Bancroft Basin to The Red Lion

It’s true what we’ve heard about the Japanese tourists here. As we were having breakfast this morning we could hear voices and Oleanna dipped just slightly to one side. On opening the hatch to see what had caused this we could see a lady posing to have her photo taken, one foot on our gunnel and a hand on the grab rail, at least the RSC would be in the background! Mick had left the cratch cover rolled up after going for a newspaper this morning which gave the lady somewhere to put her foot. Yesterday morning there had been a photo opportunity for someone to stand on the stern of our nearest neighbour, we’d thought being moored bow in that we’d avoid being a photo opp, but no. There’s no point in saying anything as it won’t stop the next person from doing the same.

Our 48hrs on the pontoons would be up at lunchtime, so Mick walked up to have a look behind the Red Lion after the next bridge, there was plenty of space so before the trip boats started for the day we pushed off and moved so that we could stay another night in Stratford. As we pulled up we both noticed an open gateway into the pubs car park, a perfect place for a Sainsburys delivery. No delivery slots today, but there were some for the morning, perfect, I added a couple of boxes of wine to secure our slot and checked out, leaving the rest of the shopping until later in the day.

I wanted to have a look around the market and my great narrow broom that I got for Christmas needed returning to Lakeland as the handle had stopped being extendable, it packs away nicely under the gunnel in the bathroom. We both went into Lakeland, but without a proof of purchase they couldn’t do anything. Six months later, a receipt for a broom! Mick returned to the boat to hunt out his credit card statement from December whilst I headed to the market hoping to pick up some fresh veg and the like.

Stratford has a Farmers market twice a month and Antiques the other Saturdays, today sadly there was not one fresh fruit and veg stall, just old plates, lamps and books, only olives nuts and fudge were edible. More to add to the internet shopping list.

At lunch time we were joined by Ian and Liz this time with their two daughters, Martha and Florence. Both of the girls wanted to meet Tilly and Florence was impressed by our cat steps to get inside the boat. Tilly obliged for a while but then found some piece and quiet behind our mattress and under the duvet, only for me to have a request to see if I could get Mrs Tilly to come back out. I quite liked being called Mrs Tilly, I shall only respond to this from now on.

Once the girls had seen the boat we walked up into town for lunch. Fourteas is a 1940’s tearoom which was set up by an ex-stage manager from the RSC. It is decorated suitably and stuffed full of period props, the waitresses are costumed and the menus are ration books, although what is on the menu certainly doesn’t keep to WW2 rations. The place was packed, a table became free for us outside after ten minutes. Cake stands were everywhere with cakes and sandwiches piled high. We all made suitable choices, lots of scrambled egg with choices of muffins or toast. Mick and I opted for the GI breakfast which was extremely tasty with bananas, pancakes, bacon, poached eggs, maple syrup and some fresh fruit all accompanied with a cuppa and a tea timer to let you know when it had brewed long enough. It’s a very good job we hadn’t know about here earlier as we’d have been tempted most mornings!

After we’d had our fill and looked at the Anderson shelter we walked up to The Other Place where Liz gave us a tour round. The whole of the rusty box next to the original Courtyard Theatre had been built as a 1000 seat theatre space which was used as a temporary home when the major works were being carried out on the RST. Once the refurbished theatre was reopened this temporary building was meant to be taken down, but locals had grown to like it, so it was adapted to what it is now. The studio space takes up very little of the building, two large rehearsal spaces and masses of costume storage. Areas that were once toilets for the thousand punters each night have been repurposed into presentation areas. The whole building has more of a heart to it than The Swan and the RST. Up the road when there are no shows on it consists of a shop and cafes surrounded by empty corridors that lead to the theatres. But here plenty is going on all the time, there was an impromptu mask making session going on front of house which had kept the kids occupied whilst we walked round the rails of costumes.

We parted ways with Liz and Ian as there was a birthday party to get ready for. It’s been lovely to see them again after so long and very good of Liz to have organised tickets and tours for us. Hopefully we might get chance to see them again later in the year.

Once the remainder of our shopping had been ordered, a bit more wine for under the steps (it’s empty down there you know) and plenty of food we headed out for dinner. I’ve been fancying a Chinese for quite sometime and we took pot luck on a restaurant near the station. As soon as we walked in we both knew that it wasn’t quite what we’d hoped for, but it would do. A poor relation to those Chinese Buffets in Manchester, but they did have aromatic duck with pancakes so it was okay. Just not quite what we’d thought of to mark our fourth anniversary of the start to our narrowboat journey.

0 locks, 0.13 miles, 1 finally successful replacement of a narrowboat narrow broom after two attempts, 0 fruit and veg, 0 wine on board, 1 bottle purchased, 2 new friends, 1 new name, 4t’s, 2 coffees, 2 eggs, 3 pancakes, 2 rashers, 2 GI breakfasts, 2 mini Wainwrights, 2 big Wainwrights, 2nd tour, 1 photo allowed, 1 big shop, 3 trees claimed, 1 car park too, 2 slightly disappointing buffets, 4 aromatic duck pancakes with plenty of Hoi Sin sauce, 1 family of extinguishers, 4 years that was going to be 1, 1 more year planned, at least!

https://goo.gl/maps/esyHsPBegmy

Bancroft Basin

With new never to be used train tickets and voucher in hand we set off to find the museum. Most visitors too Stratford flock to all the Shakespeare sights, birthplace, daughters house, his house, his grave, where he once sneezed etc, but instead we headed straight to MAD Mechanical Art and Design. It took us a little bit to find as Google maps was a little bit misleading in it’s location, but once found it was well worth it.

With our Days Out voucher and train ticket we got in 2 for 1, we possibly could have flashed any train ticket at the chap, but you never know. He explained how the exhibits worked, press the illuminated button, keep your fingers clear and watch, toilets in that corner. So we did as we were told.

My first experience of such a place was when I was maybe 14 in Covent Garden. Down at the bottom of the market was a small shop filled with wooden mechanical sculptures, some were powered, some you turned a crank, all were made by a chap called Paul Spooner. I fell in love with them. The other day when looking for things we should do in Stratford, apart from the obvious, I knew this was right up our street.

Turning whisks and scone cutters, light bulbs flashing. Thin bent wire formed tracks for marbles to run down the only power required to return them back to the top.

What is it about such things that holds everyone’s attention? You can stand and watch one ball come down from the top following it’s route and then move on. Or you can stand and wait to see which route the next marble will take, a thing flicks over and a whole new course for it to follow, or it gets trapped awaiting for a second one to join it when they will over balance a seesaw and then be sent down two more courses.

There were plenty of different exhibits all keeping us transfixed. Mick was particularly taken with Number 80, when ever I’d lost him he would just be stood waiting for the third ball to join and release opening up another track. He was quite distraught when it stopped and didn’t work anymore, but the chap on duty came along picked up all the whopper marbles, including the one on the floor, put them in at the top and pressed the button, mended.

In a darkened room you could watch films by kinetic artists. One chap hates licking stamps so developed a machine to collect his tears whilst chopping onions these then fell on the back of a stamp, more chopping onions and another machine involving a desk pencil sharpener moistened and closed the envelope for him. Surely everyone needs one of these. Another film showed one mans work for the last four years Metropolis 2. Thousands of toy cars are carried by conveyor up to the top of his creation and then left to travel down at 23.4 mph following tracks with sides to stop them falling and fouling the whole city.

Here’s a few links to some of the exhibits.    MAD 1       MAD 2     MAD 3

We had a great time and would highly recommend it for a few hours.

Liz had very kindly arranged for us to join one of the tours around the RSC today. The Swan theatre occupies a Victorian Gothic building which was originally the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre which opened in 1879 after Charles Flowers, a local brewer, donated the site. In 1926 the auditorium and stage were destroyed in a fire, the Chairman of the board Sir Archibald Flower started to raise funds to rebuild the theatre. Instead of using the original building the New Shakespeare Memorial Theatre was built next door opening it’s Art Deco doors in 1932.

In 1986 The Swan Theatre was created in the shell of the Victorian building, the auditorium based on a Tudor style theatre with a thrust stage, this proved to be quite popular with the public even though it wasn’t a replica. When the RST was redeveloped in 2007 this was taken on board and a similar but 1000 seat auditorium was built here, replacing the proscenium (end on) stage that I had visited when I was 20. In 2011 the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre was officially opened by the Queen.

Our tour guide took us around the building, a general tour covering the auditoria, control rooms, space that is used for costume storage and most back stage areas. No photos allowed. It was interesting to see the scale of everything, most of what our guide talked about is very similar in every theatre, although he used slightly different terms to make it easier to understand. I decided I should keep quiet when questions were being asked, which was hard. At least there wasn’t my favourite question, ‘How do the actors keep up with the lights?’.

We had time afterwards to return to the boat for some food before heading back out to see The Fantastic Follies of Mrs Rich in the Swan. Liz had got us tickets on the ground level which are all bench seats, a bit cosy.

Mrs Rich is a wealthy bankers widow, who has aspirations to gain friends in high places and maybe even gain a title. Those around her have seen her coming and take advantage of her naivety. Many story lines twist at high speed around each other in this comedy of manners written by Mary Pix in the late 1600’s. Four saxophones and a harpsicord provide the boisterous music for the occasional song. Sophie Stanton was extremely good in the title role with the rest of the cast not far behind her. The period costumes were lavish and two Irish Wolf Hounds performed remarkably well despite the gunshots. A very jolly frivolous evening to round off the day.

0 locks, 0 miles, 1 job, 2 train tickets, 2 for 1, 3 hours of turning cranks, 3326 marbles, 2 grinning boaters, 1 hour tour, 0 thatched roof, 1 SM in charge of everything! 500 lights all at full, 2 comps, 22 cast, 2 dogs, 6 musicians, 5 pannierd big frocks, 1 very good day.

Chain Ferry to The Old Bathing Place to Bancroft Basin

Supermarkets aren’t very well positioned for the river in Stratford. In town there is a small Sainsburys and an M&S food hall which are okay. This morning however we decided to walk across the park to Waitrose and see what was in their ‘sad gits’ isle. Just over a mile away we had a pleasant walk across the park and joined the old tramway sitting high above the A3400 south out of town. We picked up enough for a couple of meals and had spent a tenner to get a free newspaper.

Time to move off, our Avon license had already expired. We decided to head upstream first to make use of the bins and water point at the Fisherman’s Car Park. Novice rowers were out in force this morning giving us an obstacle course to negotiate and as we reached the bridges the trip boats were setting off too. The moorings on the river had thinned out leaving only a couple of boats. We followed the signs for the correct arches and carried on upstream leaving the rowers behind, except they were now replaced with zooming zippy little taxi boats, at least they were more manoeuvrable.

More long gardens come down to the meet the river. Our friends Liz and Ian live in Tiddington about 200ft as the crow flies from the river at the limit of navigation. We wondered if their house was anything like the ones we were passing, knowing full well that such houses would be well out of their range. On a wide bend in the river were the services, we pulled up playing hopscotch trying to avoid the goose pooh. Other than those with need of an Elsan we wondered how many boats head up here, most boaters would have disposed of their rubbish in the bins at the park and topped up their water tank there too.

The water tap is set quite a distance away and our normal 20m hose didn’t quite reach, necessitating adding our second hose which of course proceeded in coming away at the end. Once mended we filled the tank, emptied the yellow water, cleaned out Tilly’s pooh box and disposed of our rubbish apart from the recycling. Our decision to work our way through the wine bottles on the shelf was not the wisest as the Avon has no recycling for glass.

With everything filled or emptied Oleanna was winded, in between the passing craft, and we headed back to Stratford. There is nowhere to drop crew off at the lock so Mick carried on down to be level with the theatre before winding and pulling up on the moorings to drop me off, by which time a trip boat was just turning into the lock. One of their crew stayed and helped me turn the lock for us to come up, as the gates opened Mick was already on his way. With the gates closed behind Oleanna we were back on C&RT waters, we’ve really enjoyed the river, far prettier than many others, we’ll be back to head downstream next time.

The basin was starting to fill up, a boat was just arriving from the canal as we came out from the lock. We’d had a request from the trip boat to moor in the centre if we could, leaving them plenty of space to be able to wind after the pontoons. The chap at first didn’t seem too happy with where we were heading but after Mick went to see him he was fine, he thought we were longer than we actually are. Mooring on short pontoons on our starboard side is going to be a little bit tricksy for a while until we get the fareleed sorted, the one that got more than it bargained for below a lock the other day.

What had happened to the day? We’d bought single tickets to Stratford from the nearest station to make use of a Days Out Voucher, 2 for 1, but by the time we’d had lunch there wasn’t enough time to make the most of it. Luckily we cancelled the train tickets and got a full refund. Instead of museums we decided to walk down the river, see if we could get tickets at The Other Place for the show tonight. With tickets reserved we decided to go and check that Will was actually dead. Holy Trinity Church is where the famous playwrite lies along with his family. Normally when we visit churches we have a good look round and add a couple of pound coins into their donations box as we leave. Here there is a suggested Donation of £3 with a lady stood by the choir ready to collect your donation. With the number of visitors they have every day it must be one of the richest churches in the country. We decided to have a look around the church but avoid the tomb itself. So we’ll never know if Will is actually dead or not.

Along the streets here there are many differing street lights, they have been donated by councils all over Britain, some have come from further afield Brugges. The first one we spotted was from Hull.

In the evening we headed to The Other Place. Originally a tin shed rehearsal space, in 1974 it was converted into a performance space for adventurous and experimental work by contemporary writers. The building has grown through the years closing in 1989 to be rebuilt with a permanent brick building. In 2005 it was adapted to have a foyer for The Courtyard Theatre which allowed performances to continue whilst the Royal Shakespeare and Swan theatres had work done to them. The shell of The Courtyard Theatre’s auditorium was kept and adapted to create a new The Other Place. It is called by those who work at the RSC as the Engine House, this is where the Stage Management are based, costumes are stored, rehearsal rooms, a cafe and bar and the studio theatre, very much the working heart of the RSC.

The Mischief Festival consists of two one act plays which centre around the freedom of speech, both true stories. #Wearearrested is the story of a journalist from Turkey who received a flash drive containing evidence of illegal government activity. Should he publish or not. He does and the play centres around what happens to him and other journalists who spoke out about the President. Much of the play is set in his prison cell, almost a one man show, with three accompanying actors moving around the theatre laid out in the round for the two plays. A simple set of three tables which get moved around to create space and place worked very well with a touch of magic sprinkled ontop. One lady in the audience was astounded with the set and it’s use, she’s obviously not seen much rep theatre where your budget for the while show is £400 ‘what can we do with these tables then?’ I suspect the tables tonight cost a bit more than £400.

Day Of The Living Dead, set in Ayotzinapa, Mexico 2014 where 43 students were forcefully disappeared. The ensemble company, the surviving students, retell the story with toe tapping Mexican music and masks. We’re still not sure why the masks were used, amusing and cleaver at times, but why? Maybe we missed something. The parting image of 43 kids windmills all being blown round by a, slightly noisy wind machine, was quite moving. For £15 a ticket it was worth going, we enjoyed both shows, the first one being the stronger piece, but we’re not sure either of them deserved a partial standing ovation.

1 lock, 1.84 miles, 2 winds, 1 left, 1 full water tank, 1 empty wee tank, 1 boat off the river, 1 basin full, 0 museums, £3.20 refunded, 2 Lucy graves, 0 Will grave, 2 plays, 1 other place., 2 annoying technicians!

River Levels at 9am today

Stratford,  0.607m

Warwick,  1.101m

https://goo.gl/maps/za9MD5UWQ532

Stratford Chain Ferry

The last couple of days we’ve been trying to sort out meeting up with some friends who I used to work with at the Stephen Joseph Theatre in Scarborough. Their schedules were busy but a slot for them to visit was possible this morning. We’re not normally early risers so today we needed an alarm clock to make sure that we’d be awake and had breakfast before our friends arrived. This worked and we even had time to adjust our mooring to stern end in for ease of stepping on board.

However Ian and Liz arrived before the ferryman and the river lay between us! Thank goodness Ian still has a voice that needs no assistance, his Dewsbury accent boomed across the Avon, he suggested that they’d walk round. But we were aware that their time would be limited with us, so we decided to push over to pick them up. Untied, pram cover dropped, Mick manoeuvred us across the river in between the early rowers and brought the bow in to where the chain ferry docks. I couldn’t see the chain at this end and we were just touching the bottom as the bow fender gently touched the dock. We were going to get no closer, so Ian and Liz stepped across onto the very front of the bow, Liz joining me in the cratch whilst we reversed back to our mooring and Ian remaining on the bow. It’s not often we get to give visitors a ride anywhere and this certainly saved a good 10 minute walk round.

We managed an hour with them before they had to return to work across the river, neither of them have changed a jot. Hopefully we’ll get chance to meet up later in the week for a drink at the theatre. They managed to get back across the river with a touch more grace this time as the ferryman had now turned up.

The hire boat behind us had moved off so we pulled back onto a long straight, no more banana mooring.

Our order of fuses had arrived in Pershore so Mick decided to go back to get them, two buses, two different companies and an hour and half each way. But we’d have spares should we need them whilst we decide if there’s a better solution. So he headed off and left me to have a quiet morning with Tilly. It was quiet once she’d given up being pestered by the local crows and stayed inside.

Our mooring permit mentioned bins at the Fisherman’s Carpark, the one’s marked on Waterway Routes were still a way up stream, so I decided to see if I could find them. After walking across the park I found that all the car parks had the same name, so I checked google. The Fisherman’s Carpark was upstream just where Waterway Routes had them marked. No point in checking and good job I hadn’t brought any rubbish with me. Instead I walked up the canal to check on other possible moorings as our time on the river will be up tomorrow.

The canal basin is noisy, exposed and certainly not cat friendly, so I walked up the canal, also to see if there would be easy access to Morrisons on the way out of town for a big shop. A C&RT chap was doing something at one of the locks and NB Keyston sat below, they’d either gone shopping or hadn’t been able to close a gate behind them, so had called the men in blue out. No easy access to Morrisons as far as I could tell, maybe a bridge further up would have been better. Only really one place to moor and that has thick trees, so no solar, and signs asking you to refrain from running your engine for more than half an hour! So not the best place to be. Further up by Excellence Afloat you could pull in, but the bank looked soft and you’d have to be on pins.

I met up with Mick and we had a bit more of a wander around. When I lived in York I found tourists fascinating, today I added another one to my collection. An oriental lady with a pink phone and selfie stick. She could have been absolutely anywhere in the world smiling and holding onto t-shirts, or balancing on one leg to get the right angle of her face in front of something or other. I wonder if she actually got to see any of Stratford, she’s certainly come a long way not to!

0 locks, 300ft, 150ft reversed, 1 first night party, 1 booming voice (handy with crowds of kids), 2 ex-SJT now RSC staff, 1 ferry, 1 introduction, 1 hour to catch up, 1 proper ferry, 4 buses, 5 fuses, 2 CROWS! 2 chilled medications, 1 shouty Jack Russell, 2 names stupid! 1 quiet evening on board.

River Levels at 9am today

Stratford,  0.618m

Warwick,  1.109m

Luddington Lock to Stratford Chain Ferry

A slow start for us this morning with no sudden movements for me. The two hire boats that had pulled up behind us last night headed up towards Stratford and a couple of boats headed down stream, including NB Jolly Lamb whom we’d last seen in Kidderminster many moons ago.

We ran the washing machine and then topped up with water, it’s a nice feeling when the dirty linen drawer is empty, just a shame it doesn’t last long! Mick also saw to the yellow water tank as we were near an elsan. Extra layers were called for as we pushed off, jumpers and fleeces, there was quite a chill in the air.

As we approached Weir Brake Lock, Mick spotted the Countess of Evesham, a restaurant boat, up on the next reach heading towards the lock. In our favour we worked our way up, but the Countess didn’t show. Last night she had come all the way down to Luddington, reversing past us and tying up on the lock landing for the passengers to stretch their legs for fifteen minutes before returning to Stratford. The evening cruises are longer than the lunchtime ones, so they must have winded up stream of the lock.

The river now wider than yesterday started to have the look of a city with park land and tarmacked pathways. At Stratford Trinity Lock the Countess was on her way back up. 41 for lunch today, all quaffing wine from big glasses and waving at us. Before leaving the lock they radioed to a trip boat that had just come past, now winding above the weir. There was time for them to clear the lock before they were overtaken.

We emptied the lock and brought Oleanna up to the Stratford level. A lady watched on from a bench, taking the occasional photo. She got talking to Mick as the lock levelled out. A German lady who wanted to know what sort of notice a boat had to give to use the lock. It took a little while before she understood that the boat was ours and the lock was self operated and that we weren’t here just to operate the lock for passing boats.

We pootled our way in passing Holy Trinity Church , where a certain Mr Shakespeare is buried.

Along the park bank there is plenty of space for mooring. We spotted a space behind NB Wanderer but carried on hoping for a space opposite the RSC. There was space, but we’d have had to use pins near the waterpoint. Where there were rings, boats had nicely spaced themselves out, no-one having to share rings. Two boats could have nudged up to make space for us, but by this time we’d decided that it would be nicer nearer the chain ferry a bit less footfall. So we winded headed back down stream to wind again between the trip boats and the chain ferry and pulled up. The space was long enough for us, but on a bend. We opted for stern end out.

The ladies from NB Wanderer came out for a chat. Yesterday when they’d reached Luddington, which was in their favour there was a boat waiting to come down just as we’d thought. This was the same hire boat we’d encountered, their first time and obviously they hadn’t quite slowed down yet! The ladies were hardly in the lock when the gate was being closed behind them and the wrong side paddle being raised swiftly.

Mooring here was going to be more suitable for Tilly, but it turned out she didn’t like it. Too many people, woofers and some very noisy swoopy crows who wouldn’t shut up! The number of those hissing swans coming up to the hatch, how rude are they, demanding bread. They all needed a good swipe from my paw! The back doors were soon closed and all wild life whether furry or feathered were under control again.

Up in the canal basin is a welcome boat for the Avon Navigation Trust, here you can get information, buy licences and pay for overnight mooring on the river. Because we’d had red boards on the river the lady said we’d be alright for an extra night, so we paid for 48hours mooring. We’ve enjoyed the river so didn’t mind donating £10 more to the trusts funds. A walk round town to pick up a bit of food for today and have a quick nosy.

Just how many tourists? Yes we were adding to the numbers. It’s a good job there is so much land around the RSC as it was packed, mostly with French students. I’m glad we’re a little bit out of the way where we are moored.

Our walk brought us back to the river to the chain ferry. Unfortunately we weren’t able to pay our 50p to cross as the chap had gone home. So we sat and chatted to two sisters who were making the most of the last five minutes of their paid for parking, watching the river go by. We now had to walk round as we were not been able to attract the attention of anyone on the moored boats to come and get us.

2 locks, 3.09 miles, 1 full washing machine, 1 full water tank, 1 empty wee tank, 0 recycling still! 41 for lunch, 0 windlass, 3 git gaps, 0 offers to move up, 2 winds, 2 self important crows, 6421 long necked white beasts! 2 nights mooring, 4 months now 4 weeks, 4 yellow pills, 2 late for the chain ferry.

River Levels at 9am today

Stratford,  0.626m

Warwick,  1.115m

https://goo.gl/maps/eqqgNPXnEus

Barton Lock to Luddington Lock

Mick headed back to Bidford Boat Services by bike this morning in the hope that they might have a fuse. Last night we’d received an email from Amazon saying that the fuses that had been ordered had been dispatched to Pershore, five days after they’d been ordered and two days after Mick had tried to cancel them, they were too far through processing for this to happen! At the boat yard he got chatting to Mike an engineer, he rummaged through things and pulled out a suitable fuse that he’d had for years. Mick said that they could have chatted about boat electrics for ages but he managed to pull himself away, stopping off at Budgens for some broccoli and bread on his way home.

By the time we were ready to set off several boats had already passed us heading upstream, we were about half an hour behind the last one by the time Tilly had come home and the new fuse had been installed, so maybe we’d catch them up or maybe not.

The River Avon certainly attracts good lawn mowers, the other day the robotic ones and today big sit on ones. One chap was busy cutting the towpath and the routes down to the fishing pegs on the banks. He’d pop out through banks of high nettles, stop just in the nick of time and then spin round on the spot to return to the main path. It looked like great fun. Another chap further along was mowing a large garden on a bigger sit on mower, this didn’t look quite so much fun as he had to reverse round trees, not just swing himself round.

Bidford Grange Lock at only 2ft 6” was easy to empty and a smooth ride upwards. The river from here on much narrower than further downstream, the banks higher and steeper. Our speed dropped, the river may have been shallower, the flow of the water faster against us heading upstream, but Oleanna was having to work hard. The Rapeseed flowers are past their best now and the Elderflower has taken over, every now and again you get a big waft of the sweet scent. I really must stock up on sugar and lemons to make some cordial before the flower heads are past their best. Dog roses hang over banks of trees adding pink to the mass of green.

On reaching Welford Lock (Cadbury Lock) the boat ahead of us was just finishing going up. We helped the ladies of NB Wanderer with the gates and chatted. They had only bought a weeks licence in Tewkesbury but have enjoyed the river so much they are going to get another and head back south instead of carrying on up onto the Stratford Canal. In no rush they said they’d wait for us at the next lock.

As we re-set the chamber I watched a chap walking round his immaculate garden on the opposite bank, he was wafting away imperfections with a leaf blower. A gentle stream tumbled down a small waterfall into the river, very lovely, they certainly know how to do gardens round here.

Welford Lock was noted in our guides as being very turbulent when filled and we should tie up very well. It being over 7ft deep and the bollards not quite in the right places made this a touch difficult. But with Mick holding onto the stern line and four turns around a bollard at the bow I started to open up the paddles. These create a plume of water over the surface and opening the one on the same side as Oleanna seemed to keep her into the side. Mick kept putting her into reverse which helped hold the bow in. My four turns held well (a tip from the hire boats at Sewerby Bridge), no slipping as you sometimes get if you put a loop over the bollard, you can also easily untie your rope when there is a lot of tension on it without any risk of loops and fingers!

A mile upstream was Binton Bridge, another with multiple arches none identical in either height or width. They may be good at gardens but have cobbled their bridges together somewhat, , although it makes them quite interesting.

Along this next reach of the river I got the tell tale signs of a migraine starting, thanks body! The blank spot in my vision, followed by numb hands etc, I quickly took some pink pills hoping that they would reduce the effects. By the time we reached Luddington Lock I could feel all my fingers again and it was the lull before the head ache kicked in, I just hoped I wouldn’t have to chat to anyone too much.

The ladies on NB Wanderer had obviously had to go up before we arrived as a boat was just about to come down. The force from the weir meant we had to push through to the landing stage. I managed to hop off as quickly as possible, closely followed by Mick with the centre line. Up at the lock a lady lifted the paddles straight up, not waiting to check to see if we’d tied up. Mick struggled with the flow of the water gushing from the gates only having managed to get one turn around a post. Oleannas bow was being pushed right over and Mick was clinging on for dear life, our Alde boiler flue getting perilously close to being broken on the landing stage. By the time I got up to the lock it was too late to slow the whole thing down and Mick was just managing to pull Oleanna in. The lady said hello, totally unaware of what had just happened below the lock. I decided to keep my mouth shut as all that would have come out would have been expletives not totally deserved and partially caused by my growing headache. We suspect that most experienced boaters would have noted us arriving below and waited for us to tie up before opening up the paddles full whack, but this was one of the posh hire boats from Anglo Welsh. It could have been their first time out or twenty fifth, who knew, from what I remember basic lock training doesn’t include checking on other peoples boats you may effect.

Once up we pulled over onto the moorings. Here a couple of water taps were positioned so that we could be right at the end and still fill with water. A quick check of the area and it was deemed fine for Tilly. We had a quiet afternoon whilst Tilly was extremely busy somewhere out of sight, possibly running around like a loon whilst trying to find holes in the very nice big lawn behind the fence alongside the moorings.

3 locks, 5.52 miles, 100amp fuse, 1 parcel dispatched, 5 spare fuses might be good, 2 outsides, 1 boat almost swept away, 1 broken fairlead, 2 pink pills, 2 yellow pills, 1 cordon Pip class for Mick, 0 yo-yos, 7 holes that are maybe a bit bigger, 5 crows, 1 hissing fight with Mum and Dad swan, 1 restaurant boat reversing past, 2 bow thruster batteries charging again.

River Levels at 9am today

Stratford,  0.648m

Warwick,  1.117m

https://goo.gl/maps/mo1zwyj75UC2

Workman Park to Barton Lock

There was a very important conversation going on in the park last night, the lady was still chatting away until at least 3am (I know this because the bell tower keeps very good time!), but by 3.30am she’d run out of air and gone home to find some more. The geese were awake good and early doing their best to summon some white sliced for breakfast. By 8am some of the locals obliged and got swamped with expectant beaks.

We considered trying to find something for a barbeque but we’d not spotted many fresh food shops yesterday. So we decided to wait to see what Bidford on Avon might have to offer on a Sunday afternoon.

Boats had been coming past as we had breakfast, several now familiar, maybe local and out to make the most of the sunny weekend. We joined in and pushed off passing under Workman Bridge before turning to the left towards the lock. Evesham lock marks where the Upper and Lower Avon traditionally met, now all cared for by the Avon Navigation Trust, but this wasn’t always so.

Improvements to the river began in 1635 with a series of locks and weirs making it possible to reach Stratford from the River Severn, and to within 4 miles of Warwick. The Upper Avon was prone to flooding and was abandoned as a means of navigation by 1877. The Lower Avon struggled on only really navigable upto Pershore by 1945. Restoration of the lower reaches began in 1950 and were completed in 1962. The upper river was a far more daunting task as most of the locks and weirs had disappeared. Work began in 1965 on the construction of nine new locks and 17 miles of river using mainly volunteer labour, this was completed in 1974 to be opened by the Queen Mother. The Upper Avon locks now seem to have two names, original names and those of sponsors who funded the works.

Next to the lock at Evesham stands a triangular building, a lock keepers house. This was once manned, but no longer. The lock was waiting for us, I hopped off, closed the gates behind Oleanna, passed the ropes round the bollards and was just doing the very first click of the top gate paddle when the bow of a boat came round the bend below the lock. They were just in time to share, so I gave them a wave and opened up a bottom gate to let them in. Immediately there were comments as to our colour schemes, NB Keyston asked if Oleanna was an Aintree boat. Both boats with dark blue cabin sides, cream roofs and red grabrails sat next to each other in the lock, the blues a different shade, one hand painted the other sprayed, one far cleaner than the other (I wonder which was which?!).

Normally on broad canals it is much easier sharing locks, no ropes are required and paddles can be opened without too much bumping going on. But we followed the guide lines, both boats roped up and the gate paddles carefully opened up together. Oleanna behaved better than NB Keyston, maybe we wound the paddles up a bit too quickly and should have taken it steadier. We both commented on how it had been a smother ride with just one boat in the lock, but one advantage was not having to walk round to open both gates before leaving.

We led the way for the next three miles. When the river rose last week this was the second section to close up to Offenham Lock, it wouldn’t have been nice trying to get past the big weir here with an increased flow of water. As we got near to a sharp right hand bend we of course started to meet boats coming towards us. But after counting pairs go past I realised that we’d be fine as there would have to be another lock fill and empty before any more boats came round the bend. Now in the heart of the Vale of Evesham green houses come right up to the river, filled with growing fruit and veg.

Offenham Lock was waiting for us, gates open and a family stood waiting to watch by the small lighthouse. Once both boats were in I enlisted the help of a young girl who was ever so keen to help with the gates, she asked if she could help at the other end too whilst her family waited by their car for us to finish. At only 2ft 10 deep the lock didn’t take much time to fill, just as well as only one gate paddle was working.

Here we parted ways with NB Keyston, they were stopping for lunch having been on the go longer than us. The moorings here looked nice, a good place to sit and wait for the river to go down, the lock cut having most facilities and sheltered from the weir. The only downside being that a pub across the other side of the river (less than 300ft away) is inaccessible from the moorings, heading south to find a crossing would give you a one way trip of around 9 miles for a pint.

Now on our own again we made our way up Robert Aickman (Harvington) Lock, diagonally across the top of the weir and carried on surrounded by countryside. All the reeds were filled with electric blue damselflies, flitting about in the sunshine.

Swans were showing off their fluffy cygnets and we saw our first big goose creche of the year, there must have been at least six lots of chicks all being guarded by their nannies, heads low to the water seeing us off. Several damselflies stopped and rested a while attracted by our grabrail, another mass suicide of flies still covering it.

At Marcliff Lock a boat was just pulling out above and a cyclist sat in the shade having a breather from the rays of the sun. This was to be the last of our locks for the day and the thought of some shade ourselves and some lunch was attractive. Moored boats meant we’d reached Bidford. There are quite a few moorings here, plenty outside pubs and then a stretch along the recreation ground. It was chocka! Boats breasted up, the park filled with cars and camper vans all having bbqs. There was one boat that we could have breasted up to, but they had two large woofers and then there was space outside one of the pubs, but our guide warned that it was shallow here. Only one thing for it, carry on.

Under the bridge and another three quarters of a mile to Barton (Elsie and Hiram Billington) Lock. Above here there were moorings on both side of the lock cut and only one boat moored up. We chose the land side for Tilly. A steep bank overgrown next to the mooring levels out above with a mown plateau before thick lush friendly cover reaches for what must be miles for a cat.

The day was really rather hot and our options for tea were few, mostly involving the cooker being on for sometime. Running through the contents of our depleted freezer I realised we’d just be able to manage a barbeque. Turkey steaks and sausages were left out to defrost in the afternoon warmth whilst Tilly explored her new kingdom, we stayed indoors sheltering from the sun.

By 7pm everything was fully defrosted, a sweet and sour marinade made for the steaks, some potatoes steamed with some peas and edamame beans all cooled and coated in garlic mayonnaise, followed by bananas with chocolate. Not a bad spread. As we ate and watched the sunset Tilly entertained us as she sprang around the grassy plateau catching more Yo-yo flies. Just as the sun had vanished behind the horizon we felt drops of rain, time to retire indoors.

5 locks, 8.75 miles, 2 locks shared, 1 shade seeking cyclist, 2 names for locks, 24 hrs only now, 1 assistant, 0 space in Bidford, 1 noisy park, 1 quiet mooring, 1 hire boat too far from a pub, 4 showers equals 2 more hours engine, 1 grassy plateau, 1 tasty improvised bbq, 4 hours into 6! 8 Yo-yos, 2 hot air balloons, 1 lovely evening, 1st horsefly bite Grr! lucky swept away in time.

River Levels at 9am (yesterday), today

Evesham, (0.819m), 0.648m

Stratford, (0.717m), 0.673m

Warwick, (1.168m), 1.14m

https://goo.gl/maps/HdDefcFo6V22

Craycombe Turn to Workman Park, Evesham

Tilly didn’t believe us when we said that there wouldn’t be any Yo-yo flies this morning, they only come out late afternoon, so she sulked for the morning on our bed.

Aim for the day was to reach Evesham, not far and to try a couple of chandlers for a fuse to get the bow thruster charging again.

The flow of the river had reduced a little this morning, so as we untied we weren’t swept out quite so fast from the mooring as had been expected but there was no need to push off.

Whilst on the train the other day I’d spotted a house on a hill with two large dishes. Today we passed it Wood Norton. A Victorian house once the home of Prince Philippe, Duke of Orleans, the last pretender to the throne of France. In early 1939 the BBC bought the site so that they could relocate operations away from London. Temporary buildings were added to the site to provide an emergency broadcasting centre. Specialised broadcasters were trained here to work with the resistance and special operations groups in Europe, sending encrypted secret messages in what appeared to be normal entertainment broadcasts. The BBC’s monitoring service was run from here until 1943. After the war it became a training school, but ready should a nuclear attack occur, in the 1960’s a new wing was built which houses a nuclear fallout bunker beneath it.  Now the house is run as a hotel and conference centre with the BBC still retaining it’s technical and operational training centre in the grounds.

Chadbury Lock our only one for the day showed us that the level was now in the green and hopefully will stay that way until we reach Stratford next week. Two chaps were out for a walk and helped with the off side gates. This lock was the first major task of the Avon Navigation Trust being totally rebuilt in 1952/3 helped by the Royal Engineers, the first civilian aid project carried out by the armed forces.

Half a mile on, Sanky Marine, our first thought for a fuse, we might have even filled up with diesel if their price was right. But they obviously weren’t interested in a narrowboat pulling in as only 10ft of service mooring was accessible by the diesel pump. So we carried on towards Evesham.

A mile further on we could see that Hampton Ferry was in use. Three long blasts of our horn to alert the Ferryman and we slowed down to wait for the wire to be lowered. Passengers got on the ferry which was then pulled across the river by hand to the Hampton side. The ferryman disappeared for a while, the wire dropped and then we got the thumbs up and could continue knowing that the cable was now on the river bed and not likely to fowl our prop.

The ferry has been in existence since the 13th Century, when the Benedictine Monks of Evesham Abbey wanted to be able to cross the Avon to tend a hillside of vineyards at Hampton. In 1929 the Huxleys moved to Hampton Ferry to operate both a smallholding market garden and the ferry the only link between Hampton and Evesham. They set up fishing contests, Eileen opened a cafe serving breakfasts to the increasing number of anglers which has now transformed itself into a restaurant. A campsite was added where asparagus was once grown, so Hampton Ferry is no longer just a ferry.

I’d studied Google maps last night to see which moorings would suit us best. The 48hr moorings nearer to Workman Bridge looked better than those nearer Abbey Bridge, the road being a little further away. As we passed the first moorings I’d been right to discount them, fixed pontoons with a narrow band of friendly cover up a steep bank, not ideal for a curious cat guaranteed to pounce. So we pulled in at Workman Gardens.

We walked up to Evesham Marina to visit the chandlers before they closed at 1pm for a fuse. Sadly, not mentioned on their website, the chandlers is only open by appointment on Saturdays and closed Sundays. We did manage to find a chap from the marina who said he could open the chandlers but would have no idea where they kept the fuses, so there was no point, a little like our walk! On the way back to the boat we tried at a garage, but had no luck there either. Mick had ordered one to be delivered to Pershore Post Office, but this had taken too long and still hadn’t been dispatched. We’ll try again in Stratford at the chandlers there. One good thing from our walk was coming across the Regal Cinema, art deco. Here you can go and see a film and have breakfast, the stalls are laid out with tables and the balcony has double seats. A big shame we didn’t fancy the film and it being the weekend the price was a bit dear.

This outside had potential, trees, big big trees, grass to run around on. But it just wasn’t any good at all! Yes there were ducks and geese to stalk but there were also far far too many people, some of them sitting right by the back of my boat! So I decided to keep an eye on them and sit as close to the outside as I could without actually being in it.

Abbeys seem to have been the vogue along the Avon although the one in Evesham faired the worst in the dissolution of the monasteries. The only buildings left of the second largest monastery in England is the bell tower and two parish churches, a small section of wall and an arch still stand too, but that is all. The bell tower marked the entrance and sturdily stands above Abbey Park ringing out its bells frequently. Two parish churches sit side by side with the grounds of the abbey.

St Lawrence was the first to be built originally in 1195, but the current building dating from the 15th Century being rebuilt in 18th Century. A calm light church, looked after by The Churches Conservation Trust, few services are held here anymore. With no heating it would be far too cold for anyone to endure during the winter. A solo choristers voice rang out around the building, the acoustics amazing as the singer was hidden in a wooden chest.

Across the way is All Saints, built 100 years later for a separate parish in Evesham. The atmosphere was so different, not helped by a chap sat having a very loud phone call about accommodation half in English half Polish. This felt very much like a normal parish church, carpeted nave, heating grills in the floor hardly surprising it was chosen to continue as the Parish church. We however preferred St Lawrences.

Back at Oleanna Tilly showed no interest in going outside again, preferring to sleep on the sofa. The warm weather meant that the parks on both banks were busy late into the evening, the bench nearest to us being fully occupied most of the time, we’ll move on in the morning.

1 lock, 4.28 miles, 2 chandlers closed, 3 beeps, 50p adults, 25p children, 1 park mooring, 1 deco picture house, 1 newspaper, 2 giant fenders, 1 clock tower, 2 parish churches, 1 field full of Christmas trees, 1 fed up cat, 0 Yo-yo flies!

https://goo.gl/maps/W8Sg26v44t72

Pershore Recreation Ground to Craycombe Turn

Time to move on. After chatting with NB Flying Pig and stocking up on a few items at Asda (just in case the river comes up again) we pushed off heading upstream again.

Not that far ahead  is Wyre Lock which sits close to Wyre Mill. The weir cut here is full of moorings and the Avon Navigation Trust’s Office is located here. Signs boast the lowest mooring fees on the Avon , all with hook up and water. Today in the sunshine it did look very pretty.

The levels board below the lock was in the green, a thing we hoped to see more of today. The lock was in our favour which should mean we can just pull straight in and then for me to climb a ladder, but I don’t trust my grip to do lock ladders, so we had to pull over for me to hop off. Above a hire boat was just arriving, they tied up and then held back. No offers to close gates or work paddles, I thought this a little bit odd, but each to their own. Wyre Lock is lozenge shaped and not very deep, 3ft 6”. The shape of it means that with a 58ft 6” boat you can’t get right into the side, so it took quite a bit of nudging back and forth before I couldn’t reach over far enough to hook up the bow line from the roof. With Oleanna secured I lifted the paddles slowly, she stayed put rising gently as a couple of chaps from the hire boat watched on.

Eventually the penny dropped, they weren’t waiting for the lock, but had pulled in on a 24hr mooring for lunch on the lock island, it just looked like a lock landing. The young chap offered to open up the gate for me and eventually he went to find a windlass to close the paddle, saving me a journey around the lock. At least it was ready for one of the four hire boats heading that way that we soon passed.

Wyre Piddle sits at the next bend of the river. Large houses each with their own moorings sit high above the river. Several new houses are going up along this stretch, suspect they aren’t in the affordable housing bracket!As you complete the bend you weave between a couple of islands, not that you’d realise it. Osier Island and Tiddle Widdle Island, what a great address that would make! Tiddle Widdle Island, Wyre Piddle, someone had a laugh when they named it.

The land now is low around the river and the blue skies made for a beautiful days cruise. Damselflies were out in their masses a couple stopped for a short break on our roof before floating off again.

The downside to the sun being out was that the tablet with waterway routes running on it kept suffering from heat exhaustion! We’d found a temporary route for a power cable, but it was getting too hot so stopped charging. We ended up moving it from side to side as the river twisted and turned positioning it in what shade we could find. We my need to fabricate it a little parasol so that it feels happier.

NB Chuffed came through this way about ten days ago and as soon as I saw the long rolling lawns down to the river I knew I needed to keep an eye out. The grass is all short, recently mown, but with no stripes up and down the hills as you’d expect from a traditional lawn mower, instead it looks like the operator had had a bottle of Jack Daniels, tracks all over the shop! But then I spotted the culpret, moving steadily along until it got too close to the waters edge. Here it paused then back tracked a little before swinging round and heading off in a new direction. A robot lawn mower. In fact there were at least three of them working away on the huge lawn. Hope they can find their way back home easily to recharge.

Fladbury Mill came into view sitting next to it’s unprotected weir. There is a narrow section leading up to the lock that you are meant to check is free from boats before entering, but you can’t see very far so we chanced it. The water coming over the weir was masses, Mick had to crank Oleannas engine up to get us through as she leaned over with the force of the water hitting us side on.

Ten days ago when NB Chuffed had passed the river level board was sitting high above the river, not even in the green. Today however we were most certainly in the amber a narrow band of about three inches between pleasant boating and not going anywhere! The lock was against us, so we had to be following someone as we’d passed about five hire boats going the other way this morning. Once empty, Oleanna tied up, she slowly raised in the lock.

Here you are advised to tie up as far away from the top gate as you can, when you open the paddles a plume of water arcs out across the chamber, if your boat is there to catch the water you could be in trouble!

It was quite late and we were both hungry so once out of the lock we reversed back onto the other side of the lock landing where the poles are painted blue (indicating a mooring). This was easier said than done, the water wanting us to carry on towards the weir and us preferring not to. Eventually we were tied up and able to have some lunch. Just next to us the Fladbury Ferry wires visible across the river and the ferry sitting waiting on the far bank.

Setting off from here was quite easy, the bow wanting to pull straight out and turn towards the weir, but we had other ideas and quickly hopped onboard to correct our course upstream. Under the railway bridge I’d passed over yesterday and past a golf course which was on a steep incline. Then after a mile the blue poles of a mooring came into view. Craycombe Turn is close to a busy road but considerably more rural than we suspect we’d find in Evesham so we pulled in. Except this wasn’t as easy as it should have been. Oleanna didn’t want to stay in at the side, the force of the current was pushing her out, luckily I was still on board as the centre line wasn’t going to be enough to pull her in. I brought the bow in and then the stern, but we really needed a line to be tied up before both of us were ashore as she really didn’t want to stay near the bank. It took us quite a bit to secure her, only to find the high flood safe poles were far too close together for our length.

Once we were happy we could relax. A quick check for cat safety and we decided that Tilly would be fine, just so long as she didn’t fall in as she’d be whisked away downstream before we knew it. I gave her a long talking to about the busy road and river before letting her out. Yada Yada Yada! Same old same old, if she thinks I listen to any of it! I was off into the long grass before she’d even finished. A bit noisy round here but the amount of dense friendly cover made up for it. There was plenty of pouncing to do.

As the afternoon went on Oleanna started to fill up again with fairies, a quick hoover round before bed would be needed again. I don’t think we’ve experienced quite so much Willow fluff before day after day. Tilly was keeping herself very busy. No need to be in amongst the friendly cover here. Bouncing up and down a bit like yoyos were masses of Mayflies, well that’s what I think they were. Tilly laid in the grass her head bobbing up and down in time with them. Occasionally one would land only to be pounced upon and munched. Others gave her the opportunity to practice her star jumps. She’d launch herself high into the air all four paws outstretched her tail wavering to guide her. Then she’d clap her front paws together hoping to knock a bouncing friend out of the air. Sometimes this worked and another one became a victim. It was just a shame she’s discovered Mayflies, who are only adults for a matter of a couple of days if that. The adults have no mouths so live off their reserves, the only things left to do in life is to fly and mate. If you are male then that is it, if you are female then you lay your eggs before you die. Some of course today had shorter lives.

Apologies if you’ve left a comment in the last few days. Normally I get an email informing me but something has been up with blogger. Carol from Still Rocking mentioned it in her post today, I then checked my awaiting comments box to find several I had no idea about. I know I’ve made comments on a couple of blogs recently which haven’t appeared, so if you are on blogger just check you haven’t got loads of comments awaiting moderation.

2 locks, 6.41 miles, 2 pints milk, 6 hirers watching on, 1 nice looking picnic, 4 more hire boats, 1 forceful weir, 1 green board, 1 amber, 1 late lunch stop, 2 canoes, 1 mooring on a bend, 1 very strong current, 265 yoyo flies, 5 pointed star jumps, 0 photos to prove it, 7 very tasty ones for my tea.

River Levels at 9am today

Pershore, 3.349m

Evesham, 0.755m

Stratford, 0.762m

Warwick, 1.244m

https://goo.gl/maps/v9zmXFfzwPP2

Pershore

With storm clouds collecting over the country I hoped that I’d manage to get to the station and across London to my meeting without getting a soaking today. All day I only encountered a bit of gentle drizzle much to my relief.

I’d decided on an early train to give myself some leeway rather than just having enough time to reach Fulham Broadway. The new trains on the GWR route into London were immaculate and quite comfy. The line though has single tracked sections so on a couple of occasions we had to wait for the track to be free, good job I had a couple of hours to spare, not five minutes. I kept myself busy on the train knitting up a few poppy petals for some friends in Scarborough, glancing out of the windows as meanders in the Avon came into view. Through Oxford the canal was in view at times and at Reading I could see a few boats on the Tesco moorings, thought these had been stopped.

At Paddington I looked round the station and discovered that there is now a Paddington Shop, solely for the sale of Paddington Bear merchandise. As a child I was lucky to have one of the original bears waiting under the Christmas tree when I was five, he couldn’t be wrapped up otherwise he’d have suffocated. Today the shop is filled with, in my opinion inferior PBs, only a few of the original sort which now sell for £65. A few years later Aunt Lucy knocked on the door on Christmas Eve, she’d come to check on Paddington and stayed. Only one Aunt Lucy in the shop today, she was smaller than mine, so obviously I have the original. My Paddington and Aunt Lucy have been guarding our possessions in Scarborough now for almost four years, they are doing a very good job.

I had a walk out to the basin. Outside the tube entrance there are now two large cafe/bar boats attached together by a staircase up to their roofs. That’s two more moorings in London lost, nice place for a drink though once the building site calms down behind it.

From here on to the end of the basin moorings boats were breasted up, widebeams two deep. Not many looked like they were visiting boats, most London boaters. The GoBoats have expanded on the pontoons, last year they had just started, today there were 11. All of them now protected with numerous fenders, or are they there to protect other boats! So another mooring gone to them too. The floating garden at the end of the basin has mooring for a cafe boat, but is empty.

Some of the mooring and information signs around the basin had been changed to the new blue ones, but I did spot an old one, so there hasn’t been a total clean sweep.

Across London to Fulham Broadway where quite a bit has changed in the last year. The old Underground station has been opened up as a bar and numerous food outlets with a large seating area in the middle, they also have free toilets. A nice use of an old station.

My meeting seemed to go well, a Director and Producer had wanted to meet with me face to face to check that they couldn’t put me off a show later in the year. They didn’t, I’ll hopefully hear next week, so fingers crossed.

Meanwhile back in Pershore. Mick did some washing, winded Oleanna and took her to fill with water. There seemed to have been a mass suicide of flies on our roof, it was covered, so this got a rinse down. With more boats moving today, quite a few arriving wanting water just as our tank was starting to fill. Once full he then brought Oleanna back and moored up. The whirligig was put on the tiller and he was hanging out the washing as a hire boat came in to moor in front of us.

Mick leant down for the next t-shirt to hang, looked up and could see a woman and her dog from the hire boat in the river! The boat had pulled in, son managed to pull the dog out that then ran off, followed by the son. But what about Mum?! When son had been told to leave the dog and to hold onto the boat, Mick and Dad managed to hoik Mum out of the river. It’s quite a long way down from the bank here and there are no ladders too help in such situations. After half an hour and a shower she seemed fine and later on they carried on down stream.

My journey back was a little delayed, but that did mean I managed to catch an earlier train. As I walked back to the boat the skies were looking darker and darker, but luckily the down pour waited until later in the evening with spectacular thunder and lightening. During the afternoon we’d received a notice informing us that the river upstream was now in the Amber, just hope the rain doesn’t push it back up!

Why the title of the post? Whilst in London I hunted down a pot of yoghurt, my preferred sort not available in Pershore. So if I don’t get the show then that pot of yoghurt cost me over £70 in train fares!

0 locks, 1100ft, 2 winds, 2 trains, 2 tubes, £65 for an original (wonder how much my Aunt Lucy would be worth? she’s priceless to me), 1 reused station, 2nd meeting, 1 of 2, 30 minutes, 1 cup of tea, 1 Lord on the tube, 16 petals, 1 empty wee tank, 1 full water tank, 1 drenched Mum, 1 river rescue, 1 cat enjoying being on the pram hood too much! 1 amber notice, 1 hour of torrential rain.

(Yesterdays) River Levels at 9am and todays

Pershore, (3.419m), 3.38m

Evesham, (0.9m), 0.836m

Stratford, (0.768m), 0.72m

Warwick, (1.467m), 1.283m