On to Norton Junction.

Well we have now arrived at Norton Junction after a most pleasant sojourn on the Leicester Arm. A quick resume since Foxton.

Welford.

The only lock on the Welford Arm

and Welford Wharf, now a sanitary station.

Postman Pat greets you at the bottom of

the High Street.

The church has

the most splendid organ, catch the decorations, and

a fine memorial to Francis Saunders, Jills maiden name was Saunders, draw your own conclusions.

Crick.

Any decent village has two important buildings.

The pub is, of course, the centre of village life (The Red Lion is a fine example, well kept beer and friendly staff, thoroughly recommended.)

along with the church, the tower is Hartshill stone

and the font is early Norman, interesting eh?

Watford Locks and now we are at Norton Junction, Braunston next? probably.

Brief update.

The summit level of the Leicester Arm has got to be one of the most remote stretches of canal on the system, apart from Welford at the end of its own little arm there are no villages within striking distance, the occasional church spire peering over the trees and here and there a farm seem to be the only signs of habitation, even the minor roads try to avoid contact with the cut.

We spent a couple of days at Welford, it's quite a pleasant village with agreeable moorings and some nice rural walks, we did a few miles out to Sulby Abbey and back, there isn't actually an abbey, just some humps and bumps in the ground but it was a decent bit of exercise. Jill says I need more exercise but bone idle is my chosen mode of existence so there is the occasional discussion.

We are now nearing civilisation, Yelvertoft is only about a mile from where we are moored but as it is blowing a hoolie and chucking it down I think that exploration can wait. We do have some photos' but not enough signal to download them so they will have to wait.

One moment in time.

Evening on the summit, Classic F.M. is playing Vaughan-Williams The Lark Ascending and the sky looks like this, sublime moment.

We eventually tackle Foxton.

No wonder I am a technophobe, settled down tonight to write the latest chapter in the enthralling work that is this blog and guess what, somehow a contents lock had imposed itself on my internet and wouldn't even allow me into my own blog, come on, I know it's not wonderful but it's hardly pornographic. I eventually managed to contact T-Mobile and of course I have no idea what the 'phone number of my dongle is and the serial number on it is unreadable, but after a friendly chat with the nice lady I eventually got it lifted and so the saga (not with a capital S) continues:

Foxton Locks? Nothing to 'em.

We arrived in the early morning mist and having made our number with the lockie off we went.

Jill was duty steerer and it was into the bottom lock,

red paddle first,

and when you open the white paddle the water rushes into the side pond, simple.

The lockie and I even had time to put the world to rights.

Five down, ( Or five up, depends on your point of view) five to go.

So we survived and I promise not to mention Foxton again. We are now on the summit level and moored miles from anywhere, bliss.

More thoughts on Foxton Locks and a distance conundrum.

We are now ready to to tackle Foxton Locks, two five lock staircases, with side ponds, hmm.

You open the red paddle and that allows water from the side pond into the lower lock and then you open the white paddle and that sends water from the higher lock into the side pond and it all levels out and everything is fine.

The building at the bottom is the Foxton Locks Inn, to which you can repair when it has all gone belly up, as long as you haven't flooded it that is.

At the bottom of the locks are a nice new signpost and an old mile post, side by side.

In the nineteenth century these were the mileages from the junction,

twenty-first century and things appear to have moved, I blame the E.U., or perhaps global warming?

This is the first bridge below the locks and no sign of Zippy or Bungle. Perhaps they will turn up when we hit the locks tomorrow.

Market Harborough, a fine town.

A trip to the end of the Market Harborough Arm proved well worthwhile. Nice moorings, albeit on a bit of a curve in places and if you are feeling flush, six quid a night in the basin, plus electric.

Union Wharf in the early morning mist.

Once the mist has cleared a quick wander and you will find Frank the Plank, no I don't know either.

and look who else lives here, yes, it's a major lair of Canal Time. A useful sanitary station though. Despite having been warned about the major hike into town it turned out to be about ten minutes, even for such aged wrecks as us it isn't far.

Into town, lots of splendid buildings and all in good condition.

The Old Grammer School with, behind left, the municipal offices, formerly a corset factory, honest, it was.

A most imposing church, who was St. Dionysius? Unfortunately the interior has been got at and is about as interesting as the inside of an empty shoe box.

Only interesting thing in there and no explanation as to why it's there.

Lots of local shops and the multis are all tucked out of sight. We even found a bespoke tailor, he specialises in things equestrian so if you need a new set of made to measure pinks for the next hunt, he's your man.

Foxton Locks. A perambulation.

We had our stroll around Foxton Locks this morning.

The bottom of the locks before the rush starts, once the queue builds up it can get quite hairy.

Not many places where there are still side ponds that actually work, BW's attitude seems to be that they are far to complicated for such simple people as boaters, well I can see their point.

Locks, side ponds, which paddle is it next?

Was it red before white, or t'other way round? I suppose we'll find out when we attempt it, but not until after Market Harborough.

Things warming up nicely at the bottom of the locks,

and if you want gongoozlers.

The inclined plane with a goodly bit of Leicestershire in the background.

More of the boat lift, it would be nice to think it would be restored one day, here's hoping.

And here is a little gnome with his newly refurbished split cane Avon rod, well done Steve, it's top notch. If anyone is interested, I never had a bite all afternoon.