... feminist, atheist, autistic academic and historic narrowboater ...
Likes snooker, beer, tea, rivets and solitude, and is strangely fascinated by the cinema organ.
And there might be something about railways.

Monday 12 March 2012

Vale, Valerie

This morning as I made my way to the village I noticed Valerie tied up on the towpath. I'd sort of registered that Les and Jaq were in the general vicinity and would have loved a chat, but the curtains were all drawn so I passed on by. On the way back, I thought, especially after a very long queue at the post office, they are bound to be about. But no, it seems I caught them on a bad day, because all was still. I would have left a note, but I didn't have a pen. Or any paper. So I did the next best thing and rushed back to leave a comment on their blog. I was pretty confident they'd be passing us anyway, given that that was the direction in which they were facing, and sure enough, only an hour or so later they did.

I waved frantically and we said a quick hello, and they were gone. But a few hours later there they were on the towpath, having picked up the message and walked back from Wheaton Aston to visit. More cups of tea and interesting conversation followed, and we have met yet more new boating friends. What I forgot to mention was that Valerie is my mother's name, and my middle name.

1 comment:


    Many thanks for the cups of tea and the tour of Bakewell. We never did get on Chertsey owing to the good conversation we were having.