The landlord, noticing the movement in the near empty pub, leaned over the bar in concern “Everything alright there?”
“Oh er, fine, yeah, alright.” Peter stammered back. Glancing out of the window he saw that the streetlamps had come on and dusk was quickly falling. Time to go. Draining his pint, which, if politically incorrect in name, had at least tasted half decent, he took his glass and wandered over to the bar.

“Scuse me, mate” he asked the landlord confidingly, “Don’t suppose you know if there’s any rules about mooring along the towpath up from here, do you? I had a good look when I came along, but I didn’t see any signs.”
The landlord looked Peter up and down for a moment before replying. “You’re a narrowboater are you?” he asked, nosily, “Funny, you don’t look like the usual sort we get round here.” He stared pointedly at Peter’s fraying hemp jumper.
“I’m a bargee, yes” Peter told him, refraining from adding ‘what did you think I was, a paddlesteamer captain?’

The landlord whistled through his teeth doubtfully. It was precisely the same sound, Peter noted, as when the garage wanted to charge him for unnecessary work. “Well I don’t know what kind of boat a bargee drives, but I hope for your sake it’s not bigger than a narrowboat, cos Lady Winter won’t like that at all. She gets proper funny about people scaring the birds out on the marshes.”

“And this Lady Winter is who I need to speak to about mooring?” Peter asked, struggling to remain patient. It would be a dark walk along the narrow towpath soon if he didn’t get a move on, as he hadn’t thought to bring a torch with him.
“Oh aye, she’ll be the one” the landlord told him, “but there’s no point you going over there tonight – she doesn’t answer the door after dark. Can’t blame her really, being all alone up there now and all the stories you read in the papers these days about old dears being beaten half to death for a pension book and an old VHS. I don’t know what the country’s coming to, I tell you. Bring back National Service, I say. Knock some sense into young people.”

“Ah yes,” Peter cut in, keen to nip the landlord’s grand monologue in the bud before he really got going onto asylum seekers and single mothers “Well, with that in mind, I think I’d best get my papers in order for seeing her first thing tomorrow. Thank you.” Pulling on his beaten up old jacket, he hurried to the door before the landlord could give him any more advice.

The freezing air was a shock on his skin as he left the warm of the pub. His breath a cloud of vapour rising into the air as he blew on his hands, he shoved them into his pockets and headed back towards the unlit towpath. “This could be an interesting stay.” he told himself as he headed back to the boat.

The population of the Magic Village counts roughly 120 naval residents. It is impossible to count all the boats though … some of the smaller narrowboats hide away under what is called “the Mud Cathedral” …

Here’s a look at what I have been doing to amuse myself…

Baking bananas filled with chocolate in our stove. Mmmmmm.

Whipping cream. Off grid gadget review coming soon.

Baking naan bread in my cast iron frying pan. Yum!

Watching these guys run up and down the towpath…

And yesterday we went cruising. We’re now inside the M25 again, hurray! Love looking at other people’s boats, particularly the quirky colourful ones. This one had a very well kept roof garden. Looked like a mix of zen and English cottage inspiration. I like the red glossy front!

Getting a bit closer didn’t make it appear any smaller.

Still, having slipped and slid our way up an almost vertical muddy path (my idea of walking hell), the view from the top was more than worth it.
The slight bumps in the background are the Pennines which gives you an idea of how far away they are!

Just to prove we actually got there.

If you click on the photo below and look really really carefully you’ll just be able to make out our boat. It’s on the Macclesfield Canal – behind the plume of smoke

Much to my relief we found a much easier way down – it added a couple of miles to the walk but it was well worth it. I was convinced that if I’d had to go back down the path we climbed up I’d have had to do it on my backside. Not a good look!

The weather was brilliant and we left the Marina for the short trip at 10.05 on the 22nd and the first thing wa saw was a Kingfisher. It’s always a thrill seeing that flash of blue and orange fly low across the water.

We reached the Stoke Bruerne top lock at 14.00 and managed to turn, although this wasn’t helped by another boater opening the paddles to fill the lock as we were broadsides across the canal.

We then went back towards the tunnel and managed to find a mooring space sandwiched between the Cheese boat and the Fudge boat – not good for the waistline, but utterly delicious.

It was really busy with many boats already moored for the following weekends festivities. We went for a lovely walk down the locks and across the field whilst the preparations were in full flow. Had an intersting chat with one of the house owners who had just had his chimney stacks rebuilt and was scaping paint of lintels!

On the Sunday it was back sharpish as the forecast was for heavy rain. Perfect timing, as we moored at the Marina 10.40, the rain started and on the journey home an hour later, true to english weather it tipped it down.

Looking forward to October, final trip of the year planned up the Leicester Arm of the Grand Union.

Hours start 1230.6, hours end 1237.8. Hours for trip 7.2

The nice thing about being moored on the towpath is that you’re in the perfect place to observe the local wildlife.

My great grandmother, great grandfather, and great aunt from the far north of Sweden are now up on the wall.

Our little green table lamp is part of IKEA’s solar range. It’s called SUNNAN. Great if you live off grid and want an extra light that’s easy to move around and doesn’t require any wiring. Or for going camping? Or if you just like gadgets. The solar panel is detachable (it slots in where you can see a hole in the base of the lamp in the picture above), so you can put it outside to charge. The battery seems to recharge quickly and it lasts a really long time. It comes in different colours too! We have a white Sunnan lamp in our bedroom.

IKEA were selling lots of solar products earlier this year. I also bought a string of solar powered lanterns which are great. Much better quality than the lanterns I bought from an Ebay shop which broke after a couple of weeks… But everything except the Sunnan lamp seems to have disappeared from the website. Please bring the other solar products back soon IKEA!! (and bring back some decent, proper Swedish food to your food shop please.)

We finally left the marina this weekend! We’re cruising in to London over the next few weeks, before heading out to Essex again to get our hull blacked (= the bottom of the boat painted). I had forgotten how much fun cruising is. I had also forgotten how noisy our air cooled vintage engine is!

Our little boat approaching the second lock of the day…

Flowers, herbs, an anchor and lots of smokeless coal for our stove.

One of our plans for the day was to stop by these rubbish barges to get rid of some of the remains of the work we’ve been doing around the boat. Isn’t it scary to see all the rubbish people dump? Human beings create an awful lot of waste. I think it’s one of the things you become really aware of on a boat. Everything that comes on to the boat has to come out, and you don’t have the luxury of a weekly rubbish collection on your doorstep or a toilet flushing away your poo to somewhere far away…

We baked apples (filled with sugar, cinnamon and butter) in the stove for desert. Yum yum. Finally, I have to tell you we have officially been given the “but you look completely normal!” seal of approval by The Scandinavian Kitchen. We went in to buy cinnamon buns (they make very nice ones!) last weekend and had a funny conversation with the man behind the till. Apparently we don’t look like boat dwelling hippies at all. How disappointing!

There will be more time to spend with my family, the people and also the animals that are so dear to me, and who helped me so much through the darkest times of my life, and who share these happy ones so wholeheartedly.

Time to take Bluebell for long cycle rides, Poppy for long drives, to ride Jack and Chess (maybe not simultaneously) through the fields, to photograph and record the things I didn’t even have time to see before.

Long afternoons to spend with friends, chatting, talking, just being. Time to dream and plan for a nomadic future – narrowboats and caravans, visiting friends, a gentler pace of life. And, as more than one friend has said… perhaps more time for romance!

While still running my businesses and creating my portfolio life, I also want to find time to learn – through the university, evening dance classes, finally getting going on my Universal Class courses, through Free Range Humans and Escape the City (just because I’ve escaped, doesn’t mean I can’t still spend time with fabulous like minded people)…

All these things I have missed for the past five years. All these things I am so much looking forward to – and all these things and more I will be thankful for. I’ll still be busy but I am absolutely determined to make more of everyday life now I have taken the leap. I don’t want to just live for the weekends – I want every day to be worth something.

I don’t regret my time in London, I’ve met some wonderful people (you really do find absolute gems in the most unexpected places) and I’ve learned a lot, much of it also unexpected. But the time is right to move on, and I am focused on the future. I don’t think I’ll ever return to work in the City – but I will take many memories of it with me.

In use since 1805, the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct was engineered and built by Thomas Telford, known for his bridges and roads throughout England, and William Jessop, the canal engineer of the pair.

An architectural wonder, the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct soars above the valley of the River Dee in northeast Wales. Images by Dorothy Clendenin.

The aqueduct takes the canal across the valley of the River Dee at a height of 126 ft. Its trough is 11 ft. wide and 1007 ft. in length, made of flanged cast-iron panels. These are bolted together, their joints sealed with a mixture of Welsh flannel, white lead and iron particles. The trough rides on cast-iron arches supported by 19 hollow piers of brick, the structure’s mortar originally being of lime, water and ox blood. Once every five years, the aqueduct’s “plug is pulled.” It’s sealed off at either end and drained for inspection and maintenance.

Unlike bridges, aqueducts carry a constant vertical load. By virtue of Archimedes’ Principle, the mass of any boat upon it pushes an equal mass of water off the aqueduct.

Narrowboats are the watercraft specifically designed for canals and their locks.

Narrowboats have been the means of canal travel, their dimensions dictated by width of the canals and length of their locks. (Some leeway may be gained by angling the craft diagonally in a lock.) Today, typical British narrowboats are 6 ft. 10 in. wide, their lengths from 30 to 60 ft. Originally important for the transport of cargo in the early days of the Industrial Revolution, narrowboats are primarily pleasure craft today.

Which is more exhilarating, the aqueduct rim to the right of the narrowboat or the towpath to the left?

Riding a narrowboat across the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct—or equally harrowing to some, walking its towpath—is akin to traveling on a cloud above the lush green countryside.

About 11 miles of the Llangollen Canal are in regular use. Along its length are restaurants, pubs, a visitor centre and other attractions. See
http://www.pontcysyllte-aqueduct.co.uk
. And remember, it’s, sort of,  “Pońt-ker-suck-tay” and “Thl’n-gothl’n.” Also, in a pub, “cheers!” is “iechyd da!” Try “i-hýa-id dah!” and I believe the landlord will get your drift. ds

© Dennis Simanaitis, SimanaitisSays.com, 2012

This space is 153 x 190 cm (5′ x 6′ 3″ for imperial readers!), almost 3 square metres. It is a combination of utility room, library and dressing room. The shelf and wardrobe is also the wall which separates the kitchen and the bedroom. Our side hatch is located in this space, so it’s the perfect spot for feeding ducks or saying hello to Harry, the resident swan at the marina we’re currently moored at (but watch out, he is tall enough to nibble on your fingers if you’re not careful…). The owl hook is an Ebay find.

We keep our drinking water bottles here (our water tank is a bit rusty), and our little twin tub washing machine. We designed and built the book shelf and wardrobe ourselves. Very proud. We will get around to painting the wardrobe doors one day…

The monogrammed tea towel is a family heirloom. I love the muted colours and the texture.

The wooden jewellery box used to be my grandmother’s sewing box. This owl is from Bermondsey Antiques Market. They are open every Friday from 4am. Worth a visit for early birds!

The view from my blogging spot. The stove is lit, the boat is nice and warm, and all the doors are open to let the sunshine in… Happy cinnamon bun day to all my Swedish readers!

That being said, it still remains for me to write about our visit to Mary Arden’s House and Warwick Castle, and then about the days in Germany [Aachen, Hamburg, Quickborn, Rügen and Bonn]. This will certainly take quite some time and thus I’m asking your patience. I’d recommend to subscribe to the e-mail notifications for my “Bilderbuch”-Blog, too, so as to get an e-mail whenever I publish a new entry there. That would save you from constantly checking that blog, which might be somewhat tedious as I only sporadically publish entries there.

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That was a delightful swim. I don’t think I have ever had a better. We plunged and gamboled around as merry as crickets. Sheila sat in the boat and threw bread to us and we all pretended to be ducks.

Then Arthur did his imitation of a submarine, Harry tried to life-save Joan (and nearly drowned her) and Dennis chased a swan.
When the fun was at its height a small child rowed towards us inexpertly and sat staring.
‘Hullo sonny,’ I said jovially, catching hold of his gunwale for a rest. ‘Arn’t you coming in for a swim?’
He didn’t reply at once, but continued to brood. He then said ‘I suppose people have to go to the lavatory, haven’t they?’
I didn’t like this.
‘Yes.’ he went on. ‘My dad won’t let me swim in the river here. Its the sewage, he says.’
The sun went in. Somehow the water didn’t seem so nice. Arthur was just diving under the surface and spouting like a whale. I shuddered.
The relentless child went on.
‘It comes down on the ebb tide from the dyke, my dad says. My dad says he wouldn’t swim in this part of the river for all the beer in Norwich, my dad says.’
‘Where’s the sewer?’
The boy pointed to a bend in the river.’Just round the corner. They open the gates when the tide’s ebbing, like what it is now,’
I did not swim madly to the bank. I kept my head, paddling very carefully in a bizarre fashion, holding my body perfectly upright with my face as far away from contact with the water as possible. As i dare not open my mouth, I didn’t warn the others until I reached the bank.
Joan went berserk, poor girl, and shrieked, ‘Oh no, it’s all your fault Dennis,’ and swam to the bank as if pursued by a jet-propelled piece of effluent.

Dennis went pale and tense and by some remarkable feat of muscular control actually launched himself out of the water from the waist upwards and moved vertically to the bank. Arthur feigned indifference and hooted with bucolic laughter, but i noticed he got to the bank first.
We were only just in time. The sewage dyke announced its presence five minutes later.
Looking at the chart we found the following legends marked near our mooring;
Sewage Works(Norwich Corporation)
Sewage Farm.
Sewage Dyke.
Sewage Outlet.
Old sewer.
But as Arthur said, it was just as well we hadn’t looked at the chart or it would have spoiled a lovely swim

With all my friends buying and renovating their own houses, I’m not afraid to say I got a little jealous.

I have done several searches of property websites, and mortgage provider calculators to see what I can afford – turns out, not a lot, certainly not much in the centre of Oxford.
One search on the Findaproperty.com iphone app brought up allotments, a garage, a few trailer homes outside Oxford. Not really much of a choice there! Scrolling down further – ‘Redwing’ a 52ft narrowboat in Wolvercote.
It had never occurred to me to live on a narrowboat before, even though I’ve done a few day trips on them, and several sailing holidays (including two weeks on a yacht in Greece that is probably the best holiday I’ve ever had).

I mentioned my discovery to a few work colleagues and friends, and to my surprise, the majority of them either know someone who owns a narrowboat, know someone that lives on a narrowboat, or they’ve thought of doing it themselves. Why has no one ever mentioned it to me?
This could actually work.

Now I’m scouring websites for narrow boats to live on in Oxford.
My mother actually found a wordpress site advertising a boat called Mandingo, in the exact location I’m looking for, and called me immediately. I promised her I would contact the advertiser there and then, although the posting was quite old.

The next day I also spoke to a boat finance adviser at RoyScot Larch in Abingdon, who advised me that they lend up to 75% of the boat value, which doesn’t include any of the mooring fees (in sought-after locations like Oxford, these are around £10,000), and on my salary, this would be up to around £30,000. So a £40,000 boat, plus mooring, is my limit, really.

I get a reply from the Mandingo owner – the boat is still available! She’s taken it on a farewell voyage, so I know it works, and she has had a few people interested, with a possible offer in the next week. She assures me she won’t make any decisions until she returns from her trip on Thursday 27th September, so I arrange to go and see it as soon as she gets back.

This is the story so far.

As the name says, simply some cows grazing by the canal. I took some pictures of the cows on the canal bank after I saw a rainbow and tried to take a picture of it, but failed miserably

I thought I would start at the beginning with the actual boat. Here it is… or I should probably say here she is (boats are always “she”s aren’t they??)… (Apologies in advance Grandma P!)

Yes, she is called Savoy Hill. Not a strictly traditional/historical boat but definitely very functional for holidaying purposes. There’s Grandma P making the most of a very rare moment of peace, quiet and sunshine. Mr P is at the tiller (the stick wot you use to drive it wiv).

Here’s a view from the back (technically the stern… I think?)…

You can see a little bit of traditional canal boat decoration on the side hatch and the doors at the back. Roses and castles were painted on working boats by their owners… beautiful things they aspired to. On the far left of this picture you can see the lock we are about to go into. I’m going to explain this carefully as requested.. A lock is a method for making a canal go up and down a hill…. sort of stairs for canals. In this photo you can see the locks in front of the boat. We are at the lower side of the lock and are going to go up. This part of the Trent and Mersey Canal has pairs of narrow locks… you can see the second of the pair to the right of the picture. (Other parts of the canal system in the UK have different sizes/lengths of locks.)

The boat goes in at the bottom when the lock is empty. Grandad P and I (designated lock operators on our boat) open the gates to let the boat in then close them afterwards. We move to the other end of the lock and use our windlasses (the “tool” from my last post) to open the paddles in the upper lock gates. The paddles are like little doors in the gates which let the water from above the lock flood into the lock which then causes the boat to rise. Here’s Savoy Hill inside a lock…

You can see the lock is pretty empty and the water is rushing and bubbling in at the bottom of the picture. In the top left you can see someone using their windlass to close the paddles on the gates of the other lock). It can be pretty strenuous work to open/close the paddles. The gates can be heavy too but the best thing with them is to lean your body weight on them until they are ready to move – you can feel them give and you know its time to open them. Lots of eager pushing and pulling is not necessary, just use of your body weight. Once the water inside the lock has reached the same level as the canal on the upper side of the lock the gates will open and the boat can float out and continue its journey.

There are other highlights along the canals too. I mentioned the Anderton Boat Lift in my last post – I might do a separate post about that. Here’s another exciting highlight of this trip… the Harecastle Tunnel….

Its the second longest canal tunnel in the UK and takes 30-40 minutes to travel through on a boat (bear in mind that narrowboats don’t go very fast at all). Because its a long one there are tunnel managers at each end and boats are only allowed through at certain times because there is no room to pass once inside. Harecastle is also interesting because at one end there are doors which close after you enter to allow the ventilation fans to start so the tunnel doesn’t get clogged with exhaust fumes. So in one direction you get shut in and in the other direction you literally can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel!!!!! Here it is though…

I don’t know if its just us, or if everyone does it but we always sing in canal tunnels… very loudly!! It sounds great. But I am sure that the people at the other end can hear us long before we get there and must be laughing their socks off at our terrible singing. This was confirmed on our return trip through the Harecastle Tunnel this year. We came out of the end to find the tunnel manager creased up with laughter at our interpretation of The Muppets “Mahna Mahna” *blushes and giggles*.

Wonder what songs we entertained this audience with????

As we passed under bridge 25, on the towpath were two beautiful dogs quite merrily barking at us.  I did look around for an owner at that point but couldn’t see anyone.  As one was a Rottie, I commented to Michael, that I wouldn’t have been pleased to meet them if I had been walking Lincoln.

About 1/2 mile away, I happened to turn around and saw one of the dogs fall in the canal and it couldn’t get out.  The boater who was passing at the time, just watched it happen and carried on as if nothing had happened.

Michael crashed moored the boat against the bank (unfortunately it was in the rough and not normally somewhere you can get into the side).  There was about a 2ft gap between the boat and what looked like a solid bit of grass.  Subconsciously, I knew I had a 50/50 chance of going in the water. I stretched my leg over the water, put my foot down and promptly fell into the canal.  I scrambled up as fast as I could (knowing that there was a 17 tonne boat just behind me), grabbed the centre line to pull the boat in so that Michael could run down the towpath to the dog.

A  canoeist arrived and I asked if he had seen the dog, to which he shook his head.  This could only mean that the dog was still under the water.

I was holding the boat, whilst sopping wet, half listening to some stranger on the towpath calling the boaters just past the bridge ‘dirty gypsies’, when I spied Michael returning.

When he had got there, (the rottie had run off) the dog had been standing under the water very calmly with just his eyes and nose sticking out.  Michael grabbed hold of him under the chest and rolled him out on to the towpath.  He said, the dog then retched a few times, shook himself (all over Michael) and ran off over the fields.  We think these dogs were house dogs and had escaped.  The owners will never know how close they came to losing their dog.

I kept thinking all night, what if we hadn’t been there?

Now what really pisses me off, is the boater who was there when it happened and just carried on going – he even seemed surprised when we stopped in a rush to go and rescue the dog.

Yesterday, I could hardly move my right arm, I must have hurt it when I fell in.  It’s a good job the car is an automatic as I was able to drive just using my left arm.  Today, it is a lot better although I wouldn’t want to try lifting anything.

I’m getting to old for these types of adventures…..

You might have been wondering where I have been and why have I been so quiet?? Well I acquired a new tool last week and had to spend lots of time using it. Not one of my usual tools but it is one I am quite familiar with. Perhaps this photo will explain…

You see that great big lump of metal at the back that looks a bit like a mangled allen key?? Thats the one. That was my new tool for the week. Very sadly I have had to give it back now but I will no doubt see it again next year. As you might have guessed its a windlass or to give it its technical name “one o’ them windey things wot you use to operate locks on’t canal wiv”.

Yes, we spent the week on a narrowboat and had a fantastic time. Grandma and Grandad P came with us as extra deckhands (need someone to keep an eye on small boys while locks are being done). Highlight of the week was probably our trips on the Anderton Boat Lift (could write a whole post on that one). Mr P used to live on a narrowboat when I first met him and we are quite familiar with much of the canal system in the north west of England but when we were there (many years ago now) the Anderton Boat Lift was not operating. It has since been restored and can now be used to get from the Trent and Mersey Canal down to the River Weaver and back again. Rachell (she of The Little Room) informs me that if you search on You Tube you can find a video of it in action.

So many locks were done, much cake was eaten, and much red wine drunk. Most nights I was totally worn out from all the fresh air and hard work. Who ever said it was a relaxing holiday was VERY wrong… well it might be without small boys! But everyone thoroughly enjoyed it and Little J is convinced that we own it (we don’t… its a club boat and we borrow/hire it for the week). He gets very upset at the thought of someone else taking “my green boat” when we go home!!

You can see the crochet in the picture too – sadly not much was done on account of the wornoutness! I did complete a few squares. And I did eagerly await the announcement of the them for Rachell’s CAL and got all excited thinking about what yarn and what colours to use. I spent a long time looking in all the gardens we chugged (tried sailed but thats not the right word!) past and dreaming about cottage gardens. I absolutely have to share this one with you. And while its not a cottage garden I’m sure you will agree that its gorgeous. If it hasn’t been in a magazine then it should be and I’m very tempted to add it to Pinterest. How about this for a garden shed?…..

Right on the edge of the canal too. Must have a little woodburning stove inside looking at the shiny chimney and I could see the back of a comfy sofa through the window.

Well its still been all systems go since we got back, having only a couple of days to get organised before school started. Extra special this year too because Little J was starting Big School. He was so keen and excited. Not worried at all. I was the one who was nervous… no idea why but I felt like it was my first day! I have missed them both lots to over the last couple of days. I’ve still been busy but when I stop for a minute… usually at lunchtime… I wonder how they are getting on. Little J has certainly been quite worn out once he has got home and has wanted to sit on my lap and have cuddles a lot so I think he’s missing me too but he has still been eager to go the next day and has run in the door and put all his things in the right places straight away. Long may it continue. Here he is looking extremely proud on his first morning…

It is the end of an era really as he is my last one to start school. There are no more. I will be all on my own, all day, in term time forever. Sort of nice, sort of not. Going to take a while to get used to it but I am definitely viewing it on the positive side

Right, still got lots to do, got a wedding to go to at the weekend and still got a few name tapes to sew in *rolls eyes*. Hope that Friday treats you well. Yay for the weekend!!!

Just reading a great book by Terry Darlington called Narrow Dog to Carcassonne. It involves a narrowboat, a channel crossing and a whippet named Jim. You will chuckle all the way through. Here is a description of the whippet breed from the first page:

‘Whippets are very thin. On top they are velvet and underneath they are bald. They are warm and smell of buttered toast. They love every living creature to a rapture unless you are small and furry and trying to get the hell out of here.’

Poppy is not thin, perhaps rather too well nourished (blame the husband!) but she certainly does love every living creature to a rapture (see below with her sleeping partner) except for the squirrels and they have all wisely got the hell out of here.

Loving to a rapture

Sign writing

Scroll work at the bow

Please click on an image in the gallery below for larger images.

This was our last morning, and with Tame Valley due back at the marina by 08.30 and the long drive back to Cornwall ahead of us, we were on the move by 07.00.
Only 20 minutes later we moored up for the last time outside the base and were able to unload our bags from the boat and have our car loaded before the boat was expertly taken inside to its berth.

Moored up outside the marina

Although the traffic was heavy, we stopped twice, once for breakfast and then at Taunton for coffee and fuel, and reached home by 15.00.

We would like to thank David, Geraldine and the staff at Springwood Marina for a wonderful week cruising around the Warwickshire Ring in a superb boat with every facility we could have wanted. The service we received, from our initial enquiry to the signing off at the end of our holiday, was polite, courteous and professional.

I’ll end this blog with a few photos which didn’t make it into my daily entries, with captions where appropriate

Some strange ‘people’ we saw outside Bedworth

One of the cast iron bridges over Hawkesbury Junction

How many thousands of ropes have passed through these grooves . . .

Entering Newbold Tunnel

Braunston Junction after the rain had cleared

A family of swans outside The Black Boy below Knowle

Rubbish in the canal below Minworth Locks

Ben steering Tame Valley into a lock

Lock paddles