The peregrinations, both geographical and mental, of Graham & Jill on narrowboat Armadillo. It being a hodge-podge or gallimaufrey of travels, thoughts and frequently inaccurate facts.
Sunday, 17 April 2011
Saturday night at The Anchor.
Saturday evening and the boats have gathered at
The Anchor, the pub has been slaking the thirst of passing boaters for nigh on one hundred and fifty years and for most of that time it has been in the hands of the same family. It is a time warp, both in decor and the entertainment it offers. As in all the best pubs there are is no piped music and no electronic machines, it does have good beer (Wadworths 6X) and a fiercely loyal clientele who regularly provide their own entertainment.
Mal is one of the stalwarts, he has a mooring opposite and a wonderful repertoire of songs, from the hilarious to the tragic, here he is singing Hard Working Boater, I know you can't hear it, just take my word.
It wasn't long before he was joined by Dave on accordian and I'm afraid I don't know the chap on the fiddle, but he was very good on that and on his mandolin.
The ensemble rapidly expanded and by this time we were all singing along, even when we didn't know the words. Even I added my contribution with a rather off key rendition of "Bell bottom trousers, coat of navy blue"
Nathan had by now joined in with his mouth organs and the roof was being well and truly raised.
But alas, all good things must come to an end and Olive, our revered hostess, called last orders and started to collect the glasses so it was time to drink up and toddle off to bed. Thank you everybody, especially Olive. An evening in The Anchor is like being in someones front room, it is so intimate. Long may such islands of civilisation survive in todays world.