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.
Wednesday, 27 February 2013
At last, the cut beckons.
Now here's a sight we haven't seen for a while, the top of Armadillo and Jill swinging off of a windlass
and closing the bottom gates of a lock.
We're on the move again and today we headed south down the Oxford. First task Napton Locks.
Beside lock ten is a quirky juxtaposition of building styles. The old lengthsman's hut could be from any age but is most likely nineteenth century, while the concrete pill box behind it has a definite feeling of the nineteen forties. They were for local defence if the Nazis invaded and were generally manned by the Home Guard. Having spoken to various veterans of that conflict the general opinion is that they would have been useless: but they served to reassure the population that something was being done in their defence.
The fields and woods, like the weather, still have a definite air of winter about them, so much for my "harbingers of spring".
At the top of the flight the old, lozenge shaped, warehouse which had been in use as offices now seems to be deserted but opposite there is a shiny new waterpoint.
We find that waterpoints are like magnets, as soon as we spot one we are drawn toward it by some fatal attraction and so, although we had watered only yesterday, we had to stop and top up.
We are now moored way out in the country, revelling in the freedom.