Christmas shopping is done and dusted.

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.

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.

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".

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.

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..

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.

 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.............