One week later

View from my window

My idea for a Sunday feature... The view from my window wherever I am. Mostly of course it will be this one, tracking the changing seasons and maybe, if it goes on for long enough, the human environment too. Perhaps the Hallam Tower Hotel barely visible dirty white against the grey sky on the right, will disappear, or (perhaps less likely) become luxury flats. Or maybe the hotel across the road will fetch something like its asking price of £1.2 million and turn into falts, instead of sitting ghostlike as it does now, with the owners occupying just a few rooms on the ground floor.



And here is the Hallam Tower in its days of hope and glory, completed in time for the 1966 World Cup qualifiers that were held in Sheffield... Closed in 2004 and all set to become luxury flats, until (my local correspondent informs me) the discovery of asbestos (a surprise in a building of the mid sixties?) rendered insufficiently profitable. The building languished ever since, widely considered an eyesore (and with some justice; as stunning as the building could be, it will always stand in stark conflict to its environment) and few tears, it seems, would be shed were it to be demolished. Maybe next week it won't be raining and you'll be able to see it better.

Location:S10

What we missed

Having gone to Gravesend on HS1 from St Pancras, we returned on the normal train to Charing Cross, and then caught the Clipper down to Tower Pier, arriving at half past ten, about two minutes after Waverley, so we able to have a good look at what we missed out on.

Adventure aborted

... owing to high winds at Gravesend. :-)
Will explain all tomorrow... Unless you can guess in the meantime. Should have gone to Southend....

Point of departure

Gravesend....

First boat trip

First port of call...

On my way...

Adventure

I'm off on a bit of an adventure today, weather permitting. I'm going to try and post updates as I go.

The really exciting bit isn't due to happen until this evening and involves a historic boat - but not a narrow one.

In the meantime I might get to go on another historic boat, which is narrow, and which I've never been on before although thousands have, and maybe even on a fast boat too, or perhaps a fast train instead....

Is UHT milk getting nicer?

Or are my tastebuds deteriorating?

I used to detest the stuff; the smell made me heave; it absolutely ruined a cup of tea with its cooked milk taste. I refused to countenance it. But now I find I don't mind it at all; indeed, I can scarcely tell the difference. We use long life milk all the time now on Chertsey; it's so much easier to stock up on 500ml cartons before we leave  than to constantly wonder where we are going to get the next pint from, and if it will still be useable in the morning. The half litre packs are a handy size which we can get through in a day, so rarely have to throw any away even without a fridge.

It seems to me unlikely that the fundamental processing of UHT milk has altered - it must still depend on heating it to a high temperature and therefore cooking it. But maybe there is a difference in the make up of the milk that is treated? Perhaps it contains less of the proteins or sugars that are affected by the heat? I've always thought that the effect was less noticeable with skimmed than whole milk, but I am comparing like with like (in the form of semi-skimmed) here.

If it's not the milk itself, then that only leaves my tastebuds. I would be prepared to believe that they were getting old and losing their sophisticated discrimination, if not for the fact that Sebastian, who similarly used to find long life milk revolting, has noticed the same phenomenon.

Travelling to the black country museum (a blog from Baz)

Good evening!

I'm currently sitting on the back end of Chertsey with my wonderful girlfriend IzzI sorrounded by working boats and looking at a rather impressive chimney. We, IzzI; mum; Jim; and me, are here for the Black Country Museum boat gathering. We have our costumes all ready for tomorrow and mum is cooking us lying around curry (curry made from what whatever's lying around... Chick pea korma with broccoli and cous cous) and I thought i would take you through our journey so far.

After a night of mod cons (read: running water) on Bakewell we set off early with the promise of bacon rolls for breakfast. Huzzah. We made good time on our way to the Wolverhampton 21 and happily munched on our rolls* and it wasn't long before we came across the first set of paddles. With Jim cycling on ahead to empty the locks and mum at the tiller IzzI and I worked the paddles and we completed the flight in two hours and six minutes. That was over the 1:45 that mum was aiming for but with two paddles out of comission, 1 paddle mishap (nobody injured!) and my refusal to run between gates, I don't think that's too terrible.

After the 21 I steered the rest of the way to the museum. I did bang the boat twice (sorry mum) but it weighs a few tons and is made of steel so I don't think I damaged it. I did do a couple of good turns and backed into the museum to make up for it. I'm a little bit proud. A bit of exploring, and a bit of a nap later, and I started this blog.

I'm not entirely sure what's going on tomorrow but I have my neckerchief ready.

Sleep well.

S.

*
Recipe for boat bacon rolls. Feeds 4.

You will need:
1 frying pan
1 enamel tray
1 Beatrice stove
4 buttered rolls
14(?) bacon rashers
1 boat

1. Forget the frying pan
2. Start the boats engine and begin travelling
3. Balance enamel tray on Beatrice stove
4. Cook bacon on enamel tray
5. Allow engine to rattle tray off stove and deposit bacon under the floor
6. Find 13 rashers of bacon
7. Assume thats how many rashers you started with
8. Brush off the dirt
9. Cook bacon a bit more
10. Place on buttered rolls
11. Eat.

Competitive streak

The shortlist has just been announced for the National Historic Ships photo competition. There are some fabulous photos as always (here) but I'm a little disappointed that my shot of Walton's launch hasn't made the cut in the 'traditional maritime skills in action' category, particularly as three of the five photos that have done feature caulking, rather than reflecting a variety of traditional techniques like the rather dramatic and rare art of side slipping.

That house in Berkhamsted...

The subject of Halfies latest 'mystery location' reminds me. Our journey back from Watford began, in high hopes of getting back to Stretton within the week, with thirty one locks on what may well have been the hottest day of the year.

Inspiration struck as we ascended in Rising Sun lock, and I grabbed my tankard from its hook behind the stove, some cash from the ticket drawer, and clambered out to take my place at the bar. By the time the top gate was open I was back at the tiller and a fair way down a very welcome pint.

(And yes, I did offer to get Jim one, but he's very abstemious when on duty. I did keep him well watered.)

Naughty

Once upon a time there was a new poster on CanalWorld. Her name was Phylis and she quickly became notorious for being opinionated, provocative and just generally annoying. Her biggest crime of course was to have a big shiny yogurt pot for a boat and not to be ashamed of it.

But I found that over the years, Phylis grew on me. Without wanting to sound patronising, she matured and mellowed - and I was won over by her enthusiasm and love for a boat that couldn't be more different from my passion. I like to think also that when Naughty-Cal encountered Chertsey patiently awaiting a spare part at Torksey, a mutual understanding and respect began to be forged. What's more, Rachel (for she is Phylis no more) writes a damn good blog. So I have at long last added it to the blogroll - great recipes and an insight into a very different kind of boating.

Cover girl

Oh dear. When I agreed to don quasi-historical fancy dress for the Erewash rally, I wasn't expecting to end up on the front cover of the HNBC magazine...

Roll on...

I've added two more blogs to the blogroll - I think both of these interesting writers dropped off accidentally when they changed boats, and I was reminded by meeting Nev, ex-Waterlily and now on Percy, last week, and by passing Star - formerly owned by Kevin and Vicky who have been restoring Harry for the past couple of years - at Streethay. Seeing that Harry wasn't there, I thought, ooh, they must have finished it and gone off boating... I wonder if they have a new blog. So I looked around and found it, and it's very good.

Transformation

I've just taken some really wonky pictures of Chertsey's transformed hold (well, the part I've done so far) before we put the topcloths on and it goes all dark in there.

Chertsey the glamping boat

OED Online definition of 'glamping':
'a form of camping involving accommodation and facilities more luxurious than those associated with traditional camping'

That'll be us then! Since arriving back at Stretton we have been hard at work transforming Chertsey into what I now realise is Britain's first glamping narrow boat. Yesterday I took off all the cloths and Jim replaced the deckboard and hefted the mast into place, and the top planks and stands.



More photos tomorrow, as I didn't take any today. (By the way, recent photos have been taken on the proper camera and though they still come out tiny in Blogpress, will display properly if you click on them. Try it with yesterday's)

So now we have room to stand up. First purchase today was a pair of curtains from the Katherine House Hospice shop in Cannock - exactlybthe size I was looking for, fabulous quality, with a red and cream stripe and deep red linings. These have been hung with safety pins just behind the mast, separating off the forewardmost room of the hold as a bedroom for Baz 'n' Iz when they accompany us to the Black Country Museum at the end of September. It was only after the curtains were hung and I looked at them from the back end that I realised it looks for all the world like a Punch and Judy booth.

The next section ('back of the mast') will eventually house a bathroom of sorts, but is currently also home to Jim's tent. The section between the two stands will be the kitchen/living area, and today I cleared everything out of it so that Jim could paint the floor - in red oxide coloured floor paint, of course. Here we will have the kitchen table, cupboard, chairs, and a box/ bench (to house all the big spanners and other emergency equipment) which I have just agreed to purchase ex-Hampstead.

The back end will continue to be planked over, with fresh water tanks and coal storage underneath. This last section will only be clothed up when we leave the boat for any length of time. For the middle two sections we will eventually get some translucent sheets, for usen when boating for pleasure (rather than when being strictly 'historic' for display purposes), but as the last event of this year, the BCLM, requires strict historical adherence, we can leave that until next year.

The mantle of greatness

Once, as an adolescent, when we went on holiday to a rented cottage at Selsey, I packed a pair of oven gloves. It was an odd thing even to possess at the age of fourteen, let alone to take on holiday. But (I suppose being unaware at the time of the insulating prpoerties of tea towels) I thought that, if someone discovered that oven gloves were needed, it would be my moment of glory. And I wasn't even a boy scout. I can't recall whether my oven gloves were scorned or simply never called upon, but my moment finally arrived last Sunday.

Steve from Swallow approached, saying 'I've been told you're the person here who's most likely to be able to help.... ' I do hope so, I replied, what do you need? 'A mantle for a Tilley lamp... There's another illuminated parade tonight and we've taken the electric lights off...' (Steve, it turns out, is a big Tilley lamp fan).

Well, YESS!!!!!!! I have, in fact I have two, hooray. Steve goes away happy, David, the owner of Swallow is forebearing, and of course in my opinion this is easily the best illuminated boat in the parade.



Even if the woman behind me said 'Well, they could have put some fairy lights on as well'