After the busyness of Christmas, we slowed down by sauntering serenely down the G&S to Sharpness for a quiet New Year break. Happy New Year everybody!
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We're now back in Gloucestershire - after a two-and-a-half-weeks' southward bound journey along the familiar Staffs & Worcs Canal and River Severn, punctuated by a long weekend in Edinburgh for Becky's cousin's wedding (and for Tom a quick day trip to Cardiff for work as well). We didn't take many photos - in fact none on Sabrina, amazingly - so here's the best from the few we did. We moored up here for 5-6 hours, as it was a special steam gala on the Severn Valley Railway, and we'd secured a timetable, so knew when to expect them all! This was the best one of the day in our opinion - the SR Bulleid Pacific 34027 Taw Valley, currently named 'No 70 Queen Elizabeth II' and painted purple in honour of the Platinum Jubilee, and of course more poignant following Her Majesty's recent passing. Having finally left Westering for a couple of nights in Hopwas whilst we returned to Gloucestershire for the Little One's second round of vaccinations, we returned with Becky's parents who joined us for a few days. Having planned to moor near The Plough at Huddlesford (a pretty renowned canal pub also right by a railway...), we arrived to find that it was hosting an extremely loud beer festival! Well we moored up, had our dinner there and sampled the brews, but decided it might be prudent to move on a little, if we were to get any sleep... We're back on the Coventry - heading north through such metropoles as Nuneaton (hometown of Middlemarch author George Eliot), Atherstone (once of hat-making renown), Polesworth (which has one train a day - yes, Tom got it) and Tamworth (of pig fame) - all aided most ably by the excellent Thomas Jesty, who accompanied us from Atherstone to Hopwas. The geographically-geeky amongst you will have deduced that we have finally left Warwickshire, and for the next while will be in, you guessed it, Staffordshire! After having spent a while in Warwickshire, last week it was time to lollop into Leicestershire for a foray along the extended cul-de-sac which is the Ashby Canal. Which never ever reached Ashby. Still, it's pretty and rural and quiet - and there's a steam train (and medieval re-enactments at nearby Bosworth Field!) - so it's hard to beat. The Caldon Canal is perhaps it's only rival in this respect. Coventry clearly isn't the prettiest place in the world, but it's not that bad either. We've had a lovely 24 hours here. The Cathedral (old and new) is rather amazing. It's lovely to have Tom's Grandma aboard for the second time (following last year's jolly on the Wyrley & Essington). Travelling alone on the trains at 87 is pretty good we think; she takes it all in her stride. Tom met her yesterday at Coventry and travelled with her the short leg to Rugby, and we've been doing that 10 minute train journey in reverse at a rather slower pace...
With an air of resignation the chap on the end of the line said that it happened all the time, and that the farmer we were trying to get hold of was absolutely useless, and that he had no contact details for him. So what to do? We'd been bobbing around now for ages...
Having never before navigated the North Oxford canal, it was with some excitement (on Tom's part at least) that we steered left at Braunston off the Grand Union.
It has been a great joy to welcome Connor & Bekah Perring to Westering for three nights (Bekah's second trip aboard, having joined us in July 2019 when she was Miss Galpin), not least because they joined us just above Hatton Locks, the notorious flight of 21 wide locks just west of Warwick! Local resident and old uni friend James Soper and his wife Amy and daughter Flo also came aboard / helped out which made the whole thing a lot more enjoyable. A Grand ReUnion indeed. Connor & Bekah's stay was not without incident, however. Read on to find out more...
By now a little gaggle of men from other boats had congregated at the lockside. Initially I smiled and listened carefully to their advice but it soon became apparent they knew no more than we did and their conjectures became increasingly unhelpful and unwelcome. We were trying to follow Brandon’s instructions when we suddenly had the curious sensation that the boat was moving upwards. It seems like a jolly CRT chap had authorised the flock of impatient boaters to shut the gates behind us and start filling the lock while we were scrambling down in the engine bay. If I’d paid more attention I’d have been fuming but luckily we were a bit preoccupied. When the lock was nearly full Tom managed to correctly interpret a diagram Brandon had sent us with the emergency stop lever clearly circled. Suddenly the throbbing and the whirring fell silent. Our lock wheelers opened the gates and Tom and Connor towed the boat out with ropes in order to let the built up traffic pass.
We knew we were properly out of Brum when we reached Knowle Locks, a flight of six wide locks we'd never done before. And they were magnificent! Made all the easier, too, by breasting up with the lovely folks from Nb Edith May. Boaters do not generally beat the drum for Birmingham's badlands, so our long day bidding farewell to Britain's second city (this is the fourth blog post in which Sunday 7th August has featured) continued apace. Having turned south-east at Proof House Junction, we were now on what was once the Warwick & Birmingham Canal, but which is nowadays the veritable Grand Union Canal. Though the word 'grand' is a bit of a misnomer in these parts. These salubrious suburbs were not to be sauntered through, so we scurried instead, stopping once or twice to clear some plastic of the prop - surprise surprise! We're reading "Maiden's Trip" by Emma Smith at the moment, a canal tale based on the real experiences of the author as one of the working boat-girls during the Second World War. This ultra-modern ultra-ugly business park (above right) was once Tyseley Wharf - a bustling depot where Emma and, over many decades, countless other working boaters had their cargoes of zinc and steel that they'd brought all the way up the Grand Union from London unloaded. We sped on by, lamenting a past that, if we'd actually been there, we'd probably have found pretty hard to stomach, but at least it had a bit more character than the present pile.
Part of the Birmingham Canal Navigations (BCN) that we've never navigated before is the 1¼ mile-long Digbeth Branch Canal, which connects the Birmingham & Fazeley to the Grand Union - and that's where we were headed...
We've been and gone to (and from) Birmingham - saw some men's quarter final beach volleyball matches at the Commonwealth Games! Anyway, here are some boating highlights... after all, that's why you're here. If you are. This morning (7th August - yes I know the blog post is dated 6th, but for some reason, it then puts the posts in the wrong order, so I've had to backdate it - ah well), we left at a lovely 6am. We had a long way to go, and a lot of locks to do in not the most salubrious of suburbs. We thought we'd get through them before the hoards of imagined yobbos arose from their slumbers. Here's us trickling past presumably slumbering boaters. The northern half of the Stratford Canal isn't overly noteworthy for much, but it does have two or three lift bridges. So here they are.
Most narrowboats don't get above Stratford on the Avon, or The Old Bathing Place if they are desperate to empty their loo. Tom noticed that technically the limit of navigation is a few miles upstream so that is where we headed today... The Avon (the one of Stratford fame, not one of the other six in England...) is just lovely.
With scorchingly high temperatures forecasted, we were anxious to find some shade to shelter in. First we tried Eckington Wharf but this proved to be an unsuitable overnight option and we were very thankful for the warm welcome Defford Marina gave us when we decided we needed to move in the early evening. Super friendly place with amazing rocky road! This morning we nestled into some willows a little upstream of Eckington Wharf and now have perfect shade.
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