Bungalow Bridge 59 to Market Harborough Visitor Moorings
Boats were on the move before us, six came from the direction of Foxton, would this mean that the top six locks would be in our favour? No. Foxton isn’t like that, in fact few places are, yet we always joke about it. We pushed off just as our nearest neighbours were coming back from stretching their legs, they’d be following us very shortly.
As we rounded the bend to the top of the locks we were very surprised not to be joining a queue. I hopped off and walked down to find the Lock Keeper with the book to check in.
Here as at Watford the staircase locks mean one way traffic only. Here there is one place you can pass, a pound between the two staircases of five. The book holder was just above the halfway point with a boat going down hill, they now swapped with a hire boat that had been waiting for them in the middle pound. Our instructions, when this boat came up, we’d be going down, at the moment there were no uphill boats.
We waited patiently at the top, had a look around the old stables, sadly it was far too early for chilled medication. Once the hire boat had come up we pushed off and into the top lock. Boats had arrived at the bottom so we’d get to the middle pound and wait for them to come up. The boats behind us would have quite a wait before it was their turn.
Red before white. The Lock Keeper pushed and pulled the towpath side gates for me. A new volunteer was being shown the ropes as it were, they’d be starting in the book shop at the top, but it’s handy for them to know what the flight is about so they helped with the gates too and were given bits of information as we descended.
The first gongoozlers joined us at the very top lock, some following us down, some just getting in the way of paddle winding, but they are happy to stand back to watch.
Boats were coming up the other set of five, we were making good progress down, a pause required before dropping down into the middle pound as the red paddle needed lifting for an uphill boat and it was by their chamber, then I could lift the white paddle. In this order it saves the water from our chamber just flowing over the bywash instead of being used to fill the lower chamber.
The Lock Keeper had a handy hook to lift our centre line from the roof as we passed under the bridge, now we were to pull into the side and wait for four boats to come past before we could continue on down.
One lady on an uphill boat walked away from the chamber below, ‘I’ve left the gate for you, oh and the paddle’s still up over there’. But what about those boats following you? She soon turned round and went to close up behind herself. The last boat up, wound the red paddle up long before the white was even thought about. Mick and I jumped back on board to loosen ropes as the level dropped, Oleanna did a jolt as the stern line was untied.
A forty minute wait before we could continue on downwards. More and more gongoozlers at this end of the flight, one lady with her kids grew up having boat holidays, she explained to the kids how it worked, but didn’t stop them from balancing on posts close to the water! I asked the Lock Keeper, ‘4000 boats go through the locks on an average year, has anyone ever counted the number of gongoozlers?’ One sunny August day someone had had a go and they’d numbered 2000. I’m so glad we didn’t have that number around us today, it would be impossible to see Mick at the helm.
At the last few locks there was no need to push gates we’d got ourselves gate pushers on both sides. Mick pulled the stern into the landing below the locks, handed over a key of power and then started to swing Oleanna round to head towards Market Harborough. I walked round to do the honours, passing the bottom lock now waiting for the first of the uphill boats who would most likely wait in the middle pound like we had for the downhill boats behind us.
The bridge worked nicely, the bridge landings thankfully not required as a day boat was trying to tie to the bollards to head for a pub lunch. Winding your rope round a bollard six times might just do the trick, I wonder if anyone at the hire base shows them how to tie up?
At Foxton Swing Bridge I could see someone wearing blue. This bridge often seems to have problems, I wondered if someone was posted here to open and close it, but the bridge didn’t move. I walked over to see what was happening. Two chaps were working on it. One suggested we moor up and have lunch, the other said to give him a few minutes and they’d swing it open for us. This they did and we were on our way again.
As the crow flies Market Harborough is a couple of miles away, by canal it’s more like five. We pootled along passing the winding hole where we’d turned on our hire boat NB May all those years ago, not enough time to get all the way to Market Harborough. An aroma in the air was hard to fathom. Could it be cheese on toast? Maybe with a touch of yeast extract added? No it turned out to be J.G. Pears they do something with food waste, maybe they’d had a lot of cheese on toast arrive!
It’s been quite some years since we came this way. Four years since we came down Foxton heading straight to the north. A footbridge has gone and now a long stretch of towpath is being upgraded right in to Union Wharf. As we progressed closer to the town the works gradually progressed from bare earth, timber sides, hardcor, fresh earth on the edge, tarmac and sausage roll planting along the edges. We wondered if the planting would end up being all along here making it hard to moor out of town.
Brilliant a space at the end of the moorings, except it was for permit holders only. Thankfully there was a space further along and a boat pulled out meaning we wouldn’t have to moor directly on a big bend. Tilly was allowed out and we sat down for a late lunch.
Barking, barking close to the boat! Where was Tilly? We rushed out to see Tilly on the top of a garden fence a woofer barking below. Between us and the woofers owners the situation was solved, she took her dog inside, I encouraged Tilly back to the boat where the doors were closed. Tom had spoken, I wasn’t allowed out again, apparently I don’t understand urban areas with gardens, sheds, french windows and woofers in their outsides. So not fare!
A walk to the Co-op and Post Office. The Co-op (new to us) too pricey and not much choice for provisions for the next few days. We got what we really needed and will take the long walk through town tomorrow for a good stock up.
Back at the basin more boats had arrived, many taking up a paid for mooring with electric right by the restaurant. One poor hire boat came back to base early, saw that it was far busier than expected, winded a headed back out only to return an hour later looking fed up and very hungry. They found somewhere to moor in the end as they didn’t come past again.
10 locks, 2 sets of five staircase, 6 miles, 40 minutes wait, 1 right, 2 swing bridges, 0 held up, £2.95 for four half slices of cheese on toast, 1 cat grounded, 1 woofer silenced, 1 spoil sport Tom, 1 horrid She! 2 spot on wormers, 1 pint milk, 2 loaves of bread, 1 coach in the post.
