Narrowboat Armadillo

A list of moans. Jill called me a miserable old s*d.

2012-02-07T15:17:00.000Z

Where to start? The catalogue of expenses just goes on. After the new t.v. I thought that was the end and then, Saturday forenoon, I switch the reliable old lap top on and guess what, it refuses to admit that the internet exists, a whole chunk of program had disappeared into some electronic black hole. I have a state of the art lap top but a mind more attuned to the abacus so the errant machine was carried up to the local computer wizard who was totally unable to locate the missing bit, he suggested upgrading to Windows 7, I agreed. This is fine, everything is back in working order but I now have to find my way around again, and where did I put the software for the camera?
At least there was the Six Nations over the weekend, three top class games as well, on the new t.v., in H.D.
Sunday the Eco-fan packed up and we are still well frozen in up the town arm. What fun, dragging the water round from the utilities block in a twenty litre container.

Ducks are not the smartest of creatures, this pair tried landing on ice, they slid up the cut in a welter of wings and feet and then had to slither their way back down to the boat to cadge breakfast. We couldn't resist feeding them, for the p.c. among us it was wholemeal so it won't poison them.
According to the weather forecast last week it was due to thaw this week, the forecast this week says it will thaw next week. yeah, right.

This was this morning, I knew it was cold when, upon bursting forth from the bed, I heard the ice crack the full length of the boat and upon opening the curtains I was greeted by freezing fog. Let's be philosophical about it, there are worse places to be stuck and at least this year we will not be mocked for wimping out and hiding in a marina.

Watch this space............

Iced in. Nothing new there then.

2012-02-03T20:01:00.000Z

This was us at 0745 this morning, doesn't look as though we'll be moving for a day or two. -7C last night according to our max/min thermometer. It's about as reliable as a railway timetable so make your own minds up.

The surface of the canal from our side hatch, no idea what causes the pattern but it's quite striking.

This was out on the main line yesterday, I'm not a swan lover myself but they do have a knack of looking regal.
That's the lot for now, we've just got a new H.D. telly so I'm off to watch Mastermind in H.D.

Watch this space............

The mere and we claim a first ever sighting.

2012-02-02T10:48:00.001Z

We're still at Ellesmere, I had to go and see the quack as my dose of man flu' has left me deaf, sounds daft but the catarrh has gone into my ears. As usual at the doctors, only got to see the nurse and she just said," Catarrh can last up to six weeks, you'll have to live with it", no point telling her it had lasted that long already, she wasn't listening, or perhaps she has catarrh?
So we went for a walk out to the mere,

on a bright winter's day it really did look picturesque, if decidedly nippy.
The snowdrops are out in full force now

and the black headed gulls are starting to regain their summer dark head.

These are all signs of spring on its way and now the met. office says we are going to freeze our nether regions off. We're iced in already but after the last couple of winters it has lost its novelty value.
We are claiming a first sighting, something we weren't expecting to see for months yet. While by the mere a white pick-up went past, what was emblazoned on the side? "Canal &Rivers Trust", and the new logo. Of course the camera was hanging on my belt so no picture, but it looks like C.A.R.T. has arrived, somewhat premature I would have thought.

Ellesmere church is perched up on it's own little knoll, so as you walk past you are about on a level with the contents of the graveyard, spooky.

How's that for a collection of roof lines and chimneys?
Back at the wharf

the old warehouse is in an advanced state of dereliction but the crane is in fine fettle. There is also a new sculpture, part of a "Sculpture trail". Now I know I'm a total philistine but to me

this looks as though it was left by the biggest dog in the world.

If you want a vertical sculpture how about this? The water point had dripped all night just to create it.

My favourite picture of the day.

Watch this space................

A Song of the Weather.

2012-01-30T17:07:00.001Z

Does anyone remember Flanders and Swann? I picked up on one of their songs the other day and managed to find the lyrics on line. How our weather doesn't change.

January brings the snow,
Makes your feet and fingers glow.

February's ice and sleet,
Freeze the toes right off your feet.

Welcome, March, with wint'ry wind,
Would thou weren't not so unkind.

April brings the sweet spring showers,
On and on for hours and hours.

Farmers fear unkindly May,
Frost by night and hail by day.

June just rains and never stops,
Thirty days and spoils the crops.

In July the sun is hot,
Is it shining?
No it's not.

August, cold and dank and wet,
Brings more rain than any yet.

Bleak September's mist and mud,
Is enough to freeze the blood.

Then October adds a gale,
Wind and slush and rain and hail.

Dark November brings the fog,
Shouldn't happen to a dog.

Freezing wet December, then,
Bloody January again.

I make no excuse for my plagiarism, I'll borrow anyone's genius.

Watch this space...........

Have you ever been to Bettisfield?

2012-01-29T14:56:00.001Z

We spent a day at Grindley Brook, rotten weather so we stayed put. When we moved on Jandai was still on the moorings and when we got to Whitchurch we found Moore2Life, Rock and Roll and Seyella parked just beyond the arm. We didn't stop there, it's a splendid town but it is a bit of a drag from the cut. We tootled on towards Ellesmere, it's lovely country but doesn't lend itself to photography as it is rather flat. Jill enjoyed herself swinging the windlass on the lift bridges until we came to the bridge just before the Prees Arm, Moriss' Lift Bridge,

Seventy-eight turns to lift it and nigh on as many to drop it again, don't ever try and arm wrestle her.
The next feature is Whixall Moss, perhaps lack of features would be more accurate.

A rare raised bog with many rare plants and insects, I bet that includes mossies in the summer. At this time of year it's just a flat, brown stretch of dead grass/reeds.

The post that marks the border between England and Wales, it actually says Wales on one side and England on the other but it doesn't show up in the picture so, once again, you'll just have to take my word for it. Of course when you get to Ellesmere you are back in Shropshire so this bit of Wales doesn't last long.
There is a water point at Bettisfield, (it's not marked in Nicholson's), so we decided to stop for a day or two and give the washing machine a bit of a work out.
Bettisfield is actually in Wales, you can tell as all the road signs are bi-lingual, but that didn't stop us venturing forth and here follows a tour of the sights of Bettisfield.

There is still a railway station here, it even has a couple of enamel adverts. on the walls, unfortunately it no longer has a railway line, both it and

the old goods shed are now des. res'.
Next? the church, built in 1874, not the usual high Victorian gothic revival at all.

but a nice clean design, just "churchie" enough to keep with tradition. Inside the font and pulpit could almost be from the 1960's.

Well done that architect, G.E. Street if you're interested.
Opposite the church is Bettisfield Hall,

and if you take a walk across the fields and over Cornhill Bridge you find

the Primitive Methodist Ebenezer Chapel. Virtually all the housing is post war and that is Bettisfield, well I didn't say it was exciting did I?
Yesterday we moved on up to Ellesmere and to our amazement the town arm had plenty of space in it, most of the boats here are the bloggers convoy which we have been leapfrogging since Adderley.

Watch this space.........

Wrenbury, Grindley Brook and the dogs lead.

2012-01-23T20:44:00.002Z

We moved up to Wrenbury last Wednesday, just by Baddiley Locks you look across the fields to Baddiley Hall and it's attendant church. The classical lines of this Georgian house are just sublime, shame modern housing can't look this good.

At Baddiley bottom lock we were greeted by a cheerful song,

we pointed out that he was too late to audition for Christmas cards and would need to wait 'til next Christmas. They look cute but actually they are nasty bits of work, quite happy to kill another robin that intrudes on their territory, but they are our national bird, perhaps a comment on the English?

At Wrenbury you meet the first Llangollen lift bridge, form and function equals elegance.
That night we decided that, as we hadn't had a meal out for a while, we would grace the portals of The Dusty Miller,

it turned out to be a wise decision. Scallops and black pudding for a starter followed by pan fried duck breast and it was cooked to perfection. Jill's smoked salmon followed by a steak was just as good and we rounded it off with the cheese board. The Robinson's bitter was really well looked after and the service impeccable. Being mid week in winter it was really quiet, how good it would all be on a busy weekend at the height of the season I can't say but if you are feeling flush and fancy a really good nosh up, give it a shot.
Next day we wandered up to the village shop for milk, needless to say we had to go and have a look at the church,

a close examination disclosed no ancient graffiti but it did have a couple of interesting features,

a three storey pulpit and

the ends of the pews were decorated with the coats of arms of the local bigwigs, apparently it was to stop arguments about who could sit where, but my favourite was right at the back of the church, just by the door,

it's the dog whippers pew, the dog whipper's job was to keep the local dogs out of the church and to make sure none of the congregation dozed off during the vicars sermons, those were the days.
We stayed at Wrenbury until this morning because of the rotten weather, can't be doing with cruising in a force eight gale, but at 0900 we were off. At Marbury on the lock side,

our first snowdrops, just about three weeks early.
Then on to Grindley Brook and it's locks.

This is the bottom of the three normal locks which you climb and then you arrive at the three staircase locks. We had to wait at the bottom of the staircase as there was a boat coming down and I thought, "I will put the coolie hat back on top of the chimney," the wind on Saturday had blown it off. So I went to retrieve it from under the cratch where we had stowed it, as I lifted it out I managed to catch the dogs lead with it, the lead immediately headed downwards towards the water so I dropped the coolie hat and made a wild grab for the lead, which I missed. A second later and the only trace of the lead was a circle of ripples on the surface of the canal, the coolie hat was looking decidedly battered where it had hit the concrete and Jill was yelling that the other boat was coming out of the lock and to get moving. It was enough to make a strong man quail, not being a strong man I merely panicked.
By now Jill had got Dai, from Jandai, helping her on the locks so there was nothing to do but but abandon the dog lead and make my miserable way into the locks.

Like all the best stories this one had a happy ending, having parked Armadillo on the water point at the top of the locks I left Jill stuffing the dirty laundry into the washing machine and, armed with my trusty seasearcher magnet, I went back to the scene of the disaster and after a few casts up came the dogs lead, it's a chain one so the magnet had no trouble retrieving it. I rushed back and showed my trophy to Jill who merely sighed and raised her eyes heavenward, oh well.

Watch this space.............

Twisted chimney.

2012-01-17T16:38:00.000Z

Glorious dawn this morning,

I was out with the old dog, one hundred yards and that's it, she sits down and challenges you to move her further, she was always lazy but age has added stubbornness to idleness. So after breakfast Jill and I felt the need to stretch our legs and set off up the towpath,

bridge 5 is looking somewhat part worn, in fact the entire facing brickwork is missing on the upstream side. Will things get better under C.A.R.T? I'm not holding my breath.

It's not every day you see a chimney like this, must have been quite a brickie to build that. Actually the building isn't a bungalow, you just can't see the ground floor, it's below the embankment.
Finally, just to prove it's a bit parky up here,

the bottom of the by-wash at Sawley bottom lock, that's ice hanging on the bushes.

Watch this space..................

Hurleston and the start of the Welsh Canal.(Llangollen Canal)

2012-01-16T19:52:00.000Z

Having fulfilled our needs in Nantwich we have set off on our journey toward Llangollen, you can pronounce it however you like, which we intend to explore to the outrance. As usual our intentions may not coincide with the eventual outcome but we'll do our best.

The first sight of Hurleston locks where the Welsh canal leaves the Shroppie, coming from the south under the bridge makes it a really awkward turn but, needless to say, we got round and managed to get me ashore to set the locks.

As Jill rose majestically up the first lock I came back to tell her the good news, the pound between the first two locks was frozen. Luckily it was not thick and she pushed through it ok. The rest of the flight was clear of ice so we lost none of our nice new blacking.

Two views of the wonderfully sinuous paddle gear on the third lock up. there is no obvious reason for it's shape and I know of no other quite like it, it does give a talking point though.

This is what you see as you look back down the flight from the top lock.
As we are heading towards Wales we thought it very appropriate that next to the flight we saw our first

daffodil of the year. We were pleased to note that there wasn't a leek in the canal,oh those puns!
We are now moored between bridges four and five and we are watching The Masters snooker on the telly, you'll get little sense from Jill this week and not much more from me.

Watch this space..............

War breaks out in Cheshire?

2012-01-14T20:11:00.000Z

Sometimes I worry about the state of English society. We set of for the supermarket today but, as we had some mail to go we headed for town first.

View of the main road bridge over the Weaver, this is on the way to town in case anyone was wondering about the relevance of the picture.
Well when we arrived in the town square we were confronted by a somewhat unusual sight.

Bearing in mind the cowboys we found at Stourport in the summer I suppose we should not have been surprised to find Civil War troops at Nantwich,

except that most of these seemed to be old enough to have fought in the Civil War. Oh well, each to their own I suppose.
So we did our shopping and tomorrow we head for the Welsh Canal, I understand that the signal is pretty dire up there but I'll do my best.

Watch this space..............

The picture of the ducks is quite nice.

2012-01-13T22:57:00.000Z

Sunrise yesterday at Coole Pilate, occasionally a photo' really comes off, I think this is one of them.
This morning was rather different,

a heavy frost and a cold mist over the fields.

As the sky cleared we looked up, everybody was obviously heading off for warmer climes, at one point we counted twenty one vapour trails criss crossing the sky. Like the M25 up there.
We moved down to Nantwich today for a complete restock of essentials, bottle of malt, two litres of Amontillado and a dozen assorted bottles of red. We also bought some sprats, roll on breakfast.
From where we are moored the shortest route to town takes you over the River Weaver and just by the bridge over the river,

there was this pair of mandarins, they look totally out of place on an urban river in the middle of an English winter but they do brighten the place up.
Tomorrow is the food shopping, oh the thrill.

Watch this space.............

A touch of philosophy and some catkins.

2012-01-11T20:24:00.001Z

This should have been on yesterday's post but somehow it was missed. Mind you, as we did absolutely nothing today it does give me an excuse to slip in an extra post. Is it possible that my existence is totally heterotelic? I exist purely to service the blog? I blog, therefore I am? Or as Nietzsche says "A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything."
Now where was I?

Beside lock 10 on the Audlem flight, spring seems to have arrived already, from other reports it seems that the daffodils are racing the snowdrops to be the first spring flowers, English weather, don't you just love it?

Watch this space.............

Struggling on.

2012-01-10T21:41:00.001Z

Despite the ravages of what could possibly have been a severe attack of pneumonic plague (Yersinia pestis) we have survived. New year celebrations were decidedly muted as, despite liberal ingestion of my cough cure, I was not at my best, perhaps there was not enough of the West Indies finest in the mix? By new years day Jill had joined me on my bed of pain and was sounding like a seal calling for another herring but as stores were by now running low we set off for Market Drayton.

Tyrley Wharf was basking in the winter sun as we watered and set off down the lock flight, by the bottom of which we were both past caring.
Having shopped the next day we were then beset by by a howling gale and, for some reason, a lack of 'phone signal. It's usually quite reliable at M.D.but not this time. We decided to spend a few days in the country and headed down to our favourite mooring at Adderley where we were joined by fellow bloggers Moore2Life and Seyella and where we sat out what was possibly the worst gale we have experienced since we moved onto the boat, it even blew the satellite dish clear off the roof.
Four days later and in much improved conditions we felt compelled to move as the water tank was getting low, I must admit we are somewhat profligate in our use of water, a reprehensible trait in boat dwellers.

In the Adderley pound the dredger was hard at work,

the dredgings being moved down the cut and spread on a nearby field.

Should grow a good crop on that next year.
Shopping at Audlem and today we moved on to Coole Pilate where there are now four bloggers, Rock and Roll also being here along with Moore2Life and Seyella.
Jill is still coughing but hopefully we are both recovering, I don't know who passed the bug on to us but if I find out...........!

Watch this space............

A spread of subjects, including a treatise on Man 'Flu.

2011-12-29T21:29:00.000Z

It has been ages since I managed a post, mostly because we have been loafing around the High Offley/Norbury Junction area, I think they must still use smoke signals around here because there is no mobile 'phone signal. Even by hoisting my dongle up on a pole until it was six foot above the boat produced nothing. So here's a quick resume of our doings.

After shopping at M.D. it was off up the Tyrley flight on a fine sunny morning, as we arrived at the top lock fellow blogger Jandai was just coming out and I must apologise because I didn't realise who it was until Jill brought the boat into the lock and told me.
Then into Woodseaves cutting, a far different place to the green dingle alive with birdsong that it is in summer.

The only thing that doesn't change

is the depth of mud on the towpath.
We stopped at The Anchor for the weekend and then meandered down to Norbury Junction where we had arranged a hire car for a couple of days so we could get to a supermarket for our final stock up for Christmas.
We also took the opportunity to nip into Newport, the nearest town, which we had never visited.

Newport church, Butter Cross and almond tree in bloom. Not a lot else except a Waitrose. Being cheapskates we did our shopping at Tescos in Stafford.
We also nipped off to have a look at a church we have passed several times by road, near the M54.

It's in a village called Tong and is amazing, not like your average village church at all.

It had several highly carved tombs,

a side chapel with this chap presiding, just look at that ceiling!

The Choir Stalls are wonderful, carving at it's best, I don't have a date for them but

Simon Wood seems to have carved his name into the wood in 165? This makes it the oldest bit of graffiti we've yet found. A bored choir boy?, it appears to be surrounded by a bishops mitre, a bored bishop? who knows.

On the back of one of the nobs tombs, R.D. seems to have been a prolific graffitieer in 1752.

He wasn't alone. I love these old scratchings, they bring you closer to the people than a thousand preserved castles.
Well, having stocked the food cupboard, returned the car and been ready to settle down for the holiday the oven chose that moment to go belly up. After frantic 'phone calls, much searching of t'internet and one or two turns of purple language Simon, of Norbury Wharf, located a suitable replacement. Needless to say the one we had was no longer in production. It was delivered on the Thursday and Mick fitted it on Friday morning, hows that for service? Chrissie dinner was rescued.
Back to The Anchor, we settled in and Friday night had an evening down the pub. Christmas Eve I started coughing, Christmas Day I was in the grips of a savage attack of man 'flu. Boxing Day the same and it is only now that I am returning to my normal happy go lucky self.
Here is my cough cure:
Take a half pint glass, put in it the juice of one lemon, two teaspoons of honey, two teaspoons of glycerin,(Make sure it is medicinal glycerin, it it has the word nitro on the pack reject it, it has a totally different effect),
and some rum. Top up with boiling water, add more rum to taste. Drink it good and hot. Trust me, it works.
There are many misconceptions about man 'flu, the ladies, bless them, use it as a derogatory term, they do not realise the medical facts about it. When a woman contracts a rhino-virus or an influenza virus it is bathed in a gentle wash of oestrogen and is inclined to sit around chatting about handbags and The X-Factor and occasionally feeling duty bound to gently tickle a nearby mucus membrane. However, when us chaps are attacked by these organisms they are immediately immersed in testosterone and become huge monsters with shaven heads and Doc Martin's, covered in tattoos, wandering around in gangs shouting "Here's a mucus membrane, let's give it a right kicking" and so, alas, we males suffer so much more. However in our usual stoical way we accept this and carry on with ne'er a moan.
We are in Gnosall at the moment, our daughter Cairstine came up for the day with her other half and their offspring. They brought up our pressies, I got a bottle of 1919 Angostura rum, perfect nectar, it will not be going in the cough cure. We had lunch in The Navigation and caught up on the news. A lovely day.
Tomorrow it's back to The Anchor for New Year, now there's a surprise. This does mean that we will be incommunicado again for a while, I hope you don't miss us too much.

HAPPY NEW YEAR.

Watch this space..............

Can't think of a title.

2011-12-13T20:09:00.000Z

The weather did just about permit, on Sunday we came up the Audlem flight in a mixture of pouring rain and light rain. It was not the most pleasant transit but we stopped at Adderley, stoked up the stove and watched the UK snooker final, won by Jud Trump, and a good final it was.
Yesterday we came up the Adderley flight and were surprised to find, in the second pound,

a dredger busily at work, chatting to the lads I found they are working all the way down to the Shroppie Fly, so you see, dredging does happen. Needless to say we stopped at the farm shop at the top of the flight, you should see the size of the Barnsley Chops we bought, and then on to Market Drayton.
Today Jill finished off the Christmas cards.

After finishing the cross stitching they were washed, here are some of them drying, and then attached to the cards. Bless her, she then wrote and addressed them all, what a star.
We want to be up at The Anchor for Sunday but the weather forecast does not look good.

Watch this space.................

Water pumps, ice and junctions.

2011-12-10T17:29:00.001Z

Having survived the gale we set off yesterday along the Middlewich Arm, it's a lovely stretch going through perfect English farmland but is not that photogenic,

somehow views of fields just don't come off that well so we took photo's of the only two outstanding structures,

the old stables, now a des. res. and

the house with the Dutch Gables, just what everyone takes photo's of.
Having moored overnight above Cholmondeston (Does anyone know how that is pronounced?) lock, this morning I bounded out of bed with a merry cry to greet the day as is my wont and then discovered that the water pump had gone belly up and we were getting nothing through the taps, that put the dampers on it. It is lucky that I am a belt and braces man, out came the spare water pump and on it went. As I removed the old one a mixture of water and grease ran out of the body, I think that could have something to do with its demise. Jill then gave me egg and bacon as a reward for not sulking, only swearing a little and actually getting the new pump working.

As we headed to Barbridge Junction we found the first ice of the winter, only a bit of cat ice but, oh well, this time last year we had been iced in for three weeks.

Barbridge junction under a winter sky and then

Hurleston, B.W. have removed the " Canal Closed" sign on the bottom gates so I assume the Llangollen is now open after the stoppages.
At Nantwich we passed Go For It, another blogger, just time for a quick "Hi" and on we went. I think it's a first for us, through Nantwich without stopping.

Hack Green Locks, I know I always take the mick out of the secret bunker but they also have some old stables and

a large chunk of masonry that was obviously part of the lock gate fittings.
Coole Pilate tonight, on through Audlem tomorrow, weather permitting.

Blow blow thou winter wind.

2011-12-08T11:50:00.000Z

Well that was close, yesterday we set off from Middlewich and as we came up the bottom lock there was a B.W. workboat coming down the middle lock, they were on their way to shut big lock as the blocked top paddle needed more work doing on it than had previously been thought and they were draining the cut as far as Croxton aqueduct. Apparently they feel the need to inspect the bed of the canal, for what they did not divulge.
Thanks for the warning Alf but we have slipped through in time.
"Blow blow thou winter wind, thou art not so unkind as mans ingratitude," well that was Shakespeare's opinion,

Jill might not have agreed as we worked through Stanthorne lock in a howling gale with hailstones coming in horizontal.
Today we are sitting in the lee of a hedge whilst the promised weather batters us, there is no way we are moving. Snooker on the red button from 1230 so that will be us settled, unless the wind blows the satellite dish off the roof.

Mostly weather, not much excitement.

2011-12-06T17:13:00.000Z

Well winter seems to have arrived at last, we're still in the Middlewich area but intend heading back to the Shroppie on Thursday.

Last Friday we headed out on the T&M, Croxton Flash seemed to be home base for a number of Canada geese, I wonder what they taste like? The number of them that are infesting the canals they surely wouldn't miss a few.
We moored above the valley of the River Dane,

It winds through the fields

and here there seems to be the remains of a weir, can't see any reason for it at this point on the river but there is definitely a masonry lip between the far bank and the little islet. One more little mystery that probably has a totally mundane explanation, if only I knew what it was.
Today it was back to Middlewich, as we watered below Big Lock the weather decided to add a little entertainment to the day,

up came the clouds and down came the sleet, it made life just a little more interesting.

Top up the victualling cupboard tomorrow and then off.
Struggling for anything of interest today but at least there is snooker on the telly this week.

Fungiphobia.

2011-11-24T19:47:00.000Z

Having a couple of days on the moorings above Winsford Top Flash.

On one side you have a view over the flash

and on the other the main line, sorry it's only a Pendolino, a minute later an old H.S.T. 125 in an amazing yellow livery went through but by then I'd stowed the camera away.
This morning we went off up the towpath for a leg stretch,

more autumn colours and lots of

fungi, unfortunately the camera didn't pick up the brilliant mauve of this one, I think it could be a Wood Blewitt, Lepista Nuda.

and could this be The Miller, Clitopilus Prunulus? Both of those are edible, am I going to eat them? Not a hope, unless it has the name of a well known supermarket on the package there is no way they will pass my lips.
I should like to add an acknowledgement to the Collins Gem Guide to Mushrooms and Toadstools, my sole source of knowledge of things fungal, apart from athletes foot that is.

No idea what this is though, can't find it in my little book.

Watch this space.............

BLUE mesh, the future?

2011-11-22T20:19:00.000Z

First the good news, I remembered which particular bramble patch my lure was hanging in so yesterday when we set off through the murk I retrieved it.

This is Beeston Castle in the murk.
I have just realised that I described myself as an inefficient pike fisherman, I did of course mean incompetent, sorry for that.

With all that width of water you would think there would be at least one pike interested.
We headed onwards

through the two Beeston locks, above the stone lock there is one of the odd little circular lengthsmans huts but the most important thing here is

blue warning mesh. Is this the future with C.A.R.T? A complete break with B.W? I can hardly wait.
We turned off onto the Middlewich Arm and moored above Cholmondeston lock and as we are now in winter routine, killing time basically, we spent the day here. A wander down to the ~~junk~~ antique shop at Venetian Marine was a highlight, lots of badly battered furniture at ludicrous prices, definitely not Antiques Road Show fodder.
Then this evening a rather spectacular sunset,

get a load of the reflection in the cabin side, honestly, Armadillo is not that shiny but I do like the photo'.

Watch this space...........

Pike fishing, huh!

2011-11-19T14:29:00.000Z

Out of Chester yesterday, those five locks coming up are real stinkers, no matter how careful you are with the paddles, no matter in which order you open them you will get blown all about the chamber, each one seems to shoot the water in from a different angle and to add a little variety the bottom lock has one ground and one gate paddle. At least we could get on the waterpoint on the way up as one of the boats had gone.
We moored at Tattenhall and are aiming for at least a couple of days here. I dusted off my pike tackle this morning, sorted out the lures and set off for a spot of predator fishing. At least I only lost one lure, left hanging in the brambles on the off side after an overenthusiastic cast. Never had a sniff at a fish, I appear to be the most inefficient pike angler ever, just the occasional toothy fellah would be more than welcome. Perserverance will pay off, eventually.

Watch this space...........

A circumnavigation of Chester's walls and some disappointing Christmas lights.

2011-11-17T21:39:00.001Z

In all the times we have been to Chester we had never actually walked all the way around the walls in one go so today, after the usual visit to Tescos to top up the store cupboard, we set off.

Kaleyards Gate, so called because in the 13th C. the monks from the abbey knocked a hole in the wall so they could get to their vegetable gardens which were outside. Kale = cabbage. Every night at 2100 the cathedral rings the curfew bell and dutifully locks the gate, as none of the other town gates have been closed at night since medieval times it seems a bit pointless,

but tradition demands it will happen and of course it does.

King Charle's tower, so called as the eponymous king watched, from this tower, the parliamentarians give his lads a bit of a duffing up at the battle of Rowton Moor, 24th September 1645.
The Chester Canal runs alongside this stretch of wall,

the canal builders used the old town ditch as their starting point and simply enlarged it.

Jill emerges from Pembertons Parlour, a medieval tower much knocked about in the Civil War and rebuilt by John Pemberton, mayor of Chester at some time in Queen Anne's reign, he used it to keep an eye on the workers in his ropewalk below the walls, R.H.I.P.

Bonewaldesthorne's Tower, I only put this in because of the name. If the enemy attacked here, by the time you'd shouted a warning as to where the attack was it would be all over.

The Roodee Racecourse,

I thought they raced horses here, I was obviously misinformed.
As you walk on you pass

the remains of Chester Castle,

the Old Dee Bridge and

Chester Weir, built about 1087 and the oldest mill dam in Britain, at one time it powered eleven waterwheels.
Much to my surprise as it approached lunch time we happened upon

The Albion, a favourite hostelry of ours,

with its wonderfully atmospheric interior and a sign outside announcing "This pub is not child friendly, no one under eighteen allowed", music to a curmudgeons ears.
Suitably refreshed we proceeded onward, passing the Roman amphitheatre,

then walking under the clock on Eastgate which celebrates Queen Victoria's diamond jubilee and on to

the cathedral, which brought us back to Kaleyards Gate. It made a most pleasant walk in autumnal sunshine.
This evening we ventured forth to see the Christmas lights,

they were not exactly awe inspiring although

this, outside the cathedral was quite attractive, I have no idea what it is meant to represent but it was different.
Tomorrow we shake the dust of Chester from our feet and set of for.......

Watch this space...........

Christmas shopping is done and dusted.

2011-11-16T17:55:00.001Z

From the moorings by The Lock Keeper pub (Was the Frog and Nightingale, been tarted up, not tried it yet) the quickest way into town is via Kaleyards Gate, now we have gone that way many times in the past and somehow never noticed

this pigeon loft, or dovecot if you're posh, and the notice on it.

It seems that if you wish to feed pigeons in Chester you should come here to do so, I have news for Cheshire West & Chester council, it doesn't happen.
So we wandered off into the city and commenced to shop, an occupation abhorred by both of us but, apart from some gift vouchers, we obtained all the seasonal gifts that we are expected to provide. We also bought, for ourselves, several books, a selection of fleeces and a new t-mobile dongle, faster than the old one and about a third the monthly cost, seems to be working ok. Actually we didn't buy the dongle, it came free with a new contract, can't see the drawback, yet.

This is just to prove that Chester is getting Christmas organised.
Why do we still call it Christmas when what is celebrated now is much closer to the old pagan festival of Yule? The majority of people in Britain never set foot in a church but still celebrate the supposedly christian festival, any excuse for a knees up. It's a fact that more incidents of domestic violence occour over Christmas than any other time of year, people are suddenly thrown together for several days with only The Great Escape and The Wizard of Oz on the telly so, I presume, thumping each other seems a viable alternative. Of course lawyers love it, all those nice expensive divorce cases in the new year.
Who are you calling cynical?
Bah, Humbug!

Watch this space.............

Problems with water points.

2011-11-15T19:52:00.000Z

Since my last post we have wandered down to Chester (again). We topped up the store cupboard at Nantwich, stopped overnight at Calveley and then had a day at one of our all time favourite mooring spots.

Just above Whartons Lock, below Beeston Castle perched on it's rocky outcrop. It is totally rural, at night there is only one light visible from the boat, that's from a BIG house up on the offside of the cut.

It really looks and feels like autumn has arrived.
Today we set off for Chester intending to water at Christleton, well the water point is still there, tucked in by the bridge abutment, unfortunately the bank, never too stable there, has collapsed totally into the cut so there is no way you can get at the water. Glad there is a water point by Chemistry Lock, even though there were two boats moored on it, we breasted up on them and watered, I do love considerate people, I left them a little note thanking them for making life just that bit more interesting.

The water tower appears to be having some work done on it, wonderful bit of scaffolding.
Guess who had beaten us to Chester:

Yes, Santa is already here, oh whoopee!
We arrived just nicely timed to get lunch in The Old Harkers Arms, twelve real ales and some of the best pub grub we've found, pricey but delicious and plentiful, I had the beef, stilton and port suet pudding and Jill had a steak with tarragon butter and all the trimmings. Slept all afternoon.
Saddened to hear that the Red Lion at Cropredy had closed down, was always one of our regular haunts when on the Oxford.
Christmas shopping tomorrow.

Watch this space...............

Around and about Coole Pilate.

2011-11-09T14:43:00.000Z

My dear lady suggested lunch out yesterday so we walked back to Audlem and tried The Bridge, now under new management after a period when it really went down hill. It is a Marstons pub and the menu was bog standard company fare but the gammon I had was top notch and Jill says the steak and ale pie is spot on. Plus the bitter was in excellent condition. We'll put it back on the acceptable list. We also had a pudding apiece so the walk back to Coole Pilate was a bit of a struggle.

As we still have the place to ourselves we thought that another day here wouldn't upset anyone. There were another three boats here overnight but by the time we were up and about they had headed off for places unknown.
We went off for a walk around the lanes:

Coole Pilate itself seems to consist of some scattered farms and associated cottages and this attractive little United Methodist Free Church, now converted to domestic use.
Of course the major site around here is the Secret Nuclear Bunker

which appeared to be up for a change of status, anyone fancy a bomb proof abode? Closer inspection revealed that the for sale sign actually applied to a couple of barn conversions and also up for grabs was the Hack Green Maggot Farm, must be a real problem, rounding up the little wrigglers.

Someone seems to have a thing about Land Rovers, there must be at least one of every model they have made, all in varying stages of decay, it takes all kinds..........
Lastly, large and strange fungus growing on some old wood chippings,

could it be Peziza vesiculosa?

Watch this space.............

Mist, Audlem and "The Slow Train".

2011-11-07T12:27:00.000Z

Sunday morning brought our first taste of cold, I peered out of the window at 0700 and lo! The world was white,

at least that part of it which could be seen was white.
I walked the dog towards the bottom of the locks, I could hear the by-wash splashing but it was a while before the gates loomed out of the mist.

By now the old dog decided that enough was enough and headed boatwards at her best speed so I followed her, it was warmer on board.
By the time the compulsory Sunday morning fry-up had been consumed the mist had cleared and the sun was well up so we set off northwards towards Audlem. As usual the by-washes were giving it some.

But the sun shone, there was no wind and we sauntered down the fifteen seeing only two boats coming up and one ahead of us, November is definitely a quiet time on the canals.

Lock 12, the one above the village pound, that's Jill on the right by the balance beam, the one thing the flight wasn't lacking was gongoozlers, we had an audience at every lock, sometimes getting under our feet and on a couple of occasions borrowing a windlass and giving a helping hand. It's a great way of meeting people.

We stopped at the waterpoint by the Shroppie Fly, a real canalscape, a pub that was a warehouse, a craft shop that used to be a mill and a crane that came from the local railway goods yard, it's very popular though.
The crane reminded me of that wonderful song by Flanders and Swann that lamented the closure of so many cross country rail lines under the dead hand of that arch villain Beeching, one verse ran:

The sleepers sleep at Audlem and Ambergate.
No passenger waits on Chittening platform or Cheslyn Hay.
No one departs, no one arrives
From Selby to Goole, St. Erth to St. Ives.
They've all passed put of our lives,
On the slow train, on the slow train.

If anyone wants to hear the full song it's on You Tube. Brings a tear to my rheumy old eye.

Putting nostalgia aside, we were soon down the bottom of the flight and we are now moored at Coole Pilate with the place to ourselves, Jill is cooking a fresh tomato soup and cross stitching Christmas cards, she is one amazing lady.
Having nothing better to do I'm mucking about on the laptop, hence this post and the verse from "The Slow Train".

Watch this space............

A cake eating lamb and autumn, but no fireworks.

2011-11-06T16:04:00.000Z

It doesn't take long to get from Market Drayton to the top of Adderley locks and Simon and Allisons splendid little farm shop.

If you look closely you will notice the battered remains of one of Allisons glorious Victoria Sponges on the ground, the culprit?

The pet lamb which has appeared in several of the tabloids and is now booked to appear on Blue Peter, fame appears to have gone to his head and he has developed a taste for the finer things in life, perhaps a glass of champers next?

The locks looked beautiful with the autumn colours, shame the autumn leaves that had fallen into the cut kept getting wrapped round the prop, I seemed to spend as much time in reverse as in forward, a quick burst of back'ards usually clears them.
Saturday evening provided us with a sunset display

that easily outshone the firework display from Adderley village, sorry, I wasn't quick enough with the camera to get any pictures of the fireworks.

Watch this space..............

Market day and good? news on B.W. pump out cards..

2011-11-02T19:57:00.002Z

There seems to be a lot of whatever this is being grown around here. Is it one of these bio fuel type things? Answers on a postcard.

Below Tyrley Locks, just by bridge 61, yet more folk art.

Market day

at Market Drayton, we bought garlic and chilli sausages, cod fillets and wild rabbit and watched a stall keeper give a shop-lifter a slapping, well done that man. The fishing tackle stall has gone, sign of the times I suppose.
For those who haven't heard the good news yet: as of yesterday cards for B.W. pump outs are going up from £10 to £14.75, work that out with the rate of inflation. We've cleared the local stockists out at the old rate!
Back into no signal land tomorrow.

Watch this space........

Numbers to play with.

2011-11-01T20:01:00.001Z

This morning Jill pointed out that the date is 1-11-11, in ten days time it will be 11-11-11 and and not to far off it will be 20 11 2011. The numerologists can make of it what they may, personally I don't think it will make a blind bit of difference to what happens but I thought it was mildly interesting.
Anyway my false choppers have been patched, the dodgy filling replaced and my few remaining fangs have been descaled and I still have no love for the dental profession.
Highlight of the day was the purchase of a new shopping trolley in Wilkinsons, how good is that?

Watch this space.............

Horror at the Anchor.

2011-10-31T21:25:00.000Z

We've had to wend our way back to Market Drayton as the nice new top plate I had made earlier this year has cracked, I hate dentists.
Saturday night found us at The Anchor (again), it took a brave man to brave the horrors of the garden,

yes, it was their Halloween party.
Fancy dress was the order of the day.

Kim and Elaine were bewitching behind the bar.

Maggie was looking cheerful but Duck Dave

appeared to be contemplating the true gloominess of the season.
Soon a fine collection of ghouls, ghosts, witches and monsters were joining the clientele.

I'm not sure what was going on here

but it looks like ectoplasm.
But as this was The Anchor it wasn't long before the instruments came out

and the music

began.
Behind all this, quietly making sure everything was perfect was our revered landlady,

the wonderful Olive.
It was all too soon that last orders was called and we all made our way home, most to our boats but some, perhaps, back to the crypt.
Just for information, The Anchor is now on its winter opening hours, weekends only.
Yesterday we moved down to Goldstone Wharf and just next to the bridge was a group of fly agaric,

not a sign of a gnome though, perhaps they had been partying last night.
We have no definite plans for the winter.

Watch this space............

Llamas, straw and a little sunflower.

2011-10-25T15:44:00.000+01:00

It's amazing, the things you find as you wander around the English countryside. We strolled out from Little Onn bridge yesterday, along the towpath and then up onto the lane at Rye Hill Bridge, just by the rather nice house with the gardens coming down to the cut, and in the field by the house were four llamas.

They refused to get together so I could get them all in the same photo' but one

did come over to check on who was passing, he seems to be amused by the sight of us.

Number four decided that striking a noble pose would impress us, I didn't like to disillusion him.

The lane runs alongside a disused wartime airfield, the old perimeter track is clearly visible. It is all now part of a farm which has the biggest stock of straw I have seen.

Miles of it.
Back by the boat we spotted this growing right on the edge of the towpath.

It is definitely a sunflower but only about eighteen inches tall, I reckon someone must have emptied their parrots feed bowl and one seed survived but Jill thinks it is an escapee from a roof top flower tub. We do lead an exciting life, we worry about the provenance of a undersize sunflower. Oh dear.

Watch this space.............

Weather forecasts and art criticism.

2011-10-23T12:49:00.001+01:00

Out of the clutches of Norbury Wharf at last. That is very unkind as they have been brilliant, we now have six domestic batteries, a new fridge and a beautifully blacked bottom, not to mention the fact that I can now remove the batteries without dismantling the entire back end of the boat!
We have decided to spend the winter around here for a change as, according to Waterscape, there are no stoppages booked for the Shroppie this winter although looking at some of the long range weather forecasts nature could be providing her own stoppages, ice, snow and probably a plague of locusts to round it off. The best comment I saw on any of the weather websites was along the lines of "This is Britain, we'll get what we get and anyone who tries to forecast more than a day ahead is just dreaming".
We're having a quiet few days out in the wilds,

The countryside along the Shroppie is pure England at its best. Until we moved onto the boat, as far as I knew, Staffordshire was completely covered in potteries and all I knew about Shropshire was that the correct abbreviation was Salop. Now it feels like home and I love it.

An abundance of berries this year, is this a sign of a hard winter? Probably as reliable as some of the forecasts. They won't last long, the redwings and fieldfares have arrived and are already tucking in. We now have our share of the autumn harvest, two and a half litres of gin are now warmly wrapped around sloes and turning that lovely shade of purple, it'll be ready for Christmas.
I suppose that will be the next thing, Christmas shopping, oh joy. Rather foolishly I mentioned that we could do a trip to Chester, it was immediately jumped on as a good scheme so it looks like we'll be heading back that way soon.

Place to be!
And finally, rural Staffordshire's answer to the Turner Prize.

Welded to a farm gate, it has more artistic integrity than a lot of modern sculpture. (I got that phrase from the Weekend Telegraph arts supplement. Plagiarism? what's that then?)

Watch this space...............

The Wrekin and a Bear.

2011-10-15T20:22:00.000+01:00

As you go down the A518 towards Telford you come across these on one of the roundabouts, it has to be the most extreme road safety initiative ever, my driving improved 100% until I was out of range.
We passed them yesterday on our way to The Wrekin, we thought a gentle stroll up the hill would be a pleasant way to pass an hour or two. Wrong, it was a mind boggling trek up what felt like a vertical mountain.

View from the top with remains of iron age roundhouse in the foreground.

A rather windswept Jill by the triangulation point on top, I was collapsed, gasping for breath like a stranded haddock. By the time we got back down I don't think either of us had a leg joint that wasn't screaming. One of the problems with living on the cut is that walking up hill is a rarity, climbing up The Wrekin was a bad mistake. Make a note, must get ~~fat~~ fit.
Today we went to the R.A.F. museum at Cosforth, unfortunately the warplanes hanger was shut but it was interesting, they had a model of an old friend,

a Tupolev Tu-95 Bear, when I was in the R.N. everytime we went up the North Sea or round the north of Scotland one of these would turn up as escort, we were actually rather fond of them, made us feel needed.
Merlin just starting on the telly so that's all for now.

Watch this space...........

Blists Hill and the most amazing fire extinguisher ever.

2011-10-13T22:58:00.000+01:00

This morning we had a quick look at Armadillo with her nice clean bottom.

Looks like a bad case of measles but there is no pitting at all, pleased with that. Closer inspection though showed that

the anodes were well past their sell by date. No wonder boatyard owners all drive big cars.
After getting in everybody's way we trundled off for a day at Blists Hill Victorian Village, part of the Ironbridge Gorge museum complex.

The remains of the 19thC. blast furnaces are the centrepiece around which they have recreated a complete village

with all the shops and work shops that were there in Victorian times.

If you went through the dry dock at Norbury Junction, followed the derelict canal past Newport and carried on down the old tub boat canal this is where you would end up, next to Blist Hill Mine.

Of all the exhibits this was definitely my favourite, do you reckon it would be acceptable for the B.S.C?

Finally, don't you just love steam? It has a sound and a smell that is all its own.
Tomorrow we'll have to find somewhere else to visit.

Watch this space.............

Armadillo gets her lower bits dry.

2011-10-12T21:53:00.000+01:00

After our time in the wilderness we are now at Norbury Junction with the luxury of Wi-Fi because, while Armadillo is in dock having her nether regions re-coated we are living a sybaritic life in the holiday cottage by the boatyard.
This morning we shifted the boat from the forty eight hour moorings

and up the arm to the dry dock. The dock was originally the first lock down to the Newport branch that led to the Shrewsbury Canal, long closed but with an active restoration society, or two. Nice scheme, don't hold your breath waiting for a trip on it.
Once in the dock it didn't take long before the stop planks were in place,

the dock was being drained and the lads were manoeuvring her onto the blocks.

From the side of the dock the blacking didn't look too bad and I was surprised how little the anodes had eroded.

Considering that they have been on there for five years they are in remarkably good nick.

So there she sits, awaiting the gentle ministrations of the power washer and the first of three coats of comastic.
As we have a hire car for the week we intend making the most of the time by exploring some of the area.

Watch this space...............

It's all a bit draughty.

2011-10-06T20:25:00.000+01:00

As we are now making for Norbury Junction for our bottom blacking we thought it was necessary to keep moving. Yesterday we set off in what seemed to be a howling gale, probably only a stiff breeze but one has to dramatise these events, aiming for Adderley. This meant we had to climb the fifteen locks at Audlem, luckily we were sheltered from the worst of the wind on the way up and there were plenty of boats coming down which meant we just had to nip out of one lock and into the next with a quick wave to the steerer on the boat we were crossing. Mind you one time share and one hire boat seemed intent on proving you can't get a boat into a lock sideways. All was well until we came out of the top lock when the wind caught us and pinned us to the towpath, we managed to get free and battled our way down to the Adderley moorings.

This is a buzzard being mobbed by rooks just over the moorings, why the buzzard doesn't turn round and give them a swift look at his talons I don't know but they always run away, perhaps rooks don't taste that good.
Today we moved on to Market Drayton and again it was a tad draughty. Right now not only is it blowing but it is chucking it down as well.
Tomorrow it's up Tyrley locks and then it's a 3G desert, no signal, and then into the dry dock at Norbury so it may be a day or two before I can put out another post.

Watch this space.

Nantwich and back.

2011-10-04T20:52:00.000+01:00

Yesterday we zoomed down to Nantwich, just to top up the larder.

This is a view at Hack Green locks, looking back at the secret nuclear bunker, nature seems to be highlighting it but let's stick with the secret illusion.

View of the River Weaver in the park at Nantwich, just to prove we went there.
This morning we set off early down to the sanitary station for water and a pump out with our d.i.y. poo pump. It's been a good investment, we're now in profit, having saved more in the cost of pump outs than we payed for the pump. This morning though it decided to develop an air lock which led to a rather smelly interlude, enough said.
We then winded and headed back up to Coole Pilate and found a rather different scene from the weekend,

Not a boat in sight.
One of the purchases we made at Nantwich was some new Kilner jars for the production of our favourite Sloe Gin, our old jars had suffered a sad demise, presumably from a less than gentle connection with a mooring/lock wall/bridge hole; anyway they were in bits in the back of the wardrobe. Luckily we found some new ones and

our first batch of sloes are now steeping in the finest gin. Alright it's actually Morrisons Value Mothers Ruin but the end product is just as good.

By dusk we had been joined by another couple of boats and a half moon was playing hide and seek with the clouds.

Watch this space............

Florida, (Part three) The final mention.

2011-10-02T13:53:00.000+01:00

Just a few more images from Florida and then I'll leave off and get back to the humdrum existence of an old curmudgeon and his lovely wife.

The current Blues Brothers at Universal Studios, just about my all time favourite film.

I don't think you can catch these round here, not on sweetcorn anyway.
I know it's not politically correct but we do love Seaworld,

with it's high flying dolphins and

very splashy killer whales. The trainers don't get in the pool with them anymore since one of them decided to make a snack of its trainer. Sitting in the front few rows ensures a thorough soaking, needless to say Noah and Jonah insisted that was where we sat, it doesn't take long to dry off in the heat.
At Busch Gardens Noah was delighted when he had a chance to feed the lories

even though he was not at all sure about the size of their beaks.
That was our last day and having decided on a final blow out at Mannys Chop House,( best steaks I've ever had), we got stuck in a traffic jam on I4 for four and a half hours and ended up with Burger King, as the poet said "The best laid plans of mice and men".

Final view, the cars and villa, couldn't fault either.
And that was Florida, as everybody is probably totally fed up with it now I promise there will be no further mention so

Watch this space.............

Coole Pilate, Hankelow Mill and Moss Hall.

2011-09-30T21:29:00.001+01:00

Coole Pilate is o.k. but one does need a spot of exercise so after perusing a pamphlet entitled Audlem Walks we set off to explore a bit of rural Cheshire. A trudge along the towpath to Bennetts Bridge(Bridge 80) and we then set off across country to Hankelow Mill

which sits in a little dell with the old mill building

alongside the stream and the old mill pond,

now covered in duckweed but still with some of the water control sluices regulating the flow of water under the mill

and into the large pond in the glorious garden

behind the old buildings. I love the fact that we can stand and enjoy the glory of this garden and I don't have to worry about the weeding.

Next to the mill is the old granary with the millers house up on the hill overlooking the whole scene. An absolute gem, I could almost feel jealous but not quite, I prefer the boat, I'll be somewhere else next week.

Up and over the hill and down to a little bridge and then up the other side of the valley

through a maize field. This isn't sweetcorn, trust me, you wouldn't want to try cooking this on the cob.
We then walked back to the edge of Audlem, cut through a footpath and came out by Moss Hall,

a wonderful early seventeenth century timber framed house.
By the time we had walked back up the cut to Coole Pilate I was feeling a bit part worn, must get more exercise, carrying far too much weight, time to cut down on something, starting tomorrow.
England v. Scotland tomorrow morning, should be a good match. Jill says 0800 is too early to start on the beer, look this is World Cup rugby, better get the ale in the fridge. Come on England!!!

Watch this space............

Mostly around Adderley.

2011-09-29T20:39:00.000+01:00

Coole Pilate mooring, about half a mile from a thumping great 'phone mast, a signal at last.
At the top of the Adderley flight there is a brilliant farm shop and wandering around

you will find their pet lamb. Such is the charisma of this ovine star that it is due to make an appearance in that journal of all things intellectual, The Sun. We hasten to add not page three. At the next lock down I fell over this fellow,

you're never short of company at Adderley.
As an aside we've just dined splendidly on lamb chops purchased at the shop, roasties and runner beans from the stall halfway down the Audlem flight. You can live well on the Shroppie.

The Virginia Creeper cries autumn, the temperature says mid summer, isn't this a wonderful country? It's my theory that we colonised half the world just to get away from the weather.

Adderley Manor, the old squire no longer sallies forth to chivvy the peasantry or decimate the local wildlife, it has been converted into desirable apartments but still dominates the local landscape, a reminder of the days of Merrie England, bring back the maypole, hurrah for Morris Dancing, well perhaps we don't need to go that far.

This spider was trying to seduce the young lady who is just visible behind the leaf on the right. He had a nice succulent fly wrapped up, better than a box of choccies to a female arachnid, and he was twanging the web to tempt her out so he could have his wicked way with her, the cad. Being a man of absolute probity I made my excuses and left.

Back at the bottom of the locks

Saturn went through behind ??? To my shame I can't remember who the motor was.

Perhaps one of the aficionados will be able to identify it.
Mendip went past soon after, obviously on her way back to The Port after her commemorative run from Knighton to Bourneville but needless to say I didn't have a camera handy.

Sea World, that's me at the front of the boat looking really cheerful and exceedingly damp. I'll sneak in a few more bits of Florida as we go along.

Watch this space............

Oh I love t-mobile.

2011-09-28T15:18:00.000+01:00

There's more to come from Florida but, as usual on the Shroppie, the signal from t-mobile is too weak to download a picture. We've had two days at the bottom of Adderley Locks and today we moved on to Audlem. Stopping overnight but we actually only stopped for milk, just too idle to move on and having met idiots all the way down the flight this morning I was starting to lose the will to live.
Having been disconnected from the web for fourth time in ten minutes I am now giving up.

Watch this space..................

Florida. (Part Two). With a real Armadillo and a Dolphin.

2011-09-25T16:06:00.000+01:00

11th September, definitely the best day of the holiday, we went to Discovery Cove, a water park with a difference. On the way in we were greeted by a young lady who was carrying

an armadillo, really cute little beast who wisely stayed curled up. It's the first time I've seen a live one, made my day!
The big thing though was that we actually got to meet a dolphin

and Cindy, for such was the name that had been bestowed upon the animal, consented to give us

a tow across the pool. I believe she demanded extra rations of sprats for having to shift my bulk.

Then we all waved good bye and were left wondering how these wonderful mammals put up with us, if I was a dolphin I think I might drown the occasional human, just for fun.
The main swimming pool at Discovery Cove is an artificial coral reef, salt water and full of reef fish, nearly as good as snorkelling in the sea.
Loved this sign at Universal Studios,

I was well able to fit my backside in it but we saw several who had no chance.
I had intended to finish with Florida today but we have moved on to Adderley and the signal is very poor and it is taking for ever to load so I'm afraid that's all for today.

Watch this space..............

Florida. (Part One)

2011-09-24T14:43:00.000+01:00

There can be no more boring way of travelling than flying, eight hours cramped into seats designed for size zero models. Won't complain though, it got us to Florida.

The first morning, temperature in the eighties and off to

The Magic Kingdom.

Didn't get to meet Mickey but met these two lads, sorry boys I've lost your names but it was great chatting to you.

At Disney Studios Darth Vader never stood a chance against Jonah and Noah. Personally I was going to sign up for the Dark Side, sounds a lot more fun.

Daughter Cairstine got on well with the Starship Trooper. She crocked her leg a couple of days before we flew out. A good tip for visitors to the theme parks, get someone on crutches in your party, you get pushed straight to the head of the queues.

Disney's Epcot, I liked the different shapes, very modernistic.

The monorail has been there for ever but still looks futuristic.

At the back of the British Pub ($8 for a pint of keg beer) there is this structure, last time we were there it actually had lock gates fitted but obviously they've heard about the N.W.C.

Just to prove we went swimming sometimes.
Quick trip to Disney's animal park.

Seems like an advert for insurance

but I don't think this guy was buying it.
When we got back we found that our email account had been hacked and had sent out dodgy emails to all our contacts, careful scanning by an expert discovered more nasties hiding in the laptop than you would think possible, anyway all sorted now, hopefully.
More from Florida shortly.

Watch this space.........

We'll be back soon.

2011-08-31T19:35:00.000+01:00

Norbury Junction and tomorrow Armadillo goes up the arm for a couple of weeks while we swan off to Florida.
According to the radio this morning this has been the coldest summer for eighteen years, can't argue with that.
So we will say au revoir for a couple of weeks, we swap England's cold for the heat of Florida. Hopefully when we get back we will continue to enthrall with the adventures of Armadillo, perhaps we will even have some piccies of Mickey to share, meanwhile,

Watch this space.............

Strange beings and a heron up a tree.

2011-08-28T12:03:00.000+01:00

Friday's planned move never occurred, we woke early to the sound of rain on the roof and so it stayed all day and so did we, no point in getting soaked.

On Saturday we made a really early start, 0630, with the dawn sun highlighting a stubble field. Soon we were at Awbridge Lock with it's fancy bridge parapet

and a dainty little cast iron split bridge,

reminiscent of the Sratford on Avon bridges, the split originally being there so the boatman could pass the towing line through the bridge without disconnecting from horse or boat. This one is neatly placed so that once the bottom gates are open you can't get across it unless you are an acrobat, Jill preferred to walk round.

A bit farther on we passed Roach, last seen on the 20th at Worcester fully laden, they had obviously made their delivery despite low water and were now back at base.
Strange things lurk in the undergrowth along this canal,

little faces leer out from the hedges, from The Bratch to Compton there are a plethora of them. No idea who or why but I suppose everyone should have a hobby.

Jill is over the moon with this one. Amazing how such a big bird can perch on little more than a twig.
At Cut End we realised we had made a mistake, turn round day at Napton Narrowboats, beyond the stop lock it was utter chaos, boats all over the place, I was too busy steering to get any photo's but trust me, do not go there at weekends in the season if you value either you sanity or your paintwork, as I'm well short on both it didn't matter so much.
We moored on the S.U.C.S. moorings by bridge 8 on the Shroppie at 1100, just as the heavens opened.
Today the weather is much the same as it has been for most of the summer, cold, wet and windy.

Watch this space..............

A short paean to the Staffs.&Worcs.

2011-08-25T20:47:00.000+01:00

What a lovely canal the Staffs.&Worcs. is, everything seems to be smaller than on other canals.

Even the tunnels at Cookley, 65 yards, and

Dunsley, 25 yards, are tiny.
At times you are so hemmed in by rock cuttings

and woodlands

that it is almost claustrophobic.

But then you meet the grand engineering of the Bratch.
Overall it's a smashing little canal, we love it.
Tomorrow we're aiming to be on the Shroppie.

Watch this space.............

Wolverley and a legless knight.

2011-08-23T20:33:00.000+01:00

After an entertaining visit yesterday from Aged Aunt and Nunkie, better known as Mo and Ding, impenetrable family nicknames, don't worry, this morning we set off up the Staffs. & Worcs. At Falling Sands Lock there appeared to be some trouble with one of the top paddles.

Being well used to the normal "BW Aware" tape, finding the paddle gear wrapped in a rubbish bag was a worrying advance, has the gear been consigned to the local tip? Perhaps this will become the N.W.C. norm.

Falling Sands Viaduct still strides impressively across the valley, I once saw a train steaming majestically across here, didn't have the camera handy, still live in hopes of seeing another.

Kidderminster Church from the bottom of Kidderminster Lock, just a different angle on a familiar picture.
Having topped up the store cupboard at Sainsburys we headed on up to Wolverley

with it's brick built Italianate church, dedicated to St. John the Baptist, perched on it's rocky prominence. After a steep climb that leaves your face somewhat erubescent you come to the main door

where you can appreciate what a splendid bit of brickying it is.

The interior is plain to the point of starkness but is still pure18th C.

There is one relic from the earlier church, the remains of the effigy of a knight, according to legend he suddenly turned up, shackled, in a local field having been miraculously transported from a Moorish prison after seeing a vision of the Virgin Mary. He is still legless.

From the church down to the centre of the village there is a somewhat steep road that passes the remains of an old smithy

cut into the rock

and with this rather interesting panel set into the stone above it, I have no idea who or what it is, just one more of life's mysteries. A thought, as the church is directly above, could it be St. John?

The car park of The Queens Head seems carved out of the hill and has several rock cut caverns

which could have been workshops during the villages heyday of nail production, or possibly dwellings a la Holy Austin Rock.

There is at least one house built back into the cliff.

Very impressive for a small village, this is the old Court House, it has also been council offices and a school but now seems to be given over to residential use.

The church really does dominate the village.
Tomorrow we intend heading for Kinver.

Watch this space.............

Yee Hah.

2011-08-21T20:28:00.000+01:00

Let's start in a normal world, just across from the Tontine there are some cottages, one of which has the most amazing floral display,

the hanging baskets are just awe inspiring, my last job was in a garden centre and these impress even me.

Now this has a decidedly Tolkienish appearance but is still relatively normal.
It was only when we arrived down at the riverside park that things started to get surreal.

What appeared to be several hundred people were parading up and down

to the alleged music of a chap with a guitar.

Yes, the park was full of line dancers, but things got worse.

Now I suppose that a fondness for country and western music is acceptable but this bloke

was broad Geordie, country and north eastern?

Things were really getting out of hand, full kit and a polystyrene cup of coffee? Nearly as amusing as those who turn up at boat rallies wearing collarless shirts, moleskin trousers and big leather belts.

In the trade stands you could purchase garments of choice, while outside,

what can I say?

Flags flew above the campsite

and the local gunfighter fixed me with a steely gaze, we left before I was called out for a shoot out at the local corral.
After a lifetime of experience people still have the power to amaze me but how dull would life be without enthusiasts, no matter how daft it seems to normal people, for a given value of normal.
We are expecting a visit from aged relatives tomorrow:

Watch this space.............

Up river to Stourport, we seem to have spent too much time here.

2011-08-20T15:33:00.002+01:00

Yesterday dawned fine and calm. As I took the dog for her morning constitutional I looked up and over the rooftops of Worcester,

a hot air balloon floated serenely.
In the basin nb Roach and her butty

were waiting to make a delivery to Viking Afloat in Lowesmoor Basin, remembering how we had scraped the bottom and how deeply laden Roach was I silently wished them the best of luck.
The general opinion is that the lack of water in the lower Worcester & Birmingham is due to the Droitwich taking rather more water than they had bargained for and, as yet, they haven't got the supplies balanced. Personally I think a little dredging would work wonders.
We made an early, for us, start and were soon through Diglis Locks,

Jill stands contemplating the wide waters of the Severn, a bit like bold Cortez upon a peak in Darien although I doubt he had a windlass. Jill is not a fan of rivers.

Out on the river we were soon passing the city with the cathedral towering over the the waters of Sabrina (Poetic name for the Severn, I thought she was a 1950's film start with big parts in several films)

The local swan population was preparing for a hard day scrounging bread off of the tourists

there's hundreds of them, swans that is, not tourists, although I suppose there's hundreds of them as well, I wish I'd never started this, I'm getting confused.

Through the elegant road bridge and a last look back

at the cathedral.
After passing the rowing club and a few large houses we were once again out in the country,

the river winding, placid at the moment, between wooded banks.

Through Bevere Lock and passing

the entrance to the Droitwich, been there, done that.

If you can't make out the name on this cruiser it's called Expensive Hobby.

The board showing which branch of the river to take is behind these bushes, really helpful.
We had a two hour wait at Lincomb Lock as there were divers working above the lock, the water supply to the lock cottage had broken under the river and they had had no water for two weeks, the lockie was not happy. Once through we were soon in sight of Stourport

and up the two staircase locks into the basin where we found a mooring by the water point

and watched the afterglow over the clock warehouse.
This morning we snuck up the lock and grabbed a five day mooring, here until Tuesday.

Watch this space............

Worcester Cathedral, a quick look.

2011-08-17T21:43:00.000+01:00

Today we finished the shopping for our pending holiday in Florida, well I hope we did, all the new clothes I appear to need seem to be costing more than the holiday. I just don't see what's wrong with my shorts, alright they've faded a bit and have a few spots of paint on them but so what? Who's going to be looking at me? It's a holiday, not a fashion show. For any Americans reading this, that's shorts as in shorts, not as in underpants, O.K? We also had to buy suitcases, apparently my old backpack is not suitable.
Well, after having battered the bank card into submission a quiet afternoon looking at the cathedral seemed to be in order.

Do you know you have to cough up £3 for a permit to take photo's in the place? So any of you looking at the pictures had better enjoy them.
The entrance is through The Edgar Tower

and a close examination seemed to promise plenty of graffiti,

1777 was the earliest I spotted and intriguingly

my initials, perhaps in a former life?

Once inside you start to feel dwarfed by the vast space of the nave and quire.

Unlike many cathedrals they haven't cluttered the space with nasty tubular metal chairs. High above you the roof is richly decorated

with all manner of saints etc.

Jill spotted this stone set in the floor, the inscription is miserrimus, she said they must have put it there just for me, she can be very cutting at times.
There are plenty of tombs, as usual,

Edward Edes, he was The Dean from 1597 to 1604.
This pair

were Sir John Beauchamp (Pronounced Beecham) and his wife, apparently they cosied up to Richard the Second which upset some of the other Lords and consequently they ended up under here a bit quicker than they expected, politics was for real in those days.
The really posh tombs were Prince Arthur's,

elder brother of Henry VIII and first husband of Catherine of Aragon, it's in its own chantry chapel,

very upmarket.
My favourite was

King John, a thoroughly nasty piece of work, ended up signing Magna Carta and then losing his crown jewels in The Wash. Also a good friend of the Sheriff of Nottingham and arch enemy of Robin Hood.

The reredos in the Jesus Chapel is a stunning piece of Victorian wood carving while that behind the High Altar is just as breathtaking in marble.

The East Window

and the only bit of half decent graffiti I found inside the building, unfortunately the perpetrator didn't get round to carving a date.

The crypt is the oldest part of the cathedral and dates back to 1084, it is now a chapel for private prayer, a haven of peace.
Our final stop was in the old Chapter House,

where the shades of the old ecclesiastics must gaze in amazement at today's secular visitors slurping tea and scoffing chocolate cake.
All in all it is a beautiful and impressive monument to the human spirit, well worth a visit.

Watch this space.............

What a day!!

2011-08-16T20:55:00.000+01:00

We set off early from Oddingley so we would have this afternoon spare in Worcester, arriving at the top of Offerton Locks at 0800 we met a cheerful dog walker who happily informed us that the pound below the locks was empty, "Bone dry" he said merrily. I found the lockie, "I don't start until half eight" he told us and promptly disappeared. His son then appeared and, windlass in hand, started to let water down because, he told us, fish were dying in the dry pound. His next statement made it clear that he has a great future in B.W. upper management," I don't give a toss about the boaters but there are fish stranded down there." At least water was now going down. When the lockie reappeared he said it would be 1130 at the latest before we could move. Just after midday he let us go into the top lock. We only got stemmed up in one pound, letting down some more water got us afloat again.
From there to Bilford Top Lock we trickled slowly along with only the occasional scrape on the bottom, my fault, I got within three foot of the towpath. After Gregory's Mill Bottom Lock we were in the Lowesmoor Pound and that was fun, just over tick over and scraping all the way. I'm not one to complain but the bottom end of the Worcester and Birmingham is nothing short of diabolical, shallow, reeded and unloved, of course when we become a charity it will all change, yeah, right!
Anyway we made it into Diglis Basin and pinched the last mooring spot and on checking my e-mails Waterscape tells me that Lincomb Lock on the Severn will be closed until the week-end, lucky we're not in a hurry to get up to Stouport.

Watch this space.............

About a long windlass and the best job in the world.

2011-08-15T08:15:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was our first day on our own for a week, I'd just about forgotten what it's like not having a locking crew so we decided that rather than tackle Tardebigge and Brum. again we would go back to Worcester and up the river.

Even the local wildlife was waiting to see how we coped without the crew. The top paddles on the Astwood Flight are real eye-poppers, have your truss ready. Luckily we are the proud owners of the longest windlass I have seen. Don't ask me where it came from, we acquired it at 0600 one morning from the side of a lock where it had obviously been abandoned, a diligent hunt for the owner was all in vain so we have cared for it ever since. It doesn't see a lot of use but on a stubborn paddle it is a best friend.
At Hanbury Wharf one of the local dignitaries was alongside the cut,

it's not every day that you see the local mayor frequenting the towpath,

especially a jovial cove like this. It turned out that there was a twenty-six mile sponsored walk in aid of the local hospice and he was waiting to welcome the exhausted participants. NB. He was not actually walking.
We moored at Oddingley again.

There is a real piece of living history here, it is one of the few manned level crossings left. The crossing keeper sits in his little cabin and when the occasional car turns up, as long as there is no train coming, he pops out and opens the gates and lets the car through, he then shuts the gates and returns to his cabin. That is his job for twelve hours a day. The duty man we spoke to is an artist so he spends his time drawing and painting. I wish I'd found a job like that. He also gets sixteen days a month off, good eh?
Tomorrow Worcester (again).

Watch this space..........

That was the week that was.

2011-08-13T17:59:00.000+01:00

Just a quick summation of the last week, daughter Natalie and Co. arrived last Friday and joined us at Stoke Wharf. Saturday morning we set off, Tardebigge (Accent on the BIG) ahead. The first six locks are officially the Stoke Flight, followed by the thirty of Tardebigge, don't let this fool anyone, they are all one flight!

These are two adjacent locks with a pound of only a few hundred yards between so how are they two flights?
A note for anyone planning to moor in Stoke Pound before tackling the flight, get there early, by 1430 yesterday it was moored boats nose to tail, not a spare space to be seen.

The locks come thick and fast with the top paddles being stiff and heavy but the gates are quite easy, for a given value of easy.

These three stalwarts had no problem with them.

Still the locks come one after another until you see

the old engine house that used to pump water from the reservoir to the top of the flight, it means that all you have left is

the very deep top lock, once the site of an experimental boat lift, it seems the old time boatmen weren't gentle enough with it so it was replaced with this lock.

Also spotted on the flight, I thought all these horrors had been consigned to the black museum of waterways history but two survive at Tardebigge.

The locking crew pose for posterity.
By Sunday we were in Brummagem and Monday we went into town,

The Floosie in the Jacuzzi was running well and we did the family photo

at the Bullring.

Back at the boat it was bubble time,

guess who was having the most fun?
It seems there was a riot in the city centre but the Gas Street area saw none of it, all was quiet.
Tuesday down to the Black Country Museum, a winner with the grandsprogs, especially the fairground.

and Wednesday back to Brum, still all quiet at Gas Street. It was then the trip in reverse, back to Tardebigge, passing the IWA Rolt/Aickman memorial,

now looking a bit shabby, down the flight and this morning we bade farewell to the family and life is now back to normal. We've had a great week.

Watch this space..............

B.W. continues to amaze.

2011-08-04T14:44:00.000+01:00

It was a long hot day yesterday, we had to go down Sidbury Lock for water and to wind, it was a bit disconcerting with this lot

peering over the wall at us, not sure whose side they're on.
Below the lock

this is about all that is left of the Royal Worcester factory, is there any industry left in Britain?

Had to have a picture of the well known railway bridge with the hole in it, it was built like that to provide a photo' opportunity for narrow boaters, or was it something to do with weight reduction?
We plodded on up the cut until I was given a chance to do a George Formby impression, you have to be British and in a certain age group to appreciate this.

Here I am with "My Little Stick Off Blackpole Lock". Oh well, please yourselves.
All the locks were in our favour and we only saw two other boats on the move until we came to Offerton Locks, we passed a hire boat coming down and slipped all unconcerned into lock thirteen, I then noticed that lock fourteen wasn't just full but water was pouring over the bottom gates, on investigation I was told that B.W. were running water down because the pound below lock seven was totally dry, I pointed out that we had come up and although all the pounds were a bit low none was dry. "No", I was assured, "that pound is dry" and the water continued to pour down. Net result was that we were held up for an hour and the long pound is now so low we scraped bottom this morning as we continued our journey. I had a poke along our hull today and couldn't find any wheels so how did we get through a "dry" pound? The ways of B.W. passeth all understanding.

Here's another super wheeze, when the bridges start to fall apart don't bother fixing them, just nail lots of plastic mesh over them to stop the bits landing on boaters heads, not that there will be many boaters up this way soon,

I reckon one more seasons reed growth and all that will get up here will be canoes and possibly "The African Queen".
Tomorrow the other grandsprogs and parents arrive for a week, posts may become infrequent but,

Watch this space.............

.

A long night and a quick look at Worcester.

2011-08-02T20:02:00.001+01:00

What an interesting night we had last night. The moorings by the Commandery, while pleasant enough, don't give you a clear shot at the T.V. satellite so no telly. It must have been bell ringing practice as the cathedral bells were ringing out most of the evening and with Classic F.M. and a good book telly was not missed. About 2230 we decided it was bedtime and then discovered an interesting phenomenon, the boat had taken a decided list to starboard making it difficult to get out of the chair. On investigation we found that the pound had dropped by the best part of two feet and we were firmly aground. Much pushing and shoving failed to get us afloat. Checked the lock and found it was not leaking but realised that the back pump was running but no water was coming up from the basin. Now B.W. came to the rescue, it was past midnight by now but a call to their emergency number and in under an hour two of their finest turned up to investigate, it turned out that the pump intake was blocked so no water was coming up but the pump on the next lock up was still running and was sucking the pound dry. It is the first time I've heard of a pound draining into the next pound UP. We finally got to bed about 0230, felt pretty shattered this morning. All pumps are now sorted and running properly.
Worcester, motto Civitas in Bello et Pace Fidelis, was the site of the first and last battles of the civil war and remained loyal to the king throughout.

The Commandery, originally a medieval hospital, was the Royalist H.Q. during the Battle of Worcester and Charles II watched the battle

from the tower of the cathedral. He lost and had to nip off to France for a while, on the way he spent some time up an oak tree which is why we have lots of pubs called The Royal Oak.

This is a statue of him on the Guildhall,

a most elaborate structure on the High Street. This is the building in which the Oddingley murderers were tried, how about that for continuity?
Friar Street that runs parallel with High Street has a wealth of timbered buildings,

but to me the real architectural gem is The Eagle Vaults.

Just look at the glazed tile work,

while inside the old back bar is still there, complete with clock.

virtually a complete Victorian city pub. The beer and sandwiches were pretty good as well, what more could you ask?
Tomorrow we're heading back up towards Brum. as we have more family coming on Friday for a week.

Watch this space...........

Murder most horrid.

2011-08-01T21:09:00.000+01:00

Oddingley, a quiet scatter of buildings in the Worcestershire countryside,

dominated by the mellow grey stone church and the ancient half timbered farmhouse. A scene of bucolic charm. But on the 24th of June 1806 the even tenor of life was shattered by the brutal murder of the Rev'd George Parker, Rector of St.James Church, shot and clubbed to death in his own clover field. Appointed to Oddingley in 1793, by 1799 he was in dispute with his parishioners over the amount to be paid in lieu of tithes. Thomas Clewes, John Barnett, George Banks and Samuel Evans in particular openly voicing their dislike of the rector.
After the rector was shot the murderer was seen to escape towards Trench Woods and was not caught. The local magistrate made the preliminary enquiries (This was in the days before organised police forces) and it appeared that the likely culprit was Richard Hemming, a carpenter from Droitwich, a man with a reputation for violence, who had been hired to do the job. A search failed to find Hemming and it was assumed that he had got clean away. Without him the accessories could not be charged and the furore died down.
In 1830, during the rebuilding of a barn on a farm once tenanted by Clewes a skeleton was discovered buried beneath the floor. The skeleton was identified as that of Hemming by a carpenters rule found with the body, it was clear he had been murdered to silence him.. By now Evans had died but after a coroners hearing Clewes, Banks and Barnett were sent to Worcester Assises on charges of aiding and abetting Hemming's murder. The case was heard before Mr. Justice Littledale but, on a technicality Clewes was found not guilty and the case against the others was dropped and so the horrid tale of the Oddingley murders came to an unsatisfactory end.

St. James Church still stands,

with it's medieval stained glass of kings and saints,

it's 16th C. wooden pews

and the bracket to hold an hour glass to let the preacher know when he had droned on long enough.
I doubt most people who pass through the hamlet have any idea of the bloody deeds that took place here two hundred years ago, it keeps it's secret well.
Who knows what Worcester, faithful city of the Civil War, will reveal.

Watch this space...............

The Droitwich, part three.

2011-07-31T21:29:00.000+01:00

I hope nobody is getting bored with the Droitwich? Good.
We're now up to Wednesday which was set aside for a look at the town. It has a reputation for crooked buildings,

it turns out to be well deserved and the villain of the piece?

This is Tower Hill brine pump, brine has been taken for centuries from below the town which is now subsiding into the empty spaces that are left.

The boys were more impressed with the playground in Vines Park, once the centre of salt production but now a lovely open space with the canal running through it while the church,

blackened from centuries of smoke, overlooks park and town. Even the tower of this august building has a bit of a lean to it.
The bad news is that the Barge Lock that is situated in the park has been adopted by the local youth as a playground and while we were there a boat that chose to moor in the park rather than the basin was set adrift over night.
Thursday morning saw us set off through the park and the Barge Lock,

this has a footbridge across it that needs to be swung before you take your boat in. We had no problem negotiating the lock as the river was so low it was making a level.
We were now on the River Salwarpe

and nigh on scraping the bottom.

Not the most attractive stretch, the river was used to connect the Junction and Barge Canals as the original cut was built over during the time the canals were closed.
You now come to the high (or low) light of this stretch, the M5 culvert.

When they say it is low they are speaking the truth, if the water had been another inch up we would not have got through. Once through you come to the new locks, they are stark concrete

with no wing walls, best make sure you line up properly or it will be a nasty crunching noise. Nature hasn't started to cover the scars left by construction

but it's not long before you return to a more mellow set of locks at Hanbury.

These locks have working side ponds that the lockie works to save water, definitely needed when we were there. Just beyond you come to the junction,

under the bridge and you are on the Worcester and Birmingham.
As for the Droitwich; it's a lovely canal even if the middle bit is somewhat bare, don't miss it but do make sure you are low enough to get through the M5 culvert.
We are now at Oddingly, scene of a gruesome murder in the 19th C. More about the Oddingley murders soon,

Watch this space.................

The Droitwich, part two.

2011-07-31T07:51:00.000+01:00

Above lock two there is a plentiful supply of duckweed,

although it doesn't go on for long because,

once under the main road you find that

the duckweed has been replaced by reeds,

even the bridges are hiding in them. Although it is called a barge canal I wouldn't recommend it for wide beam boats, they would have trouble getting through the reeds, let alone passing anything coming the opposite way. this does not stop this being a lovely stretch of rural canal, we were well taken with it.

The wildlife has it well colonised, we saw plenty of dragonflies, small brown birds in the reed beds and numerous anglers hunched over their rods, these are not an endangered species.

At Salwarpe there is a surprisingly sharp left turn and then what must be the highest road bridge on this cut, if you are gawping at the local church,

as I was, it can catch you out, nearly didn't make it.
As you approach Droitwich there are two railway bridges close together,

the second of which is more of a pipe than a bridge,

the offside continues to curve below the water so your best bet is to stay tight to the towpath or else you will be scraping along the bottom.

The mooring basin at Droitwich is spacious, pleasant and secure, B.W. key required for access. It was also half empty of boats, with all the hype I thought it would be packed.
We tied up to one of the jetties and the boys insisted, once again, on a spot of the piscatorial art,

there are some nice roach in the basin.
After dinner we had a few hands of Happy Families and they were packed off to bed, determined to explore the town the next day.

Watch this space...............

The Droitwich, part one.

2011-07-30T20:06:00.001+01:00

The grandsprogs arrived and after a trip to the fair, compulsory once they spotted the big wheel, we went back to Armadillo and settled down to a spot of fishing,

then we decided on an early night and an early start.

Bright and early we were off down the locks into the Severn, they call the basin between the two staircases Brindley's Joke because you cannot do a straight run from one set to the other, well he had a good laugh this morning.

Soon out on the river and down through

Lincomb Lock, this bit of river is beautiful, wooded and secluded

although Edward Elgar takes up a bit of space.
Turning onto the Droitwich was a doddle but if there was a bit of current running it could be a bit problematic.

Above lock #2

we were met by a B.W. worker who passed on the good news that the idiots had drained the five and half mile pound on the Worcester & Birmingham, effectively shutting the top end of the Droitwich. This presented us with a real zugzwang, go on and possibly be unable to get out the top or reverse down two barge locks and back onto the Severn, we decided to head on.

Watch this space..............

Stourport bursts into life.

2011-07-23T20:35:00.000+01:00

As the grandsprogs are arriving on Monday we decided to stay put at Stourport, well there are many worse places to idle away a few days. Up until today it had been a peaceful sort of place, apart from the traffic, crossing the road anywhere around here is a gamble, whether you reach the opposite pavement or the great beyond is a matter of speed and luck. But today was the first day of the first weekend of the school holidays and suddenly

the car parks were full, the bouncy castles littered the park and

the crazy golf heaved with trippers.

If you wanted a balloon

or an ice cream they were there,

while the scent of hot dogs wafted along the waterfront.

Some went for the fun of the fair while the more contemplative

settled for a trip on the Skylark or

hired a drive yourself motor boat.
We felt that a quiet walk was called for so we set of, hopefully leaving the fleshpots behind us but the riverside path took us through

packed camp sites, past the quaintly named

Well it's different. As we approached yet another caravan site

We decided that enough was enough and that it was all a load

of old bull anyway so we retraced our steps.

I was pleased to get a photo of this small copper on a patch of ragwort.
Back at the basins the gongoozlers were studying the skills

of the boats transiting the staircase locks while in a quiet corner

a corvette was ensuring that no U-boats were lurking.
Stourport has certainly woken up.

Watch this space..............

At Stourport.

2011-07-20T20:17:00.000+01:00

Apart from the noise of the work being done refurbishing Sainsburys all was quiet last night, in fact I don't think anyone went up the towpath after 1900 so we survived our night in Kidderminster with nothing but the Canada geese

to disturb us, 'orrible things, the towpath is thick with their droppings, yeuch.
But this morning, after a fine kipper for breakfast, we dropped down the lock and into the tunnel under the road, this has always been a dark and dreary spot but now they have brightened it with a new mural.

It seems to consist of several pictures of Barak Obama, at least it's better than the old grey concrete.

Caldwall Lock has an impressive rock overhang at the top and at the bottom the amount of rubbish our prop. picked up was equally impressive, a sock, a length of boot lace, a pair of swimming trunks and a length of fishing line with a leger weight still on it, well that'll come in handy. Also the compulsory plastic carrier. Five minute down the weed hatch and that was sorted but my nice clean shirt was looking a bit scruffy, oh dear.
A bit further down we passed the site of Pratt's wharf

where there used to be a lock down into the Stour,

the boats worked down the Stour to the Wilden Ironworks, now just a distant memory.
At Stourport the old gasworks basin, recently re-dug as part of a housing development looks splendid, but sadly underused.

The Tontine has really been smartened up but of course it is no longer an hotel

but a development of "Exclusive town houses and apartments". It still overlooks the river and the old barge locks.

Of course the one thing that changes little

is the fun fair, welcome to Southend on Severn.

Watch this space..............

Kidderminster.

2011-07-19T20:38:00.000+01:00

Change of plan #76, or something. Grandsprog warning in force, arriving next Monday. Need to ensure supplies etc. means we will be on the Staffs.&Worcs. for a few more days. Ho hum.
Anyway, today was Kiddie, shopped at Sainsburys and then had a wander up into the town, took the obligatory photo' of the church,

on the rock above the, unused, 48 hour moorings. Over time we have heard it said so many times that you can't moor in Kidderminster, not safe. We are moored by Sainsburys and will be overnight, we refuse to be intimidated by rumour, if more boats stopped here there would no longer be a problem. There again there is absolutely nothing to stop here for, it must be one of the most depressing town centres anywhere. Crossing the main road to get from the canal to the shopping centre involves negotiating no less than seven sets of traffic lights and when you eventually manage it there is nothing but concrete,

To give you some idea, this is the most attractive street, sad isn't it?
There is a statue of Rowland Hill,

creator of the "Penny Post." Anyone remember when you could post a letter and it would arrive the next day? Well I suppose email has taken that over.
Best bet is to brave the traffic,

take another photo' of the church and get back on board.
I will let you know if we survive a night here.

Watch this space...............

It all gets a bit rocky.

2011-07-18T20:30:00.000+01:00

Having overstayed at Kinver we felt we really should move on so when the rain stopped this morning we untied and set off, we're still aiming for the Severn but "The best laid plans o' mice and men" as someone once said. The banks of the cut on this stretch are overwhelmed with Himalayan Balsam,

a pernicious foreign invader, but the air was heavy with the perfume of meadowsweet,

a native of these isles and in the past used as a strewing herb, that means it was chucked on the floor to keep the place smelling nice, it was the favourite of her maj. Queen Elizabeth the First. On a warm day the smell can be overwhelming, today, well you could just about smell it.
We were now well and truly in the land of red sandstone,

the canal is narrow and cut through the rock, the rock face overgrown like something from a Tarzan novel.

In places it becomes a tight squeeze, no idea what happens if you meet someone coming the other way.
At Cookley the canal burrows under the main street,

luckily it is wide enough here for boats to pass, you just have to wait for the boat coming the other way to clear the tunnel.
Hardly have you passed through the tunnel when you come to Debdale Lock,

hewn from the living rock. Alongside the lock is an intriguing cavern cut into the cliff,

some of the guide books describe it as boat horse stable,

but unless the horses could leap the lock or possibly walk across the lock gates there is no way you could get a nag across to it.

Inside there is a ledge carved out around the sides, it looks very much like a seat but why would you have a large room with seating on a relatively remote lock? My guess is utterly mundane, it's the lengthsmans store and restroom.

Once you leave the lock you're back into cuttings,

woods,

and woods and cuttings.
We were only too happy when we arrived at Wolverley Lock and the eponymous pub,

we went in for a beer and a sarnie but they were having a "Fish week" so I ended up having Monkfish Thermidor and Jill had the fried haddock, despite a mix up with the orders, mostly my fault, the meal was superb and the beer was top notch. The veg. was from their garden, courgettes and runner beans, you couldn't get it any fresher. This afternoon was spent snoozing, nothing new there and the debate is now a). A bottle of plonk on board or b)Back up The Lock for a beer.

Watch this space..............

Holy Austin and Baby Austin.

2011-07-17T21:06:00.002+01:00

Despite the rain we decided that cabin fever was getting to us so we donned coats and set off to investigate the rock houses at Holy Austin Rock. The dwellings were built, or dug, in the 18th C. the first positive mention is in the 1770's.

After a twenty-five minute hike from the canal you get you first glimpse of the restored house above the cottage gardens and then a sharp climb up a long flight of brick steps brings you to

the front door. National Trust £2.99 to get in. Originally the houses were on three levels but the middle level is now derelict.The restored house is on the bottom level. Inside there are two restored rooms,

the kitchen, complete with black leaded stove. The seated lady is a N.T. guide, not a latter day troglodyte.

The bedroom has a sewing machine, a fire and a candle, very snug. The chimneys are tunnels up through the rock,

as can be seen from this view inside one of the derelict houses. Apparently the children on the higher levels used to take great delight in dropping things down the chimneys of the lower houses.

This is the interior of one of the houses on the top level, it must of been a proper little community in it's day.

The original water supply, although later they got piped water, a stand pipe on each level, and eventually a gas supply.

On the top level there were three cottages, the back rooms are in the rock and the fronts are built out with local stone. These cottages were occupied until 1963 when they were condemned as unfit for human habitation and the last inhabitants were rehoused. What you see now are reconstructions and they now house the tea room. We had a cuppa and a wedge of cake.
We walked back along Kinver's attractive High Street,

with the church

looming above. As far as I was concerned it could loom all it liked, I was not going to climb up there in the rain.
At the end of the High Street this little beauty appeared,

a Baby Austin, I couldn't have rounded off today's post better if I'd planned it.

Watch this space...............

Kinver in the rain, mostly a moan about the weather.

2011-07-16T20:03:00.000+01:00

What a lousy day, it p-p-p-persistently p-p-p-poured down, every now and then the sun would come out and as soon as you opened the boat up down it came again. Not a happy crew, Jill has a throat infection and is shovelling probiotic yoghourt down, she swears it's good for sore throats and fellow blogger Takey Teezey uses it to keep his effluent tank smelling sweet, must be truly wonderful stuff. Personally, if I'm going for an edible dairy product I'll have a gurt big dollop of clotted cream, proper 'ansome.
Now these have got to be the best garden gates ever on a lock cottage.

Hyde Lock, ten out of ten to the inhabitants of the house.
About the only other thing of note on yesterdays trip was Dunsley Tunnel

although it hardly deserves the epithet tunnel, more like a long bridge.
Well we are at Kinver and I have no intention of moving until it stops raining, wonder what it's like here at Christmas?

Watch this space............

Mink, flowers and the Devils Den.

2011-07-14T20:58:00.000+01:00

It's great having a lockie to help on The Bratch, it's not actually that complicated but having someone to shout at you when you mess it up is reassuring. As we worked through this morning one of the local residents came for a nose around,

it's a mink, nasty little beasts. It showed no fear of us and just went on it's way. Jill suggested a pair of gloves but it'd pushed off by then.
All the locks along this stretch have bridges across the tail, makes for easier working, they all seem to be of different design,

this one, at the bottom of Botterham Staircase is a nice example of cast iron work while the one at Gothersley

is just a slab of concrete.
The garden of the lock cottage at Greensforge was just a riot of colour, dahlias of every hue.

There was also a lovely veg. plot but that's out of shot to the left, use your imagination.

Below Gothersley Lock is the site of a circular toll house, originally the same as the one that still exists at Gailey. This one was demolished long ago, the site now marked by a circle of brick.

The canal is now dominated by the red sandstone that is such a feature of this stretch, the same stone that is a feature of the Shroppie at Gnosall and Tyrley.

If you peer closely you can just make out the entrance to the Devils Den, now all nicely blocked off by B.W., either because it was being used by drug addicts or because it's used by bats, they don't seem sure which.
It seems it was originally a boat-house, all I can say is they must have been very small boats.
We've moored for the night at Stourton Junction,

at the bottom of the Stourton Locks.

We're aiming to stop at Kinver tomorrow, if there is room to moor.

Watch this space..............

The Bratch and Wombourne.

2011-07-13T21:26:00.000+01:00

We had plans for today but as usual they didn't work out. Normal start and on to Dimmingdale Lock.

I'd forgotten what a lovely canal this is. The next lock was Ebstree where there is another circular weir,

except this one isn't quite circular, same principle though.
It was not long after this that things went awry, we arrived at The Bratch, moored next to

a six foot thistle and decided to have a wander around, just a recce before moving on.

There is the octagonal toll office at the top,

and what appears to be a three rise staircase but, as we all know, it actually consists of three separate locks

with the bottom gates of one only feet from the top gate of the next.

The water from the higher lock runs off along a channel

and into a side pond that saves the water for the next lock down. It's another solution to prevent the waste of water that goes with a staircase.

It's rather impressive as the locks fill.
Having explored The Bratch we decided that a short wander up to Wombourne was in order, along the towpath to the wonderfully named

where there is yet another variation on

the (almost) circular weir and then on to Giggetty Bridge. Wonderful names they have around here. After ploughing our way through interminable housing estates we arrived at the Wombourne shops. It is not the most interesting village we've ever been to.
On the way back to the boat, via yet more housing estates, we passed the old waterworks pump house, they used to have a weekend when the old steam pumps were run to public delight. Can't do it anymore, health and safety etc.

Can't get a decent picture of it as it is hidden by trees.
By the time we were back onboard and had had lunch we couldn't be bothered to move so we are still at the Bratch. Tomorrow?

Watch this space.............

Staffs. & Worcs., day one.

2011-07-12T16:07:00.000+01:00

It's four years since we headed down this stretch of canal. We were away by 0800 this morning and made our way up to Cut End where we watered and I took the opportunity to obtain a new Nicholson's Guide (2) Severn, Avon & Birmingham. We rarely buy new guides but our old one was printed on parchment and had "Here be dragons" in the margins.

Just by the stop lock is the old lockies cottage, lovely old building but now surrounded by that wonderful sewage works that keeps the Shroppie flowing with it's outfall.
A right turn under the bridge and we were off down the Staffs. & Worcs., soon passing Aldersley Junction,

just nip under the bridge, up twenty-one locks and you're in Wolverhampton.
Someone had been busy on the railway viaduct:

when does vandalism become art? I think this is definitely art.
The kids at Wildside Activity Centre were clearly enjoying themselves.

When I asked if they were having fun there was a shout of agreement, the next generation of boaters perhaps.

At Compton Lock we met the first of the circular weirs that are a feature of this stretch of canal. We also found that when you raise the ground paddle the small hole visible under the balance beam turns into a fountain, unfortunately, as I whipped up the paddle, Jill was in the process of raising the gate paddle.

Now I tried to keep a straight face as a jet of water shot up and hit her in the nether regions but I failed miserably. Hopefully I'll be allowed back on the boat before it starts to rain.

Watch this space.............

Just an update.

2011-07-11T10:24:00.000+01:00

Hopefully things have now settled down and normal service will be resumed as soon as possible: except that T-Mobile is having a funny turn, we are at bridge eight on the Shroppie, normally a good signal as long as the dongle is attached to a three foot dowel and mounted on the roof. Today the signal, although showing as very strong, keeps suddenly disappearing and disconnecting me. Well I hope it's T-Mobile and not my all singing all dancing extension lead that enables me to hoist the dongle into the upper reaches.
Anyway, since getting back to the boat we have not done a lot, The Anchor for a couple of days, very quiet, indeed the whole canal is much quieter than usual for this time of the year. Then Brewood for one of Sam's curries at The Curry Inn, King Prawn Tawa, superb.
Tomorrow we're onto the Staffs. & Worcs. and heading for the Severn, not been that way for four years so it will seem like an exploration. Just been disconnected again so will give up for the day so,

Watch this space..........

More Moor.

2011-07-09T08:00:00.001+01:00

As we are still on the southern half of the Shroppie and I seem to have done that to death this year I thought some more from our weekend in Plymouth might be acceptable.
Last Monday was a real scorcher so we thought a nice walk in the woods would be acceptable. On the edge of Dartmoor is Burrator Reservoir which is largely surrounded by woodland, a mix of conifer plantation and broadleaved wood and that is where we headed.
At the side of the car park at Norsworthy Bridge there is a reminder of the moors industrial past.

It's the wheel pit of an old blowing house and the pile of stones at the back is the embankment for the leat which powered it.

Of the house itself very little remains, just a bit of the back wall and a soggy hollow. It is believed to have been one of the last working blowing houses but there seem to be no records of it, not even a name.
On the flat area above the car park was evidence of a modern industry,

logging. There are large areas of the moor under conifers.
Walking up beside the River Meavy brings you to Leather Tor Bridge,

the last clapper bridge to be built and unusual in having a parapet, Victorian health and safety?
As you cross the bridge and walk up the old track

you come to

the old potato cave, now nicely gated for our protection. Times past it was where the people of Leather Tor Farm would store their root crops through the winter. All the farms in the area were abandoned when the reservoir was built and all that remains here

are a few walls. a few hundred yards further you come across Devonport Leat,

built in the 1790's to carry water from the moor down to the town of Dock, now called Devonport, to supply the town and the Royal Navy. It now supplies the Walkhampton area and the excess goes into the reservoir.

A little way along there is a well preserved cist, a bronze age burial chamber

and also a medieval cross, the shaft on this one is a later replacement but the top and the socket stone are original. There are many of these on the moor, way markers from an earlier time. I think this one is called Lowery Cross but I'm open to correction.

You also get a splendid view of the reservoir. It's then all down hill to the bridge over the Meavy

and a quick paddle

for tired feet in Newleycombe (Nillacomb) Lake,( On the moor a "lake" is a small stream) and you're back at the car park..
It feels like I've just written a guide book to South Dartmoor, so to all those looking for narrowboats, sorry.
Addendum: Further research reveals that the cross is indeed Lowery Cross, a.k.a. Cross Gate Cross and is on the ancient track from Walkhampton via Fox Tor to the Holne/Buckfast area.

Birthday treats.

2011-07-07T08:19:00.000+01:00

Seems forever since I updated the blog. It has been a busy weekend, celebrating a certain birthday, let's just say I have now reached official retirement, having just been loafing for the last five years. I was given the choice of treat so I opted for steam

and a trip on the Dart Valley Railway. I know it is only Great Western but there isn't a preserved Southern line handy to Plymouth. Duty engine was 1369,

one of a class of small pannier tanks built for working in places with tight curves. They're unusual in having outside cylinders, end of anorak bit.
It's strange but two small people

just love a train ride, I suppose it's a complete novelty. They also like what's at the end of the ride,

a rare breeds farm with lots of animals to feed and pet.

The young goats were a particular hit. Note the duck apparently tip-toeing away in the background.

Eggs and bacon.

Back at Buckfastleigh we watched the engine take on water and then it was home with two weary grandsprogs.
Saturday was very hot,

so it was out paddling pool whilst

the elderly dozed in the sun.
Sunday started with a trip out to the Plymouth Harley dealership,

I'm only allowed to dream these days, the 'bikes had to go when we moved onto the boat but it was a fair swap. Meanwhile, back at my daughters preparations were in hand for a barbecue, great success, I was not expecting the arrival of several friends I had not seen for a while and was definitely knocked backwards when bruvver Rob turned up.

There was a splendid cake, courtesy of daughter Cairstine and

a chance for the grandsprogs to get together, even if they were not keen on sitting still long enough to get a good picture.
Thank's to everyone who helped make my birthday really special.
Especially Natalie who did all the organising.

Dartmoor.

2011-06-30T20:16:00.001+01:00

Safely in Plymouth. We went for a drive up onto Dartmoor today, a stop at The Plume of Feathers at Princetown was deemed essential as part of any trip to that esteemed town.

This was always the walkers pub, full of damp people with mud on their boots and coats that steamed in front of the fire, noted for excellent beer and hearty food such as hamburgers and chips and the good old west country staple, the pasty. Today it was full of smartly dressed, elderly couples indulging in a Trio of Smoked Fish and Roast Pork Belly with apple mash at eye watering prices. Mind you the beer was still good and the food was excellent, just that the whole atmosphere was gone, shame but I suppose that's what they call progress.
Other buildings remain,

this is the High Moorland Visitor Centre, originally the Duchy Hotel and then the prison officers social club, certainly had a varied life. Of course one building dominates the whole town, indeed it is the reason for the towns existence,

Dartmoor Prison, long the most feared gaol in the land, now just cat.C prisoners and all the comforts of home.

The entrance to the infamous quarry where those miscreants sentenced to hard labour would spend long days pointlessly reducing blocks of Dartmoor granite to gravel just using sledge hammers, now long disused.

Just a couple of the many Tors that are such a feature of the high moor, weathered stumps of ancient volcanic activity and off in the distance

the conical hill of Brent Tor with the tiny church of St. Michael de Rupe perched on top.

I borrowed this picture, but it gives an idea of the size. The hill is solid granite and in the past they had to use gunpowder to blast the graves as digging was impossible.
We stopped at Pork Hill car park for an ice cream and to take in the view, on a clear day you can see far into Cornwall,

unfortunately today was not overly clear.
Since moving onto Armadillo Dartmoor is about the only thing I really miss, its thousands of years of human habitation has shaped but not altered the brooding presence that is The Moor.

Watch this space.........

Norbury Junction (Yet again).

2011-06-27T14:05:00.000+01:00

We had our curry at Brewood (Pronounced Brood) and moved on toward Norbury Junction,

over the A5 aqueduct

we passed the boatyard where this shell has resided for at least four years. I think if it was fitted out it would make a brilliant boat, shame, just checked my pockets, not enough small change to do it.
Through a typical Shroppie cutting

to Wheaton Aston where, as we worked through the lock, it started to chuck it down, again. We stopped below the lock to water and when we left I took this photo',

yes it is the services block at Wheaton Aston and IT WAS FULLY FUNCTIONAL. We also passed this boat,

the idea is, that by camouflaging half the boat, B.W. will be confused as to its length and the licence will be cheaper! No? Oh well.
Sunday was spent at Little Onn, hottest day of the year and not before time.

The day ended with a truly spectacular sunset, these pictures do not do justice to the colours.
Now at Norbury, weather is hot, sticky and trying to rain with thunder storms forecast, back to normal then.

We went down the cafe for a bacon butty when we arrived and, as we crossed the bridge, we could hear the wonderfully syncopated beat of a Bolinder approaching, it was

Spey, one of Clayton's old tar boats.
Tomorrow we put Armadillo up the side arm and on Wednesday we pick up the car and off to Plymouth, so posts may be a bit irregular over the next week or so.

Watch this space............

Poppies.

2011-06-23T17:42:00.000+01:00

Is this deja-vu? We are back at bridge eight in the Shroppie, year plan A is definitely a dead duck. Once the trip to Plymouth is out of the way perhaps we can rescue a bit of it, down to the Severn, a look at the Droitwich and then Tardebigge. It will then be time to head back to Norbury Junction to leave Armadillo while we are in the good old U.S.of A. She's then in for bottom blacking and after that it will be time to scuttle off to find somewhere to winter. It can't be as bad as last winter, can it?

The junction bridge at Cut End (Autherley Junction), through this bridge lies miles of the loveliest canal ever. (My opinion, you don't have to agree.)
After mooring we took the chance of a gap in the showers to take a stroll, we crossed bridge seven and

were knocked backwards by the sheer colour of a field of poppies.

They were blooming in a field of oilseed rape.

I think the white flowers are scentless mayweed, whatever it was it added a subtle background.

I can't think of anything to say about this, just Poppy.

A small toirtoiseshell then allowed me close enough to get this shot, I was honoured by his trust, or perhaps he's just a poseur.
Tomorrow it's Brewood (Pronounced Brood) and, hopefully, a curry at The Curry Inn.

Watch this space.........

Black Works and a black bird.

2011-06-21T17:10:00.002+01:00

We're heading for Norbury Junction again. We have to be in Plymouth for the start of July, family gathering, and Simon has kindly agreed to look after Armadillo for us. Hire car is booked for the twenty-ninth, hopefully all logistics are in place.
Today's trip is one we have done oft times before, heading from Penkridge toward Cut End, stopping somewhere in the country.
Through seven locks to Gailey where the round house dominates the scene,

after Gailey it's through the Black Works,

with its pipe bridges and assorted buildings, then through Long Moll's Bridge (I still have not discovered who she/he was) and we have stopped near bridge seventy-four. Spendidly isolated, just a farm visible in the distance.
On the way we spotted a crow struggling in the canal so, being kindly people, we scooped it out with my landing net and returned it to terra firma, it didn't look too healthy but at least it's in with a chance.

This is a crow, not the one we rescued but as not much has happened I'm trying to bulk the post out a bit. Yes I know it could be a rook but in my vast areas of ignorance ornithology is right up there on the leader board.

A fete worse than death, don't you love a good pun?

2011-06-18T21:54:00.001+01:00

Tixall to Penkridge, about four hours and four locks. Also had a good downpour and arrived damp but unbowed.

The cottage at Deptmore Lock is coming along nicely, extension out the back, all new windows, looks good. Must be costing a fortune.
After arrival at Penkridge we walked up into town and discovered that today was the Church Fete. You have to have a look don't you.

The usual collection of stalls, I bought six books for £1.50, not great literature but I don't do that sort of book.
There were some good cars though.

An Austin 1100, I had one as my first car, terrible things, no wonder the British car industry went belly up. The Rover was only marginally better.
Actually my first car was a Reliant Regal, you could drive one on a motor-bike licence and at the time that was the only licence I had, the 1100 only came along after the R.N. kindly provided me with a full licence.

An American fire tender, how did that get here?

Daimler Ferret scout car, 1958. Love the sun shade.

Oh dear, another great British design, rapidly consigned to the dustbin of history. Just think, an electric "car" years before they invented global warming. It might work if they introduced it now.
But best of all

a genuine Punch and Judy show,

forget p.c., the traditional violence was there

and the little ones just loved it. "That's the way to do it."

The happy couple, the bits with the crocodile and the sausages were just too horrific to publish.

Such a gathering would not be complete without a fairground organ, embarrassingly I can remember when you could still see these working on fairground rides. Sounded good though.
Only in England could you get an event like this, no one else would dream of actually displaying

an Austin A30?
We loved the whole atmosphere of the afternoon, long may such events continue.
British eccentricity,

Watch this space............

Failed installation.

2011-06-17T11:33:00.002+01:00

INSTALLING SUMMER..
███████████████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ 44% DONE
Installation failed. Please try again.
404 error: Season not found.

Return to Tixall.

2011-06-17T11:32:00.000+01:00

Having enjoyed our stay at Salt we upped sticks for Great Haywood, at Weston Lock there was a queue, well there was a boat ahead of us and then one came in behind.

The canal's version of Reuters, all the news being broadcast, it's amazing the speed that information moves along the cut, quicker than the interweb.
There seemed to be more boats about than we have seen for a while, visions of the usual chaos at Gt. Haywood, especially as we needed water and that must be the busiest waterpoint ever. At the junction nothing was moving and even the waterpoint was empty. Water acquired, rubbish disposed of and still not a boat in sight, we moved off and turned onto the Staffs. and Worcs. without incident and headed for Tixall Wide.

Jill got a good shot at a heron, she says the chairs in the background spoil it, no pleasing some people.
We moored at the start of the Wide, this would be a lovely place to moor if it wasn't for the fact that everyone else thinks so too.

I do like waterlilies.
We walked down to the village, had to post father's day card, and look who was walking down the towpath ahead of us.

It didn't seem to be bothered by our presence, must see plenty of people around here.

Above the lock Monarch and butty were working through.
It was a pleasant stroll but having looked at today's weather forecast I don't intend sticking my nose off the boat.

I even took this photo from the side hatch. We may move tomorrow.

Watch this space..............

Stone to Salt plus a fishy tale.

2011-06-15T12:49:00.000+01:00

We crept quietly out of Stone yesterday morning before the rush started. Once again I was duty lockie.

The Stone flight appears to have been designed to be worked by long legged, skinny acrobats, wrong on all counts as far as I'm concerned.

The Star Inn alongside the bottom lock, sorry but this is no longer a proper pub, it is more like a theme park idea of a pub. From all accounts the food is pretty indifferent as well. If you are in need of a decent beer in Stone just cross the bridge and The Swan is just across the road, real ale heaven.
We made our gentle way down to Salt and moored just before the bridge, although it's not marked as a mooring there are mooring rings here. The west coast main line is right next to the canal but as the Pendolinos only take four seconds to pass it's not that bad.

Five minutes up the road is The Holly Bush, not so much a pub as a restaurant with well kept real ale. Trust me the food is superb and not overly expensive. I had the venison casserole, delicious and an ample portion. Worth a punt if you're on the T & M.
This morning I was up and fishing by 05.30. My trusty split cane rod and wooden reel were deployed and after a few minutes

a nice little chub.
I also had bream and two, count 'em, two, carp.

I gave up about 10.30 as the boat traffic was building up, who do these boaters think they are? Anyone would think the canals were built just for boats.
Oh, were they? gosh.

Watch his space................

A couple of re-thinks and a duck.

2011-06-13T20:12:00.000+01:00

I've been thinking about my post on the eleventh, especially about the horse tunnel. A more careful examination today, it wasn't raining, revealed

this roller. Simple, you set the horse off down the tunnel and once the boat is moving you drop the rope off the looby and out she comes under her own inertia. Alternatively you could just lift a top paddle and flush her out.
As for the odd arched stone

at lock thirty-three I'm now wondering if perhaps it was just a stone from the original staircase that had just been re-used at some time.

Here's one for the ornithologists, mandarin or wood duck?

Watch this space...............

What an 'orrible day, plus a poem(of sorts).

2011-06-12T21:46:00.000+01:00

As planned we sat today out at Stone, at 06.30 it was a beautiful morning. At 09.00 I watched an angler who was fishing just at the back of us land a carp of about twelve pound, it was a beauty and yes I was jealous. At 09.30 it started to bucket down and it hasn't stopped all day. The dog's afternoon walk lasted about thirty seconds, she did what she had to and was back at the front of the boat before I had chance to even zip the cratch cover down, I didn't complain. I came back on board and put the central heating on.
Seeing the number of boats who gave up on travelling and moored here we are not moving tomorrow, I get the feeling that the locks may just be a tad busy.
So apart from watching the rain run down the windows we have done nothing today. But I did write a poem to fit the conditions:

If someone goes polishing brass
A really wet day comes to pass,
So who of the muster
Has had out the duster?
You deserve a kick up the .......

Watch this space...............