Despite dire warnings, yesterday we moved down to Festival Park and moored by the China House because a) We needed some shopping and b) I had arranged to meet an old mate, Syd, with whom I had served on H.M.S. Argonaut many years ago. For all the woe sayers nobody tried to rob the boat or us and we had a brilliant evening, we met Syd's family and he and I mulled over old times, laughing at the things we were up to then. It was twenty-five years since we had seen each other but it seemed like just last week. Thanks Syd, glad there are no hard feelings, I did my best in those days, never did catch you most of the time. Bring back the Field Gun I say.
This morning we moved on, stopping at the Black Prince boatyard as we were in need of pump out, diesel, gas and water. They fixed us up wonderfully, service with a smile and reasonably priced, well done those men, thoroughly recommended.
OK, it's not Banksie but is way above the usual run of graffiti.
Sorry about the reflection, best I could do with the sun shining.
Etruria Junction and Stoke top lock.
Although the buildings are still there it has lost its sense of industry, how different it must have been even fifty years ago.
Jill was on locking duty,
Here she is peering gloomily into the depths of the thirds lock, the grave yard is just behind her, perhaps she is reflecting on our mortality, there again she may deciding on tonights dinner, who can say.
I was determined to get through Stoke without taking a picture of a bottle kiln but I can never resist this pair, for some reason they remind me of Madonna.
Alright, I know it's puerile but you have to laugh.
We stopped for lunch by the Wedgewood factory and couldn't be bothered to move again.
With neighbours like these who would want to move? Let's see what the weather is like tomorrow.
Watch this space..........
No comments:
Post a Comment