ricky's example will help Geoffrey to become more chilled.

Galgos differ from greygounds in a number of ways (this is a bit like the Woolwich/Northwich thing). They have much greater stamina for a start, and this is reflected in a different kind and distribution of their muscles. They're a bit stockier, and their hips are higher than their shoulders, and their heads proportionately a bit smaller looking than a greyhound's, giving them that old fashioned painting look. And they have very long thin tails.

Ricky is, at our best estimate, a 'racing whippet' - half whippet, half greyhound. Geoffrey is considerably bigger than him, although still not as big, I don't think, as a big greyhound. We'll have to wait until he meets Buzz to check that out.

Early days yet, but Geoffrey is already starting to feel like part of the family - let's hope he feels that way too.

Friday, 10 August 2018

Harland and Wolff

Apologies for the lack of a witty title. Diamond Geezer set me off this morning. He's visiting points across London, travelling from east to west, along the line of latitude 51.5 degrees north. This is the line of latitude that Greenwich is on, and he doesn't see why its line of longitude (albeit that that's zero) should get all the attention.

Now, I've always had trouble pinning down just where the Woolwich shipyard was, but I reckoned it must be somewhere roughly near that line. And it was while searching online for its co-ordinates (unsuccessfully) I came across a website I hadn't previously seen, dedicated to Harland and Wolff.

It's a bit thin on the Woolwich operation, which does in the scheme of things seem to have been rather small beer - from what I can tell, although they did refurbishments, no massive ships were built here, but largely barges, lighters and of course narrow boats.  The yard was in operation from 1924 - 1972. One interesting suggestion that the site makes is that there are now probably more Harland and Wolff built boats on the English canal system than anywhere else.

The site isn't fantastically written, and its coverage of narrow boats is quite superficial, but the few pictures make it well worth a look. There is a list of boats (although it doesn't distinguish between motors and butties) but the dates on it (assuming they are delivery dates) don't tie up with those provided by Faulkner - for example, it shows Chertsey's birthday as 25th February 1937, whereas I've previously had it as 29th January.

Now, if I could just find those co-ordinates, I could finally track the place down and make a pilgrimage...

Monday, 6 August 2018

And then off to the seaside

This is a bit of a post for Starcross Jim. It has rail routes, refunds, and Herefordshire.

A few weeks ago I agreed to go to Swansea to act an an 'external expert' for the validation of a new Foundation Year. Then as the time got nearer, and I contemplated the five hour train journey and hotel stay, I wished I hadn't.

But then last week I went, and I was glad I did.

I spent most of the journey there immersed in the validation paperwork, coming up with what turned out to be sensible questions about it, and realised that I really am, well, a bit of an expert on the programme design and quality assurance side of Foundation Years (and learning more all the time).

And I discovered something - and discovered something about the National Rail website in the process. I discovered that I didn't have to go via Brimingham and/or Bristol. I discovered that I could go via Stockport. Not only does this avoid New Street station (a boon if ever there was one) but it's cheaper. When I was up and down to my mother's place in Newport, the National Rail website never told me that this route existed, even though the train stops at Newport. It only offered the trains that terminated at Cardiff (where my via Stockport train also stopped).
I've just checked, and it still doesn't show the Milford Haven train that I caught. OK, it takes a bit longer, meandering through Shropshire and Herefordshire, but as I say it's cheaper, and you don't have to worry about whether the races are on at Cheltenham (I've somehow managed to go that way on Gold Cup day twice. Horrendous).

So I had a pleasant journey there and discovered that the University had booked me into a hotel in Mumbles. I used to hate staying in hotels - the strangeness of it - but a very strange thing completely changed my feelings about it. It was Bill Bryson, in one of his travel books, writing that whenever he arrived in a hotel, the first thing he did was run a bath and empty all the individual bottles/sachets etc into it, on the basis that they're all the same. And although I didn't do that (there wasn't a bath, for a start, but I brought the little bottles home), that thought has completely changed the way I view staying in a hotel.

Anyway it was a nice room (although the shower was very feeble - say what you like about south west (or more west now) Sheffield, but, excellent water pressure - and before dinner I went for a brisk stroll along the prom one way, and after dinner I went the other. In between I had an excellent meal and even a glass of wine, which I have yet to learn whether Swansea will pay for.

The next day, after an excellent breakfast (I have also solved the problem of what to do with a hotel buffet breakfast - I make myself a toast bacon sandwich) I was whisked away by taxi to the University - to a building that was surprisingly run down compared to the majority of places I've been to lately in England which are seemingly always in the throes of building and refurbishment. Anyway, I quite liked the grubby paint and worn lino. I then met a splendid young chap called Phil, who is 'passionate about curriculum and assessment design' so we were bound to get on. We bonded over the unsung virtues of QA processes. Then I got to ask my intelligent questions, we had a coffee and a chat about the class politics of Foundation Years, and then it was another cab to the station and a smooth journey back, marred only by the fact that I didn't have a book and my iPad battery had run out.

And talking of trains - as we were - I received a full refund last week from North Western Trains (or whatever the shoddily rebadged London Midland fleet are now called. What happened? I loved London Midland) for my 65 minute delayed train from Rugby to Sheffield via Tamworth. However, they couldn't do it entirely gracefully - I got a shirty email saying that they would grudgingly pay out this time despite the fact that I hadn't defaced my ticket in the photo of it that I sent them. What do they think I'm going to do with a ticket that's only valid on the day of issue anyway? But maybe I shouldn't moan too much as I've just noticed that they've refunded the cost of the entire return ticket even though I made the return journey without a hitch. Or at least they say they have - I haven't checked the bank statement yet.

Friday, 3 August 2018

Both ends but not the middle

There are plenty of canals where I've been to one end but not the other. There are some I haven't been to at all. There are a lot where I've been to both ends and all points between. There may even be one where I've been in the middle but not to either end (although I can't think of one off hand).

But I don't think there's another one where I've seen both ends but not the middle. To be fair, in this case the middle doesn't exist.

Having been moored on one end of the Cromford Canal, at Langley Mill, at the end of May, last week I visited the other end at - surprise! - Cromford, this being just a twenty minute stroll away from our awayday destination of Matlock Bath.

I can report that it is indeed a canal.
And a pretty one to boot.
Sadly I didn't get to see much of it as we had to rish back for our lunch dinner, having spent rather too long at Cromford's other major attraction.
This was Cromford Mill, immortalised in O Level history as the home of Richard Arkwright's water frame - in the late eighteenth century a significant advance in spinning technology which ushered in the age of the large scale factory... but now the home of a range of artisan and antiques shops which captured my attention now just as Hargreaves, Arkwright and Kay did in my schooldays.

And here I bought my own little piece of history
in readiness for when I actually get a nice, wooden, front door, as well as a really nice worn old horse brass for the boat.

Sunday, 29 July 2018

Oh I do like to be beside the... riverside

Well, our day trip destination seemed to get both my readers guessing (not Adrian, because he already knew - but I'm sure would have got it if we hadn't already discussed it) - but (ex) Stacross Jim got it in one - we were in Matlock Bath, and what a splendid place it was. Like Stourport, it's a riverside town (or possibly even village) so far from the sea that it became the next best thing for the local populace, and  has taken on some of the attributes and atmosphere of the real thing. 

It was such a gorgeous sunny day that I didn't visit the aquarium (with the town's last remaining petrifying well, 'a source of curiosity and amazement'),
or the lead mining museum (whose website doesn't appear to be working), or any of the many amusement arcades tastefully lining the main parade.

But I did have an ice cream in the 'secret garden' behind Hall's shop,
purchased for one and all in a tradition established in Cleethorpes in 2015, by the Boss, and pie and chips in a very traditional seaside style pie and fish restaurant - you could tell we weren't very far from home though, because there was Hendo's on the table, which was good, because thanks to Adrian and Linda, I do like it on my mushy peas. And after lunch five of us, including the Boss, wnet out on a rowing boat, expertly propelled by our chief administrator, who honed his skills kayaking on the Bridgewater Canal.
We rounded off an all too short day with a stroll back along the Lovers Walk.

In the morning, a colleague and I made a detour to somewhere else entirely to get a canal and tot-shopping fix.

Thursday, 26 July 2018

Like Stourport, but even better

No one else understood what I meant, but that was my verdict on this year's works outing destination. Previously we've been to Cleethorpes (twice) and Saltaire, but this beat them both (although Saltaire was good).

We had ice cream in a splendidly opulent ice cream shop, a slap up fish lunch dinner, went boating on the river, walked along the canal, and took in some industrial heritage and antique purchasing (although we did have to stroll into the next town for those). There were plenty of indoor attractions that we might have taken in if the weather hadn't been so brilliant, and outdoor ones that we might have done had we not been too stingy.

A glorious, weird and wonderful place, and only an hour in the charabanc (hardly time to open a second bottle of  brown ale).

I'd go there again.
Like Stourport, only better. What do you think?

Wednesday, 25 July 2018

What's in a name?

I like a bit of nominative determinism.
One of the best ever examples of the name being suited to the job was that of  Lee King, who was the BW employee responsible for the maintenance of locks on the GU.

But while we're on the subject of bins, this one's quite good.

Tuesday, 24 July 2018

Fifty percent extra, free

This is another post for my Sheffield reader.

I got a leaflet through the door yesterday:

Every household in Sheffield is getting a new bin. A third one. That's a fifty percent increase in binnage across the city. Tens if not hundreds of thousands more bins in Sheffield's front gardens, alleyways, passageways and gennels, and on the pavements.

The new bin is for recycling tins, glass and plastic, as this illustration helpfully shows:

Actually, I love the illustrations. If you look at it through a jeweller's eyeglass (and why wouldn't you?) the bottles and tins are all labelled - 'milk', 'wine', 'baked beans', 'pop' and the irresistible can of 'drink'.

This is not to get us to recycle more (in fact, it might even lead to recycling less). I can't see it saving money (those bins can't be cheap). But it will make things considerably easier for the waste contractors, Veolia.

Currently we can recycle all those things (indeed, Sheffield City Council seem far less fussy than Lewes District, who would leave your whole boxful behind if it had a yogurt pot - EVEN AN EXPLICITLY RECYCLABLE POLYPROPYLENE ONE - in it. Currently we have a blue bin and a blue box. Once a fortnight we put them both out, with bottles etc in one, and paper etc in the other. Which is which is up to the householder, depending on what they create more of. I actually don't use my box at all - I just alternate what I put out, as I don't even half fill a bin in a fortnight.

Now, the boxes are a bit of a pain, it's true. Stuff blows/falls out of them, or gets soaked. They have - or had - elasticated covers, but these are all falling apart now and blowing about like something you wouldn't want to get on your prop. In case you were wondering what to do with the soon to be redundant box, the council have thoughtfully stepped in with the answer:

Overall, then, greater recycling capacity, hooray. But as a Green friend pointed out, this could actually mean less recycling. Each recycling bin will now be emptied every 28 days (with refuse collection continuing fortnightly as now, inbetween) - that's four weeks between collections of paper, and four weeks between collections of bottles and cans. Say you threw out very little paper, but lots of bottles and cans, you might have had more than half a bin of bottles and cans every fortnight; maybe even a full one. And your box of paper would have been collected every fortnight as well. So when your brown bin is full in three weeks and there's a week to go before it's collected, where are the rest of the the bottles and cans going to go? Into the black dustbin, of course. Ditto with paper and card. Not that Veolia will mind - they've an incinerator to keep going after all.

Meanwhile I now have to find room for a third bin that I don't need and will never fill.

Tuesday, 17 July 2018

Archaeology of a road

This is what my road looked like a couple of months ago:

This is what it looked like as they prepared it for resurfacing:



This is what it looks like now:

At least they've left the pavement alone:

One of the (very many) conditions of the original lease on the house in 1899 was that the lessee, at his own expense, would 'make and complete ... a good flagged footpath ... of the width of eight feet.'

Here's an interesting regional (or is it a class) observation.

The steps to the front door:

The steps to the back door:

Friday, 13 July 2018

Where's my windlass?

Introducing Aurora Rose (already known as Rory), who I just know is going to be a boater - look at that right arm.

Congratulations to Sebastian and Izzi. What else can I say?

Sunday, 8 July 2018

The best thing about gender-neutral toilets

I've just spent two days at the Foundation Year Network Annual Conference - an excellent opportunity to share ideas and experiences within our misunderstood little corner of HE, and to be inspired by what some people are doing.

The conference was hosted by the University of Nottingham, whose Students' Union building has the most fantastic gender neutral - or indeed any variety of - toilets I've yet encountered. A long corridor of self-contained, private, spacious rooms each with their own toilet, washbasin and hand-dryer. One day all public toilets will be like this (I wish).

The building we were in had a similar set-up, but on a smaller scale. As I approached I saw two blokes standing about in the vague vicinity. 'Is this a queue?' I asked. 'Yes' they said. And in my head I smiled a big smile and thought 'welcome to my world.'

Wednesday, 27 June 2018

Where's my widget?

Bastard Blogger...


Hi everyone,

To make room for some exciting updates coming soon to Blogger, we’re simplifying the platform to enhance the blogging experience for all of our users.

Updates include:
- Changes to features: G+ widget integrations, OpenID, and Localization & Blogspot ccTLDS.
- Retiring features: Third Party Gadgets, Next Blog, Polls Widget, and Textcube.
- Introducing new features: HTTPS for Custom Domains, Multilogin, Spanner, Google Takeout, and Video Management.

... have disappeared my 'Daisypath' 'ticker'. How will I keep track of how long I've owned Chertsey now? (Yes, I actually noticed it was gone when I went to check it for just that reason.)

But hey, it's all for a better blogging experience, so that's ok then.

PS. Eight years, nine months, one week and five days.

Tuesday, 26 June 2018

Blazing Braunston

So, it's all over for another year, bar actually taking the boat away.

In some ways, this year's Braunston might have been a bit underwhelming - public attendance was certainly down considerable, following the doubling of the parking charge to £20. A couple of long-established traders have decided to call it a day - the fabulous brass stall where I got Chertsey's copper urn being one I knew about; the absence of the hippy clothes stall next to the toilets came as a surprise (fortunately I have sufficient supplies of patchwork trousers for now. Just.)

I don't know the final number of boats, but it felt very quiet and low-key on the Friday. Quite a few familiar faces weren't there - but then some new ones were - Gort, Daphne, Pintail, Seaford, being just a few I can think of off the top of my head.

But we had a fabulous time. Many aspects were excellent - David Daines's commentary on the parades was extremely knowledgeable and very professional (although we still weren't tempted to parade - the heavy handed marshalling has somewhat spoiled it - and does nothing to reduce the chaos - if anything it exacerbated it. Some people were complaining at a two and a half hour parade - should have been there in 2010, I say.). The beer tent music just might have been a bit less over-amplified (although we have long learnt our lesson and sat a long way away). The beer tent and surrounding seemed less crowded than in previous years and I thought that people might have made good on their threats to go to the pub instead. They still ran out of beer by Sunday evening though, so either they planned well for reduced numbers, or there were more people than it looked.

Our mooring by Butchers Bridge - right by the bridge, towards the marina main entrance - was lovely. It was the last available bankside space when Jim moved the boat last Tuesday - another reason for staying put. It was nice and shady, which was great for Jim and Ricky, but a bit frustrating for me, seeing the sun shining down on all the other boats but having to wait until about four o'clock before it got to me. The weather was fantastic, absolutely amazing. We had ice creams and a beanburger, Bass and cheesy chips. We had an impromptu Friday night towpath party (the very best sort) with Sarah and Andy on Enceladus (and the musical accompaniment of 78s of course), Pete of Renfrew and his old friend Mike, and Alan and Angie on Purton, with beer, G&T (thanks Angie!), nibbles and then, thanks to Jim, fish and chips from the village. When Pete Harrison stopped by for a chat, my weekend was complete - and it was only Friday night.

Other visitors included Bones (with Boots); Vicky and Craig whom we haven't seen for ages, but just happened to be on a hireboat holiday that week, the Moomins, Sarah from Little Venice and probably someone really important that I've forgotten.

This is how I described the weekend to my workmates: 'Basically a lot of people bring their old boats to a village in Northamptonshire. We spend the first day polishing our brass and dressing the boats up, then we spend the following days buying more brass, comparing the brass things we've bought, counting each other's rivets and sniffing each other's engines, drinking beer and complaining that the music in the beer tent is too loud. Braver souls parade their boats round while the rest of us catch up with friends and acquaintances (and drink beer).' Does that about sum it up?
Hard work, this socialising

This was the 13th Braunston in a row that I've attended - and I discovered with surprise when I read the programme, that's thirteen out of just sixteen that have been held in total.

Tuesday, 12 June 2018

Would you like a leaflet?


I've just printed another little batch of  Chertsey information sheets. These started out as my A3 display 'boards' but I thought it would be nice to have something people could take away. It's also useful for quickly giving people information or contact details - or when asking for photos. And as it's been a while since I've posted any information about Chertsey and her history, I thought it wouldn't go amiss. The original has a photo, but you can just substitute the one from the blog masthead.

CHERTSEY (GUCCCo. 130)

HISTORY

Chertsey was built for the Grand Union Canal Carrying Company (GUCCCo) by Harland and Wolff at their North Woolwich shipyard, and delivered in January 1937 with the fleet number 130. This was part of the last big expansion of the Grand Union fleet, eighty-six pairs of boats, built between 1936-8, at Woolwich (motors and butties), Northwich (motors) and Rickmansworth (butties), with a deeper (4'9”) hold than their predecessors, and Chertsey is therefore a Large Woolwich motor boat. All the large motor boats were built of riveted steel (although Woolwiches originally had wooden cabins) and all 86 are still extant in some form. It is likely that the names for these boats were more or less randomly selected from a railway gazetteer, and they are sometimes referred to today as 'Town Class' boats.

Chertsey would have carried a variety of loads for GUCCCo, between London and Birmingham, the East Midlands, and also to Northampton and beyond onto the River Nene.  These would include coal from the Midlands to London, and imported raw materials such as timber, metals and grain which could be loaded directly from ships in the Regents Canal Dock (now Limehouse Basin). When waterways transport was nationalised in 1948 Chertsey passed into the British Waterways South Eastern Fleet, and continued carrying into the early 1960s.

Chertsey was sold into private ownership in 1962, and for a while was registered as a houseboat, although there is no evidence that she was ever converted. During this period, she attended a number of rallies, and apparently had an organ in the hold, which was played at gatherings. We would particularly like to fill in details of what Chertsey was doing 1962-69.

In 1969, Chertsey was purchased by Richard Barnett, who owned the boat until his death in 2009. Under his ownership, Chertsey undertook some short term carrying contracts, including being one of the last boats to bring coal (from Gopsall on the Ashby Canal) to John Dickinson's paper mill at Croxley on the Grand Union, in August 1970. From the 1980s however, Chertsey was more or less abandoned at Valencia Wharf, Oldbury, although Richard Barnett was never willing to sell her.

Chertsey's engine is an air cooled Petter PD2 as fitted by British Waterways in 1960 to replace the original raw water cooled National DM2. One battery charged through a dynamo (rather than a modern alternator) powers the electric start, and lighting in the back cabin. The cabin was rebuilt in the late 1970s in solid oak (reclaimed library shelves) on the original frames, and later skinned in steel by Les Allen. The engine room is original as far as we know, and its roof shows the scars of previous exhausts and the G.U. toilet vent.

CURRENT OWNERSHIP
 
Since purchasing Chertsey in 2009, the following works have been undertaken to restore and improve the boat:

·        Steelwork repairs to the hull (particularly the knees, chine angle and counter) and overplating to the back end/engine room baseplate by Keith Ball
·        New oak gunnels, front cants, handrails, other woodwork, top planks and cloths by Pete Boyce.
·        Paintwork by Martin O’Callaghan and signwriting by Dave Moore

Chertsey's unusual livery represents the brief transitional period between British Waterways taking ownership of the Grand Union fleet, and the development of their own distinctive yellow and blue colour scheme a year or so later.

Chertsey has now retired as a working boat, and is used purely for pleasure. The hold is not converted with any permanent structure, but camping arrangements under the cloths provide plenty of flexible space for summer boating, which has evolved over time. Most recently we have built a platform in the cratch to provide additional sleeping/storage space and easy access to the fore end, and begun ballasting with concrete blocks rather than coal.

PHOTOS

I have a number of photographs of Chertsey at various stages of her history which can’t be publicly displayed for copyright or other reasons – please ask if you would like to see the album. And if you have taken any nice or interesting photos of Chertsey – either recently or in the past – it would be greatly appreciated if you could share them by emailing to  
[my email address] – please also get in touch if you would like to know more about Chertsey in particular or historic narrow boats more generally.
You can also follow my blog at www.chertsey130.blogspot.co.uk

Friday, 8 June 2018

Gone for a... oh, has that one been done?

Revisiting day 2 of the trip, which was the Sunday. I had to go back into work on the Monday, so we stopped as planned on the Shobnall Fields mooring in Burton. Strangely, we'd never stopped there overnight before, but it was ever so nice, and a short walk to the station.
There's no denying that despite still being a centre of the brewing industry, Burton has the run down air of a post-industrial town. Nowhere have I been that felt more like a company town. Whichever way you turned, it seemed you could see the brewery dominating the horizon. In the past I'm sure you would have smelt it as well, but perhaps the modern plant does away with that.

On the way back from the station on Monday evening I spotted a poignant ghost sign:

Wednesday, 6 June 2018

Almost feels like home

Day 10: Foxton bottom to Watford top
Day 11: Watford top to Braunston

On Monday we were up early and waiting at the bottom of the Foxton locks at five to eight. As it turned out, there was no competition - there's been surprisingly little traffic over all this trip - but I suppose it's early in the season yet. We didn't start up the locks until 8:30, but were finished in the advertised 45 minutes and celebrated with an ice cream (me) and a bacon cob (Jim/Ricky) at the top. Sadly there is no photographic evidence of me tying up the boat with one hand whilst holding a large and precarious cornet in the other, but I assure you, my talents multiply by the day. It was a much cooler, overcast day, and we sailed serenely through the green green world to tie up at the top of Watford locks just after five.
Watford has an amazing book swap. I took about ten books over, and came back with as many, that I really wanted to read (rather than 'that'll do if I'm desperate'). After the lock keeper had gone for the night we pretended that their little cottage and garden was our very own, although Ricky had to be confined to the boat to stop him digging up their lawn.

In another 45 minutes (starting at 8:35) we were down Watford and on the last leg of the journey to Braunston. I was pleased to note that we beat CanalPlan's estimate - on default settings - by eleven minutes. We tied up by the ladder bridge, but were a bit perturbed that the mooring suspension for the show only starts a week in advance - I'd expected a fortnight, so thought we'd get away with plotting up there.

Pete came to the rescue though (again) and offered us the use of Renfrew's mooring, while he prepared Renfrew for the show. The offer was made over dinner at the Boat House - definitely my second choice Braunston pub, but the Nelson, it transpires, don't do food on Monday OR Tuesday :-(
The trouble with the Boat House is that it's not dog-friendly (you wouldn't think it would be hard, a place that size) so we had to sit outside. Despite the afternoon having warmed up, we anticipated the evening becoming chilly again, so Jim brought two jackets, which he put down on the bench beside him, and we brought Ricky's jumper (that he'd been wearing all morning) as well as his fleecy bed. Ricky decided that the bed alone wasn't wholly to his satisfaction, and that he could do better for himself:
Jim was so engrossed in conversation he didn't notice his garments being purloined and repurposed.

On the way to the Boat House last night, we met Kevin and Vicky, former Star- and then Harry- Man and Woman, who have a new boat. So this morning, after moving Chertsey down to the turn we went and had a cup of tea with them, before finally setting off in the car to Alvecote.

And so ended a fairly uneventfula nd very enjoyable holiday. The weather has been brilliant throughout, wioth lots of sun, and only the occasional rain - and never while we were boating. The do at Langley Mill was great; I actually enjoyed the Soar (and of course the Erewash, but that's not so newsworthy) and we had a lovely sociable time - all the better for boing unplanned - on arrival in Braunston too.

Back to work for me now, until the weekend of the show.

Sunday, 3 June 2018

Pressing on

Day 8: Sileby Mill to Bush Lock
Day 9: Bush Lock to Foxton

Well, it's still been nice, but a fairly heavy couple of days. Two of the pounds today - shallow at the best of times - were down as much as eighteen inches. I'd done really well, creeping along the middle, until I got firmly stuck just short of Pyewell lock, trying to go in on the right to let a hire boat join us. In the end they had to help get us off, and went up before us.

Today has been wonderfully hot and sunny, almost since we set off at 7:30. When I washed my hair with the solar shower at about five, it was almost too hot.

But we pressed on, and made it to Foxton tonight as planned, so hopefully two more, slightly shorter, days should see us to Braunston.

And talking of hot water.... we're currently in the Foxton Locks (because we needed CHIPS! And very nice they were too) and like many establishments, there's a sign in the ladies saying 'caution: very hot water'. But this time they really mean it. The water coming out of the taps is scalding; you could not wash your hands in it. Which means they might as well not have it. Now, what I wondered is, rather than going down the cash and carry and buying 'caution: very hot water' notices, why don't they just turn the boiler down so that their customers can wash their hands in suitable hot water. Just a thought. Also, £4.10 a pint. Only place I've paid more than that is London. Or possibly Brighton. But - especially considering how busy they were - the food wasn't bad at all.





Friday, 1 June 2018

Hold the front page: enjoying the Soar!

Day 6: Langley Mill to Sheetstores
Day 7: Sheetstores to Sileby Mill

Today I had a nice day on the Soar. I did not get swept away by the current, not stuck on a bridge pier. We haven't got to Leicester yet. It has actually been rather lovely, and I have had a good upper body resistance workout (a.k.a. river steering) to boot. I'm getting a taste for shorter days now and was itching to tie up by four o'clock (we didn't leave until 8:40 this morning though) so ended up on the lock moorings at Sileby Mill which is lovely. There is a weir (over which water is rushing quite impressively), which is my favourite sound for getting to sleep to. Last night we were between two railway bridges, which was OK - I don't mind trains - and would have been very interesting I'm sure to anyone with a train passion. A weir is better though. Today has been yet another which started overcast but became sunny at lunchtime and really hot later - enlivened this evening by a sudden and very heavy downpour which occurred, of course, while Jim was taking Ricky for a little walk. On the whole so far the weather has been really great. I'll post retrospectively in more detail with pictures when I get back.