Bollington Underpass, Bridgewater Canal

Overnight we were woken on several occasions with torrential rain or was it hail beating down on Oleanna. This continued throughout the day and evening, interspresed with bright sunshine every now and again. Strong strong winds whistled round, rocking Oleanna. Maybe our position on the embankment had given us a windy mooring, maybe it was like this everywhere.

Extra poppers needed popping on the cratch cover. Doing this I somehow tweeked my back. After 91 broad locks and walking into Manchester I go and tweek it by sitting on a locker and pressing a popper!

Hail bounced up under the mushroom vents, landing on the dinette table, sofa and bed.

The weather, nose blowing (we’ve now both got colds) was not conducive for a visit to Dunham Massey! Even Tilly curled up on the sofa for much of the day in switched off mode. So what to do?

Breakfast of course, it was medicinal honest!

I got the blog upto date and then spent time weaving ends in on socks. There will be several pairs going in the post very soon, when I find the next post box.

Mick did some route planning. Now we are over the Pennines, we feel a touch more confident in planning our route southwards. There are people we’d like to meet up with, trips back to Scarborough to be factored in, dentists and would we be able to support the Fund britains Waterways campaign cruise on the Thames from a bridge? We now have a plan and just need to see if friends and family will be free as we pass.

Surprisingly quite a few boats came past, all at speed to keep their line in the blustery wind. Mick popped his head out the hatch. A boat that had moored up after we’d arrived was on the off side. Was this intentional by the owner to avoid the worst effects of the fresh air? Or had their spikes been pulled out by wind and passing boaters? He waited for the next bout of hail to pass and went to have a look.

The wind assisted for a bit, pushing the boat back across to the towpath, with our boat hook Mick managed to catch it. The ropes had been tied to the spikes so there was still a means of attaching the boat to the bank. He hammered in the stern pin, then gradually worked his way along. Centre line followed by the bow. All single pins, just how far had they been hammered into the soft ground. Now they were hammered down as far as they possibly could be, hopefully the boat would be staying put.

0 locks, 0 miles, 0 outdoor shoes for me today, 1 dormant cat, 319.5 miles to reach our goal, 4 lemsips, 1 stove lit, 5 pairs socks ready for photos and posting, 1 tweeked back, 1 fat foot, 2 boaters falling to bits here!