On holidays as a child my Mum was in charge of the weather. If there was a dodgy forecast she would sort it to be much better, sun would be conjured up instead of rain, a light cooling breeze instead of gale force winds. Today we had a storm named after my Mum. Now either she’s lost her touch or the Met Office gave the storm the wrong name!
Last night we had rain, quite a lot of it. This morning the winds followed. Our mooring seemed to be quite sheltered, the hedge keeping us out of the worst effects of the fresh air. Across the other side of the canal was a different matter the trees swaying, bending over with the gusts. Narrowboats and such winds do not mix. Other boaters didn’t seem to agree as we were passed by quite a few. We however decided to give Tilly a few hours shore leave.
When we thought things were improving I checked Windy a handy app for wind, the gusts were still pretty strong into the afternoon. So much for catching up with ourselves today! We decided to give Tilly some more shore leave and wait until after lunch before pushing off.
The wind had certainly eased by the time we pushed off, we made our way to Weston Lock. With my knee seeming to be improving I wanted to see if I could work the locks today. Weston was just about empty when we arrived, a wind of a paddle and it was soon ready. Everything was manageable, just the pushing of the top gate a little bit hard.
On the South Oxford and the GU lock beams requiring attention have been sawn off and a new red wood box extension added to help them last that bit longer. Here on the T&M this Meccano solution seems to be the way. Angle irons on each corner are held tightly around the beam with threaded bars, reminiscent of medical cages put round shattered legs.
We now pootled along towards Sandon Lock, past the pretty manicured gardens of Weston. At the length of moorings just before the railway and A51 get cosy with the canal a boat was wanting to pull out to wind. They waited for us to pass, then would have to wait for another boat too.
Up ahead on the slight bend I looked to see how Dante was doing. A boat was missing from it’s mooring, Dante and the other dogs normally on top of a boat were all missing. Maybe finally they had succumbed to the wet weather of an outdoor life, maybe they’d been sold off to the cuddly toy slave trade, maybe they were drying out in a shed?
At Sandon Lock, I chose to work the lock again. A family riding bikes crossed over the bridge, then came back to watch Oleanna rise up in the lock. It was good to be back on the bank winding the windlass, pushing gates. Sadly my knee reminded me that my problem has not gone away, it’s just masked by painkillers and slightly eased by exercises.
We had a choice of were to moor, the first possibility looked good with views across the fields and was empty. We pulled in and let Tilly out. The sun was out and the wind dropping, maybe a barbeque? Then the skies became dark, maybe we’d eat indoors instead.
As I was preparing things to go into the oven a boat suddenly went into reverse alongside us. Electric boats sneak up on you and it was only their decision to stop that made me look up from what I was doing. NB Electric Dragon was seen earlier this year in Birmingham, Karen met previously last year as she was training guide leaders on NB Tuptonia. Karen was originally going to pull in leaving a big gap, but on seeing it was us a smaller gap would be good.
After we’d all had food we convened on board Electric Dragon, chance to chat, get to know each other and hear tales of their boat build, Hawne Basin, and their recent troubles with their generator which had been fixed this morning. A lovely evening with good company, Tilly was a little upset that she’d not been allowed to join us, Well I always like a good nosy around other boats! Dragon looked nice and new too!
2 locks, 4.3 miles, 1 blowy morning, 2 hours cruised not 3, 2 hours shore leave, 1 aching knee, 1 painting finished, 1 silent dragon, 1 very pleasant evening with new friends, 1 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.
1 lock down from the top of Buckby Flight to past Bridge 88, North Oxford Canal
The Geraghty zoom didn’t go as well as normal. Despite good upload speeds and the internet otherwise seemingly fine, all of Mick’s siblings kept freezing, we reciprocated at their end. The IT department had a go at sorting it out, but failed. We still caught bits of the conversation though, insulation and Bumble Bees, Cherry Pickers Finger and the Chinese falling off things. We ended up leaving early as there was little point in us remaining.
Up the last lock of the Buckby flight, everyone else had moved off long ago, at least we’d missed the rush.
As Oleanna rose the last few feet Barry Manilow was singing his heart out along the cut. Once he’d stopped for a breather Karen Carpenter started up, followed by Dr Hook. None of the boats on the moorings looked like they had their doors or windows open, so it must have been SO loud inside. As we filled with water and delt with the yellow water it kept my toes tapping.
Up to Norton Junction. A quiet horn could be heard, we were far enough back for a boat to turn, then nothing. A dog walker had been taking her time along the towpath, I think she’d prompted the boat coming from the Leicester Section to sound their horn again, by now we were just out of their view but at the junction, we sounded our horn in reply and carried on knowing we’d clear the junction and be out of their way quickly.
The scenic view moorings were quite busy, but there would have been space for one this morning? Approaching the tunnel we passed at least three boats having just come through from Braunston, the question was, how many would we meet in there?
A view straight through to the other end, this meant we’d get past the wiggly bit before we met anyone. If fact we’d reached the far end just as a boat approached turning it’s light on. Behind we were being followed, a locking partner, however it was time for our lunch. Tilly approved of our mooring through the window, that was as close as she was going to get!
Mick looked up from his lunch. ‘Did you lock The Shed and upstairs upstairs at the house? I didn’t!’ Neither had I. New lodgers due today, one of whom we’ve known for decades and would trust, the other a very brand new actress. I’m sure she’d be fine, but you never know. A lodger earlier in the year had asked why the doors were locked and we’d rather be asked that question. A quick think, who could we ask to pop round within the hour and give the house a quick check as Darren was meant to have left this morning. A message sent to Sue who’s Aunt used to own our house and she lives pretty close, instructions given on how to get in.
We moved up to the lock, a boat appeared behind us. Sue had gained access, I’d warned her that a bed might not have been made up, I’d also had the feeling that Darren might have just left things not as he’d found them. This feeling turned out to be correct. Sue made up the bed, hoovered round, emptied bins, what a star. Then a message came through. ‘There’s a lot of used towels in the bathroom’. I usually do a last minute check round the house before we leave, but due to my knee I’d not wanted to go back up the stairs and had assumed Mick would have dealt with them, a bit like the keys! Oh heck what rubbish landlords leaving their own towels about the place! Sue was still about when our first lodger arrived, jobs just about done, we owe someone a big drink when we next see her. If we hadn’t had the chap in last week as a favour to the theatre, we’d have at least left the bed made, bins emptied, but the towels might still have been there. Mental note made for next turn around, Must do better!
Our locking partners were a couple from Tasmania over to see family and spend a week relaxing on a hire boat, they do it every couple of years. I felt a touch bad constantly checking my phone and talking towels for much of the flight. Plenty of boats coming up and at least one behind us, quite hot on our heels where the locks only have ground paddles.
We’d considered stopping for a loaf of bread, word from the up hill boats that there was no room in Braunston. Mick bobbed into the shop at the bottom lock, a treat loaf of bread bought we’d no longer need to stop. Midland Chandlers is closed on a Sunday so no filters could be bought.
We counted at least five spaces as we came through Braunston. Hardly full, apart from in front of the pub. The bridge into the marina was having work done to it, big areas of white paint missing and hessian covering the top stones. Onwards past Braunston Turn, straight onto the North Oxford, still more spaces.
Once through bridge 88 we spied a length of armco and pulled in. Tilly was allowed an hour and a half by which time we were surrounded by more boats. Our nearest neighbours a Dutch family saying that Braunston was full. Here was now, maybe we’d just timed our cruising well today.
6 locks, 5.6 miles, 3 golden oldies, 1 full water tank, 1 empty wee tank, £3+ for a loaf of bread, 4 towels left out, 2 keys, 2 new lodgers, 1 disappointing lodger, 1 super star of a Stage Manager, 1 tunnel, 0 boats passed, 2 mysterons, 90 minutes.
Burnt Oak Bridge to Fenny Stratford 1 day moorings
A bit of a rush around this morning as our visitors were on their way, walking towards us from the Soulbury 3. Mick had just about sorted the covers out when they arrived. Time for a cuppa and enough time to bake some biscuits for later.
The last time we caught up with Mike and Chris was at the very end of 2019. They valiantly joined us to work up Hatton and Lapworth over a couple of days in the cold. Mike was a couple of years above me at college, we became good friends during our time in Croydon.
We pootled up to the top of Soulbury. Here Mick and Chris headed off with windlasses to set the lock. A boat was just coming up and there were two volunteers on hand to assist also. Chris and Mike are very keen to work locks so Mick took on a more supervisory role.
There was a lot of news to catch up on. Health matters. Aging mothers and a passed Aunt. Chris three years ago had moved out from London to near Newport Pagnall so they were very handy for today.
The locks whizzed by. At the bottom Chris headed off to move their car to Stoke Hammond Lock leaving us to cruise there, he’d be there way before us, or so we thought!
A widebeam It’s Five O’clock Somewhere was on the water point, we’d seen it earlier as we’d had a cuppa before setting off. On we pootled, conversation never halting, Douglas Adams and Monty Python quotes a plenty.
As we’d set off later than planned we decided to pull up just short of Stoke Hammond for a sandwich. Chris had arrived before us, but then was told it was a private road and if he stayed where he was parked someone would block him in on purpose! So he had to move elsewhere, he was given directions to a bridge behind us. Once he’d parked up he joined the towpath. It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere came past, logically to Chris, the widebeam was ahead of us so he started to walk. When the side of the pub came into view he realised his mistake, he’d walked back to where he’d started! Poor fella, his step count would more than make up for mine for the day.
Lunch and then down Stoke Hammond. The flowers are still as good as ever above the lock. With gates closed Chris set off again to walk back to the car, so glad we don’t have to do car shuffles. Just as we were about to set off again I realised we were a windlass short. There had been three at the top of Soulbury, Chris had one and Mick had one. We halted and had a check round, there it was in the grass.
Christmas exchanges between Mike and myself had consisted of suggestions that we would meet up when we next came through MK, which is what has happened. I jokingly had said that they could come and assist at Fenny Stratford Lock as it was such hard work! With only an 11″ height difference and a swing bridge it is very easy.
We passed It’s Five O’clock Somewhere moored up for the day, safely out of confusions way. Chris of course had made it to the lock far quicker than us. A boat having come up the lock had pulled in on the services leaving the lock and swing bridge wide open. Straight into the lock. With only one paddle at the bottom end working I was determined to work the lock, leaving the boys to close gates I wound the paddle up. What a nice feeling, it’ll be the only one I do for a while sadly.
On the 1 day mooring ahead was one boat with a space behind it. That boat was familiar and once we’d moored up Mick knocked on the roof of NB Sola Gratia. Tim and Tracey were at home with both Loki and Ozzie their woofers. Our boats have passed each other in the last few years but the last time we had a chat we had just followed them up to Titford Pumphouse in early 2020 and they were just heading off to pick up Ozzie.
A meal sat outside The Red Lion was nearly thwarted when we were told the chef had gone home for the day, Saturday 6pm! We made use of their shore based facilities before regrouping to decide what to do. By which time the kitchen was open again!
Their scampi was gluten free, a rare treat. A shame their chips were overly salted. Micks Gammon looked to be the best out of everyones meal. Mike insisted on paying, his treat, well a treat from his Aunt Edna who is sadly no longer with us. Apparently she is very generous since she’s passed away.
Time to wish our crew for the day farewell, hopefully we’ll see then far sooner than another four years. Now we know they are half based in MK we’ll try to time our visits to the area at weekends so we can meet up. Shame we’ll be doing Stoke Bruerne during the week!
5 locks, 5.3 miles, 10,000 plus steps for Chris, 3 windlasses, 5pm 2 many times, 1 college friend, 1 brilliant beard, 1 genetic mutation, 1 wobbly Mike, 3 photographers, 1 hours shore leave, 0 chef, 1 chef, 10grams of salt (at least), 1 doggie boat, 2 woofers, 1 lovely day.
A bus into Aylesbury for a hire car, £100 cheaper for the weekend than from Hemel Hempstead! The washing machine constantly on the go, an extra £5 added to the electric post needing to be used. We both packed a bag with party clothes, evening dingding was served three hours early, Tilly was left in charge. No magic food bowl?!
If we’d wanted to we’d have been able to reach our destination on Oleanna, this would have meant some long days in the rain and on arrival it wouldn’t have been quite so handy. We could have taken the train and a bus or two, some distances to walk would have been involved but the fares were way more expensive than just hiring a car.
Our route took us along narrow lanes, sign posts to Cheddington, glimpses of the Grand Union, through Ivinghoe, all places we know from the water. Grove Lock, around Leighton Buzzard, The Soulbury Three, Stoke Hammond. Then the roundabouts of Milton Keynes took us further east and up to the M1. We didn’t manage to glimpse a look at the Northampton Flight, or Long Buckby, but the big trees that accompany the canal to the Watford Flight were easy to spot after the service station. At Junction 18 we turned off, Crick, well the Holiday Inn at Crick.
We checked in, explored our compact room which of course was the furthest away possible! Mick flicked the TV on, Robbie Cumming making his way along the GU, only just managing to get through the Soulbury Three before it closed for winter maintenance, as if he didn’t know!
Time to join the party, Lizzie’s 50th Birthday party.
What a lovely evening it was. People from most of Lizzies life, family, Watford Palace Theatre (where we first met in the 90’s), Cemex, the boating world, most of her current colleagues from Unusual were busy working on the Olympics in Paris, plenty to keep them busy out there.
Jeremy who was once the Production Manager at Watford Palace Theatre, He employed me to paint scenery for a while and the two of us interviewed Lizzie for the Scenic Artist job there shortly after she left college. Jeremy also helped Lizzie when she first bought NB Panda, moving her from Birmingham, Jeremy having lived on a boat during his Watford days. Our paths also crossed further north when we both ended up on the Yorkshire coast. He’s now quite a useful source of info on the Beverley Beck!
Over the last ten years we’ve gradually got to know various boaters through Lizzie. Noel and Carolyn, Noel had been the Harbour Master at Crick when we first bought Lillian, he managed to find a space for her in the run up to Crick Boat show in 2014 where we gradually moved on board.
Andy and Irene from NB Kamilli. Our bows have crossed a few times and hopefully they may do again this summer. The NB Adagio crew, I’ve lost their names now, but we wave whenever we pass the Cape of Good Hope.
Then John and Ali from NB Triskaideka. We’d once met on a street corner in Crick, only briefly, but Ali and I have been I touch recently. There was lots to talk about with them, very similar boaters to us with the same attitudes to boating and the waterways community. Plenty of red wine was drunk on our table and by the end of the evening we knew we’d be stopping to have a bottle or two more with them when our bows cross.
Several faces familiar from around Crick. One lady who worked for ABNB and Neil Stuttle who fits out boats. Then sat next to Mick were the Tuckey’s, yes the crane and boat movers. Lizzie used to help move boats around Crick marina before and after the boat show so has known them for quite some years. Both Mick and I asked them if they’d had lots of enquiries from boats on the Lancaster Canal, the sealock on the Ribble Link has developed a fault meaning boats could be stuck there through the winter. It was interesting as they are asked for quotes for such things, but people rarely tell them the reason, they had no idea about the stoppage despite having had numerous calls.
Plenty to talk about, some nice food and plenty to drink, we lasted until the big lights came on at the end of the night!
In the morning we joined the masses for breakfast, plenty of people had stayed including Lizzie. Time to catch up again over a cooked breakfast before everyone headed off in their separate directions. A lovely time had by all, good to catch up with people, maybe we’d bump into them all again if we headed to Stratford, but we have other plans. Thank you Lizzie for having a big Birthday and for inviting us.
Back down the M1 being tailed by the Kamilli crew for about 20 miles. Then round Milton Keynes, past all the land marks back to Cowroast Marina and Tilly, who had done her job very well whilst we were away.
For the last week we’ve been trying to catch up with my college friend Jen who lives in Hemel, her current job not allowing her time to come and help us through some locks. As we had a car we headed back to Hemel, a slight diversionary route giving us more narrow roads and just missing Winkwell Swing Bridge back to theFishery Wharf Cafe to meet up with her and her dog Monty a very well behaved Collie.
Lots to catch up on, Jen is a fantastic scenic artist and used to work at the National Theatre. Now she freelances and has worked on various films and tv series. I believe she said she work on the props for the latest Ghost Buster film and currently is slapping paint on scenery for a new Netflix series about the Guiness family Last year she also painted some very wonderful panto cloths for Bury St Edmonds.
Recently she’s had an operation on her foot, so the two of us hobbled away from the cafe after a couple of hours.
Back at the boat we settled down for some food and a night in front of the TV, Dr Who with the Beatles. It was obvious what our nearest neighbours would be watching tonight, but thankfully after one rendition of Sweet Carolyn they must have headed to the pub garden to watch the game. A muffled roar from somewhere made us check the score. The quietness that followed suggested that Spain had scored more than one goal. Everyone returned to the marina quite quietly.
0 locks, 0 miles, 1 Fiat 500, M1 twice, 1 very good party, 2 official photographers, 1 offer of crew, 1 problematic bridge, 1 tray, pair 29 well under way, 1 painter and hound, 1 free sausage, 1 nice cafe, 1 musical baddy, 1 quiet night in with Tilly, still 9.75 digits.
Ballot Box Bridge to River Colne Aqueducts, Slough Arm, Grand Union Canal
The diesel tank hasn’t been filled since Pyrford Marina, the gauge showing quarter full. Mick doesn’t like the tank to be so low, in fact it may only have been so low once and that was when we picked her up from Finesse in Sheffield, just enough diesel put in her tank for test cruises. The question was, how accurate is the tank gauge? Did we need to seek out diesel today or could it wait for another day or two. The tank was dipped, 10 inches, plenty to keep us going.
We made our way back to Bulls Bridge, the moorings by Tesco empty today, well apart from the sunken boat! We pulled in, had lunch, made a shopping list, moved the Larry banner to the cratch for it to be seen better and then went shopping.
With everything stowed it was time to get Mick away from chatting to a chap doing his best to avoid polishing his boat, leaving it to his wife. We winded at the junction and started to head northwards. In the last two years quite a lot has changed. Today numerous cranes sat to the east, the start of some buildings. Tower blocks that were going up are now full of people and the landscaping we saw being put in is now tall with plants.
Three miles or so on is Murderers Bridge (Colham Bridge) where in 2015 we said our final goodbye to our first second mate Houdini. Today Tilly was shouting on the top step Free the Paddington One! Tree filled outsides for boat cats!! Friendly cover for all!!! This election has really gone to her head!
At Cowley Peachy Junction we turned westwards onto the Slough Arm. We only cruised the first stretch back in 2015 when we couldn’t get further due to ice. I’m not sure where we moored for the night back then, today we tried pulling in just after the entrance into Packet Boat Marina, Mick managed to get off with a rope, but that was it, Oleanna wasn’t going to come in any more.
The moorings further along looked busy, we chanced it, hoping for a space. Several boats moored up, most looked like they were busy doing jobs. One space between boats might have been long enough, we carried on, a space at the end, better for Tilly. A chap chatted and helped with ropes. A fellow came over from his campsite on the offside for a cuppa. Akeem, I think that was his name, was very chatty, he was busy doing up a boat ready for sale, a coat of red oxide going on the exterior today.
When asked where we’d come from he said, ‘Oh you can’t moor in Paddington anymore!’ We explained that we’d paid and were quite grateful to know we had a mooring waiting for us. Through the years we’ve taken our chances in London like everyone else, reserved moorings when they were free, squeezed onto the Eco moorings when people have overstayed and paid to tie up in Paddington. I suspect we’d still visit London no matter what the mooring situation was, as we’ve both lived there and have friends and family we want to see. But now it’s reassuring to know we’ll have somewhere to tie up on arrival. Time will tell if there are now too many bookable moorings. Many visiting boaters won’t flock to London until they know the system is working, hearing tales of booked moorings being occupied on arrival doesn’t help the situation. London boaters choose to look when the moorings are empty. Yes they are not as full as they were when they were cheaper and the locations fewer. Only C&RT will know the true figures as they can see the bookings and get feed back from their mooring rangers.
We settled in and Tilly was given a hours shore leave, at least it stopped her charging back and forth shouting about her rights and how once Larry was PM things would change, Salmon and real real chicken for dingding every day!
0 locks, 9.9 miles, 2 lefts, 1 wind, 2 boxes wine, 1 hour shore leave, 26.5 pairs knitted, 1 very political cat, 1 card returned, 1 knee improving, not much walking being done though.
First things first. Time to vote. Signed, crossed and sealed, Mick walked to the nearest post box outside a Post Office and popped our votes in the post box.
Yesterday one of our items of post was a campaign t-towel for Tilly. This was hung in our window to show her allegiance to Larry. There was then a lot of Freedom for Cats in Paddington! shouted about the boat before she gave up and headed back to bed.
Last night the return from Hackney proved a touch painful for my knee. Yes we had to walk a distance, but not that far. Todays plan had been to head to Hampstead Theatre for brunch and have a look around Central School of Speech and Drama. To conserve my knee, brunch was moved to Paddington and a look around the college put off for another time. My college friend Kathy arrived and we found a table outside in the shade at The Union where we enjoyed a very nice brunch at a reasonable price and very good company.
Kathy is a lecturer in Theatre Design at Central and spent some of our time together trying to convince me to join the Society of British Theatre Designers council. This would mean I’d have to join the society in the first place! I’d considered joining when my agent said she was retiring, therefore the commission I used to pay to her could go towards membership of such organisations. I’ll have a another think about it.
After a couple of hours it was time for her to head off to talk at the college open day, we returned to Oleanna for a quiet afternoon. Pair 26 of my Sockathon was cast off, I’m halfway through! £975 raised so far. The other day I had a sock shot sent from Liza Goddard showing off her Red Rye socks I’d knitted for her. Thank you Lil for your sponsorship, may your socks keep your toes cosy in many theatrical digs when you are on tour.
It was also the first day of the Tour De France. Ten years ago we’d reached Hebden Bridge in NB Lillyanne for the opening stage of the tour. Today not so many people walked past Oleanna in Paddington as happened ten years ago and there was no big screen to watch the cyclists for longer than a few seconds zooming past the boat.
Early evening we caught the tube to Kings Cross and walked up Pentonville Road to Mildreds. Here a quiet table tucked away had been requested by Nick and Kerry so they could bring Harry their whippet with them. Our table wasn’t quite as tucked away as hoped but the staff said we’d be better off where we were, sure enough they were good to their word, the other two thirds of the restaurant became packed out, our third just the five of us. Very nice food, I had a pineapple peanut curry with rice noodles followed by a plant based crème brule. Nick’s chocolate peanut butter fudge was what we’d jokingly expected, two cubes.
A pint somewhere was now sought. A walk round to a nice quiet back street pub, sadly they’d a DJ in for the evening, so the pub was rejected. It did mean we got to see the wonderful Grade 2 Keystone Crescent.
In the end we opted for a pint at The John Betjeman Arms at St Pancras Station. They had gluten free beer, they had an area where we could sit in the station, but that was closing in ten minutes! We made the most of it before moving inside for more beer and conversation. The last time all five of us were round a pub table in London it was the night of the 2017 General Election.
Another lovely day catching up with people.
0 locks, 0 miles, 1 college best mate, 1 oldest best mate, 1 cat campaign, 1 Harry, 1 problematical knee!
We enjoyed our cuppas in bed. Enjoyed a cooked breakfast that only just fitted onto our plates. I caught up with blog writing, new waters always have loads of photos to sift through, I think I’d taken around 200 yesterday!
Other things needed to happen too, the engine needed a service. Not a full 750 hour service. The engine oil, gear box oil were changed along with the air filter. The diesel filter will be changed another time, we need to get one before the next 250 hour service.
The engine needs to be warm for a service, but not too hot. We thought of moving up to the next mooring a short distance further on. I went to do a recky. A clearer bank to moor to, it also looked as if the depth was better. It was just the abundance of school kids playing hookie, or appearing to be that put me off. Lots of squealing from one girl about the geese, the lads being overly unsupportive. This wasn’t the main part of my report back, they would move on soon, well the goose freaked girl ran a mile when one of them got out.
Just by the mooring is the Frimley Miniature Railway, not in operation today, but the sheds were a good place for youths doing deals and the aroma was quite pungent! We’d leave them to it and stay put for the day. They did move on as I walked back through the park, at great speed in a car!
So Mick ran the engine for a while, then donned his overalls. He gave the new oil pump a go that we’d bought in Lidl a few weeks ago, all good.
I caught up with writing cards, mostly condolence cards sadly. There have been too many deaths in the last couple of weeks. Several not unexpected of ninety year olds, but also Jack Brady a large quietly spoken actor who used to work at Hull Truck, still in his fifties.
Then I turned my attention to lighter matters, a retirement, on-line card needed signing and photos sending and then reminiscences to add to a 60th birthday book.
Mick had been in touch with Nebo regarding our none working Nebolink, this didn’t work yesterday to record our journey up the locks. They suggested that the position of the unit may be at fault, gaps in our tracking suggested this. Well up till yesterday the majority of our journeys have been recorded, a few gaps, mostly when in the bottom of locks, or so we thought. So Mick ran through the trouble shooting that they suggested, each one requiring an hour between them. The unit was unscrewed form under the 20mm thick wooden cratch board and popped on the roof. Turned off then on again. Nothing, not even a change of location. He then tried checking the sim was in properly. Nothing. Followed by a hard restart. Nothing.
Another email was sent with screen shots showing satellite locations that Mick’s phone had picked up from under the cratch board. We’ll see what the next step is tomorrow when Australia wakes up.
Frank fancied our cheese, so a catch up chat with him and important key identification, we’d given him one a few years ago, just in case. Phone signal in the boat wasn’t so good, so I opened up the towpath side of the cratch, just flinging the cover onto the top so I could sit comfortably on a locker to chat. There were a couple of things we’d forgotten to put out at the house so Frank was to call when he got there.
Tilly and I had a bit of a play on the towpath. We inspected what Mick was up to in the engine bay. A glance down the towpath and I spotted a woofer off the lead. As we’ve now had at least two moments of woofers rudely running up to Tilly and barking I suggested that maybe we should both get back on the boat. The bow a little bit away from the bank. I stepped on, so did Tilly. She then decided that she’d rather watch the woofer from a higher position and jumped up to be on the cratch.
WHAT THE……..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My calculations had been correct. My potential and kinetic energy perfect. Despite my landing being on the top of the cratch, the cover slipped under my weight, slipped over the edge, slipped over the edge with me on it. I slipped over the edge and then downwards the mutual attraction caused by gravity pulled me towards the water. SPLASH!!!!!
Oh crikey. I turned to see Tilly, head above the water facing the boat, I had to adjust my position to assist, by which time there was nothing to grab onto. Turning towards the bank there was nothing there either!!! This way Tilly, this way. Thankfully she swam towards me, I managed to get both hands under her and hoiked her out and into the welldeck. Rescue successful. Now attention turned to the amount of water there was in Tilly’s fur and everywhere in the boat!
One continuous puddle from the welldeck through the bedroom, bathroom, across the sofa and floor, across the dinette to the drawing board slot, where she’d managed to soak a little into the towel there. The towel and Tilly were picked up put in the bathroom both doors closed and given as much of a towel rub as I was allowed to do. I apologise to other boaters for soaking up SO much water and reducing the canal depth by at least a paws worth!
Encouraging her to sit on her bed to dry off took a bit of time, but we got there in the end. Then the mopping up could start whilst Tilly licked herself dry. A full hour, thank goodness the canal is an SSSI.
Gradually Tilly dried out, under her collar always remains slightly soggy for a while. At least the water had got rid of all the dust she’d been rolling in on the towpath. In it’s place was super soft bouffanted fur. The locals pay a fortune for this look, mine was all DIY!
For the rest of the day Tilly stayed in, not wanting to venture far. The afternoon was cold enough for us to light the fire, so the damp one took up her position to make the most of it. We got soggy bums from sitting anywhere, thankfully our bed had missed the tidal wave she’d brought in with her.
This outside will NOT be awarded a stamp of approval, the woofers can keep it!
A few boat movements today, a patrol boat that looked like it was picking up rubbish. Later on a boat pulled up on the mooring ahead of us and an hour or so later another boat came past. As it approached I was busy stripping a chicken, the bow looked familiar. We both said at the same time, ‘Is it Jubilee?’ Sure enough stood at the stern were Jan and John (Halfie). Mick waved to them as they passed.
0 locks, 0 miles, 1 recky trip, 2 many youths, 1 interesting railway, 5 messages, 2 condolence cards, 4 photos, 10 litres oil, 1 air filter, 1 pattern designed, 1 new stitch practiced, 24th pair cast on, 1 very soggy moggy, 1 clean boat floor, 1 hour drying, 1 stove, 1 free bouffant, 1 t-towel and towel, 1 cloth, 1 pint milk removed, 1 cheese block donated to Frank, how were your beans on toast?
Domino’s Mooring to Brookwood Park, Basingstoke Canal
Last week Mick rang the Basingstoke Canal to buy a licence and book our passage up through the locks, this needs to be done in advance. Back in 2019 when we came onto the River Wey we tried to do the same, only to be told the canal was closing that Friday, for the rest of the year, they’d run out of water. So ever since we’ve had a plan to return earlier in the year in the hope that they would have sufficient water. However this time Mick was not able to book over the phone for another reason.
The booking system was in the middle of transitioning from phone to on line, maybe later in the day it would be up and running for us to book. We tried it and it wasn’t there. However the following day it was, Mick popped our details in for a licence. The canal is run by the Basingstoke Canal Authority but owned by Surrey County Council and Hampshire County Council. Later in the day we got an email back from Louise.
‘Thank you for completing the on-line visitor application form. You are also our first boater to use this brand new system 😊’ Oleanna has made history! There was a link to pay for our licence on line followed by, ‘We realise there is a glitch with the form which should ask you to let us know which dates you are going through all of the flights? So if you could email back the following information I can update our system.‘ By the end of Thursday last week we had paid for our licence and were booked to do the lock flights. This morning we just had to get there on time.
Breakfasted we pushed off to cruise back to the junction alongside the M25. We’d left a few minutes later than planned, but turned Oleanna’s bow onto the Basingstoke at 8:57, at least we’d be in view should the Lock Keeper be waiting for us! Well in fact we were early, the locks would be unlocked at 9:30 not 9:00 as Mick had thought.
Lock 1 was sat empty, a paddle raised on the bottom gate, we opened the gates and pulled Oleanna in to wait. This did mean that when Chris the very enthusiastic, incredibly welcoming Lock Keeper arrived Mick missed out on all the spiel. What a warm sunny morning to start on new waters.
Chris gave Kath and myself instructions about the locks and unlocked the top paddles so we could start up the Woodham Locks. Normally on the Basingstoke we would ascend a lock, close the top gates, lower the paddles at that end and then lift one of the bottom paddles, leaving the lock empty, Chris would then follow us up the flight to ash the top gates shut. This is done to help reduce the amount of water leaking through the gates, therefore holding back as much water as possible. However today there was a boat also coming down the flight, so until we passed them we were to leave the top gates open for them with all paddles down. Our normal C&RT windlasses would also work on the canal, no need for anything different. Instructions received and understood, we got going.
Having an experienced extra pair of hands was good, not that the locks today were hard. Most paddles lifted easily, most gates opened up easily too, plus being able to leave the top gates open was also a bonus. At 10am Mick joined the Geraghty zoom for us all to wave to everyone else, then we got on with the job for the day, locks.
Such a leafy green corridor, very pretty and with the sun shining it was glorious. Kath and I soon got into a rhythm. Then Chris returned, getting ready to ash up the locks as the boat coming down the locks left each of them. It may have been between locks 4 and 5 that we passed MSC Frodsham a replica Manchester Ship Canal Tug. They had to slow right down and wait whilst Mick brought Oleanna past a line of house boats.
From now on today we’d be closing up the lock gates and lifting a paddle at the bottom end for them to drain.
We were soon up Woodham Locks and pootling our way along the long pound. Our map suggested it would take getting on for two hours before reaching St John’s Locks which we also planned on ascending today. Time for a cuppa and some flapjack.
After passing Monument Bridge I popped down below to finish off preparing some sausage rolls, sliding them in the oven hoping to have timed them well to be ready for a lunch break.
Kath knows the area quite well so could point out certain landmarks to us. We had a nosy at gardens, one with a good sized slot perfect for a narrowboat mooring, another with a bar and bunting where two ladies were sat enjoying a Sunday tipple and gossip.
After Cobham Road Bridges we passed the Lightbox which is an art gallery and museum. Then a footbridge with a bowler and batter at either end. Unfortunately the view of the bowler from the canal was impeded by trees, so we’ll have to have a walk on our way back to see him.
The first stretch of moorings came next. Space for Kitty the trip boat and a cafe boat and then there were three visitor boats, two of which we’d been told to keep an eye out for by Heather Bleasdale. Christine appeared at the hatch of NB Katura, I think to apologise for one of the boats being double breasted. Instead she got a ‘Hello, you know Heather!’ We had chance for a short chat as we passed. NB Katura had managed to get to the very end of the canal under three very low bridges. I did a quick compare of cabin heights and I think we are maybe a little bit lower, so there is hope we’ll reach the end. We waved goodbye and carried on.
Now that booking is done on line there is no need to display a licence apparently. It felt a bit weird passing boats showing theirs. NB Bobcat’s second mate watched us closely as we passed, a ghostly face behind the pram hood.
The sausage rolls were out of the oven and cooling by the time we reached the first service mooring. As we were ahead of where we needed to be and with an hour before we should be starting on the next flight of locks we decided to stop for lunch to refuel. There was also the opportunity to dispose of fishy rubbish too, just so long as it was bagged up as the bins here are emptied by hand.
Five more locks in the St John’s flight, more leafy green and dapples of sunshine. Closing the top gates at Lock 8 proved difficult, my side didn’t want to go further than half way. But with Kath and myself both giving it a push and pull, then a running push whatever had been the problem was shifted and it closed.
Plenty of gongoozlers today. Several little children being shown by Dad how the locks work. One lady suggested that you only get locks when the water is uneven. Kath and I wondered how many children are shown the locks like this and how many then go on to live onboard boats like Mick did after being taken to the Hanwell flight as a young boy.
One down from the top lock the gates leaked quite a bit, the date carved on them 2024. Presumably the oak hasn’t had enough time to expand with the water or there’s just a lot of crud on the cill. It did feel a little odd to fill the lock and then empty it after we’d finished, the pound above gradually draining into the lock and then downhill. Should we send Chris a message to say we’d finished on the flight? He’d been very good with his instructions at the beginning of the day, so we were sure he’d have told us if we needed to. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long before he arrived to lock up anyway.
On now to find a mooring. The first one had space for us, but was alongside an Italian restaurant, quite a busy road with buses that would take Kath back home. Not very good for Tilly. Mick had spotted in the guide we’d been given that there was mooring at Brookwood Country Park where there was a water point. This altogether sounded much more like it and would be closer to Kath’s house.
The canal got shallower. Was our extra ballast not helping matters? Did having three people on the stern not help? Kath and I decamped to the bow, things seemed to improve a little, then not so. Oleanna ground to a halt, Mick turned the engine off, time to discover what goodies had caught themselves on the prop and hope that improved things. Plastic and some weed. The canal was still shallow, but gradually things improved and our speed grew without increasing the revs.
The water point at Brookwood came into view, a wooden pontoon, rings! Ah except the pontoon didn’t actually have a top to it. That’s why it wasn’t shown on Waterway Routes! There was unlikely to be anywhere else to moor in the pound so we pulled in as best we could. The far end at least had solid ground under it. The bow came in quite well, but the stern needed help, maybe an Andy was needed.
I passed my rope round the wooden edging near some bolts, Mick put some power on and pushed the tiller towards the bank, she came in, but only by a couple of feet. Maybe we’d be able to pull her closer in. I hopped off and caught a rope, a touch closer but not much, this had the effect of pulling the bow out too. How to tie up was going to be the next problem due to the lack of solidity close to the wooden edging.
Between Kath and myself , with use of the boat hook and some careful dangling we pulled the rope round the wood and passed back to tie onboard. We all agreed it was very unlikely that a boat would come past us tonight as we’d only passed one boat facing the same direction as us, plus the next flight of locks hadn’t been open today so no boats would come from the other direction.
Time for a cuppa and more flapjack before we said goodbye to Kath. It’s a shame she has to go to work tomorrow as she’d have really liked to join us up the next flight.
Tilly spent quite a bit of time outside, once she’d managed to get past all the woofers. What a holey outside they’d tied up! I had to be extra careful as I claimed the edging. Once that was done I got across the woofer highway and into friendly cover it improved greatly. I managed to use up all my hours shore leave before returning bang on time for dingding.
11 locks, 8 miles, 1 left, 25 minutes early, 1 karabiner to keep phone safe, 1 jolly welcome, 1 sunny tree filled lovely day, 12 sausage rolls, 3 left, 2 of Heathers friends, 1 batter, 1 bowler, 1 park mooring, 4ft mooring guidance, 3ft6 maybe 5ft, 6 flapjacks, 1 sister out law, 1 bumbag found behind the sofa! Tilly?!? 1 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.
Shepperton Village Visitor Moorings to Pyrford Marina
This morning we needed to leave the Thames, once we’d breakfasted we pushed off into the current still flowing quickly around the island. As we passed the top of the island we tried to count the number of woofers, we couldn’t as they were all too busy having fun running around with their walkers making a blur of wagging tails.
People were already enjoying a morning coffee at D’Oyly’s on D’Oyly Carte Island, the sun doing it’s best to show it’s face. We brought Oleanna round to the junction below Shepperton Lock, here so many channels weave around, weir cuts, islands, it’s quite confusing as to which wey to go. Having been here before we knew which wey the Wey was. Straight on, but left of straight on. There is a green sign to help you.
The stop lock gate was open, so we pulled in to moor below Thames Lock and walked up to find the Lock Keeper. We’d arrived at a busy time, the lock was just about to be filled for two boats coming down off the River Wey, there were two Lock Keepers, one in training. We were asked our draught, 2ft 6″, the Stop Lock would be needed to raise the level below Thames Lock to get us over the cill. The gate behind us was closed and we were instructed to mind our lines when they emptied Thames Lock, the two downhill boats would then come into the stop lock, keeping to their left and once we could get round and into the lock we could do-ci-do with them.
The stop lock rose by about a foot, giving us enough depth over the bottom cill of Thames Lock. Our ropes were taken up to the top of the lock, popped round bollards and returned to us, the stern line passed round a yellow post, the gates closed behind us and then we had to wait for the other two boats on the stop lock to be set free out onto the Thames. Then we were gradually raised up in the lock, the sluices giving a big arc of water into the lock, finally after several minutes the plume of water was submerged and quiet returned.
Time to sort out our licence. We explained to the Lock Keeper what we were wanting to do and it was decided we’d be wanting a return transit licence and then maybe a single transit licence when we returned. We paid a deposit for a windlass to fit their sluices, a very long handle, we’ll compare our collection to see if we have anything already suitable for the next time we visit.
Then we were on our wey, just as another boat was arriving wanting to descend. The lady who was in training has waited three weeks with no boats and now today was the busiest day this year!
I sent a message ahead to inform crew of another boat that we were now on our/the Wey (I’ll stop this soon I promise!). It was 2019 when we cruised the River Wey, run by the National Trust. Here you are asked to leave lock gates open when you leave a lock, but always close the sluices. You must use fore and aft lines and turn your engine off, when ascending a lock the stern line must be passed round the yellow post right at the back of the lock, this stops your boat from being dragged forwards as the lock fills. All these things we remembered, this time it didn’t feel wrong leaving gates open.
Weybridge Town Lock goes off the river at a right angle just after a bridge, you can’t see if the bottom gates are open, so I walked up to check, it was in our favour. With the bow line on the roof of the cratch and a boat hook to grab it we were sorted and made our way up the lock.
On to Coxes Lock below the big mill. The lock was against us so we made use of the lock landing being on the port side to empty the yellow water tank whilst we could. This did mean another boat came from above and reset the lock for us just as we’d finished our chores. This is the deepest unmanned lock on the River Wey and the bottom gates are really quite heavy, a bar on a chain means you can pull them closed without having to stand right on the edge of a large drop.
A message from ahead, filling with water and then they’d be on their wey towards us.
New Haw Lock with it’s awkward cranked metal beams requires some umph to close, the road most probably an addition after the navigation was built. But as the lock fills you have time to admire the pretty lock cottage.
A long straight passing under the M25 again, we were now without. The graffiti here was worth taking note of, well about half of it, some very fine work. Past the end of the Basingstoke Canal and straight on. Was this where we moored for our day out to Brooklands? Woods surround the canal, but the sound from the M25 lingers totally out of place with the view.
Up ahead the bow of a narrowboat came into view. Two people sat in the bow, was this them? Someone else stood up in the welldeck, it was! A wave between boats and then a slowing down. Ann-Marie and Dave onNB Legend were giving Mum and Dad a cruise down to New Haw. There was chance to say a quick hello and that they would come and find us later on.
Soon we arrived at Pyrford Marina, we turned in and pulled up onto the service mooring, the water tank started filling, rubbish disposed of and the button pressed to call the office. No answer came so Mick walked over returning with someone to fill our diesel tank, £1.05 at 10% split, the cheapest we’ve had this year. Mick had been given instructions as to where we were to moor, we could then head back to the office to pay.
Bow tied to a short stumpy pontoon and stern to a post, we had a late lunch before going to pay our bill. The marina isn’t cheap, but no marinas are in this part of the country, they did come and put £10 electric on the post for us. The washing machine went into overdrive. Washing was hung up to dry all over the place by the time Ann-Marie and Dave arrived for a cuppa and a catch up.
Ann-Marie is from this part of the country and a few years ago they got stuck on the Basingstoke Canal for months, a lock gate was broken and by the time a new one could be made the canal would not have enough water for them to be able to fill the locks, then there was winter maintenance on the horizon and a lot of lock gates were going to be removed. A window of opportunity arrived with enough water before the canal closed. As they made their way down the locks gates that would normally be firmly closed behind them and ashed up to save water leakage were actually being taken out by crane.
Mick last saw them in Goole October/November 2021, they kindly kept an eye on Oleanna for us whilst I was working on Panto and Mick returned to the house for a few days. I’d last seen them in 2019 as we were both heading for the Thames from the Kennet and Avon, they would be following us up stream. That however didn’t go according to plan. Mick and Oleanna managed to battle their way upstream with the Thames in flood, NB Legend didn’t have enough engine power and they ended up mooring on the high sided bank at Wallingford. Here they stayed with the river in flood, adding posts to keep them from going over the bank, then lockdown happened, they were moored there when the levels went down, stepping onto the roof from the bank, seven months in all. There have been other stories of incidents, go to their blog to read about the Trent, Eeek!!
Earlier this year they made the decision that they would move back onto land, the network just about cruised and grandchildren to watch grow. So this was most probably the last time our bows would cross as NB Legend will be going on the market later this year. So glad we ended up in the same place at the right time. They have projects planned, converting a van into a motorhome, there’s no keeping them still. All the best for your future adventures.
4 locks, 5.8 miles, 1 long windlass, 2 bows passing for the last time, 4 loads washing, 75 litres, 1 full water tank, 1 empty wee tank, 1 very bored cat!
Not the best nights sleep. Yesterdays heavy rain made for a twitchy night. Had we been wise to moor here on pins? How high would the river come up in response to the rain? Were our ropes loose enough for fluctuating levels? How would the flow be when we came to move? Should we move? Sooner rather than later?
We both checked the internet for the levels. Overnight the river had come up by 6 inches. Would we now be stuck by red boards? The EA website gets updated at 11am each day so we wouldn’t know from there for quite some time. Mick took a walk along the bank towards the lock, wet grass soaking his trousers and shoes. The lock was normal and on self service. Time to make a move and go whizzing off down stream.
Untying was planned, the bow rope last to stop us from drifting backwards and with Mick already onboard he’d be able to keep us steady into the flow. However the bow rope was quite slack, Oleanna had risen with the water and was now closer to the bank and this morning the wind was holding her into it. We followed our plan anyway, me trying to push the bow out against the wind, extra umph needed from a bow thruster to get the bow into the flow and Oleanna winding to head downstream.
A couple of boats had already been seen on the move and we followed a small cruiser in to the lock cut, they’d been moored on the weir stream overnight. I checked with their skipper if they’d be okay sharing with us which they were. They would head out first and I’d close up behind us. This of course wasn’t needed in the end as a boat was heading upstream and then a Lockie who was gardening appeared from nowhere and did the honours for us, the cruiser pulled in at the service mooring, we carried on.
Blue skies with fluffy clouds, that’s more like it! More boat houses I could live in. The fab big house on the bend near Shillingford still looks wonderful. Maybe one day we should walk the Thames Path which goes right outside the other side of the building so we can see the front door. If we lived there we’d give some ornamental tall grasses a trim to improve the view of the river.
Above Benson Lock there were plenty of moored hire boats, the recent yellow and red boards keeping them off the river, we’ve seen only a couple of Le Boats out and about. The cafe looked to be popular, maybe it would be a suitable place for a rendez vous, but our only choice of mooring nearby was on the weir side of the lock island, there’s a ferry that runs back and forth. However the moorings looked quite full and it would have meant winding to reverse into the weir cut, with the river running fast we didn’t fancy that.
Time to fill the lock, descend and then cross over the weir exit! Earlier this year a boat had lost it’s mooring and been swept towards the weir, only the bridge over it stopping the vessel from plunging over the top. Today the water crashed over the weir, where the navigation meets this there are green marker buoys to help keep you away from the build up of silt. We’d heard that these marker buoys had moved in the floods, so didn’t mark the channel well. They certainly looked to be further over towards the bank and the trees than we remembered, if you kept to the right side of them you’d almost certainly end up entangled in branches. After picking me up, Mick set off, cranking Oleanna up, the aim to pass through the green markers. It turned into a bit of a chicane but we made it through without touching the bottom or the trees, but very close to the buoys.
Not far now, we made note of possible moorings under the trees as we approached Wallingford, plenty of room should we need it. On the east bank there was a space, just not quite big enough for us, a few git gaps behind, we called out but no one heard us. The west bank was just about empty. We headed down stream through the bridge and then winded, no chance of running out of room to make the turn here. Upstream we headed, another call out to a narrowboat to see if they could move up, big thumbs up from inside and out they came to pull back six foot so we could moor. Thank you.
Earlier there had been a phone call, but not enough signal to hear anything. Mick had sent a message saying we were heading to Wallingford, he received a message saying a cuppa was being enjoyed at the cafe at Benson. Serious communication problems, Mick went off to try to find signal, Wallingford being added to our list of bad signal. Up on the bridge he got through to a French answerphone just as a car with two familiar faces came past slowing to say ‘Hello!’
Siobhan and Patrick are friends of Micks from long long ago, they now live in Newcastle, Australia. Most years they come over to the UK to visit family and we do our best to meet up. They arrived earlier this week, had a few nights in London before driving down to stay with a friend in Benson, our cruising plans had just nicely managed to fit with their tour of the UK. Big hugs all round then a venue for lunch was found. We all got in the car and headed off to The Red Lion in Brightwell-cum-Sotwell a very pretty place.
Ham egg and chips, a burger, fish and chip and a vegetable tart were all enjoyed, better food and a quieter lunch than we’d had on Monday. Lots to catch up on, news of grandchildren, 70th birthdays, travel plans.
After a cuppa and more chats back at Oleanna it was time for them to head off and meet up with their friend in Benson. So lovely to see them both and Yes we do need to try to put a plan together to do a visit to Newcastle!
As we’d returned to the boat there was a chap taking down the Town Council signs regarding mooring fees. New signs were going up, still the same fee but the moorings were now going to be overseen by District Enforcement. The chap chatted away, the moorings would be policed three times a week and anyone pulling up even just for the day (free) would need to register on line to moor there otherwise they’d be charged the penalty £100. Later in the day we wondered how we’d manage to register as our internet signal was seriously poor, at times there was nothing at all! This may be a problem.
We’ve only been able to moor in Wallingford by the bridge once before and we couldn’t remember if we’d looked round or not. Looking back on Lillian’s blog posts I suspect we didn’t as I had a migraine the day we arrived. So we headed out to have a bit of a walk around.
In the early 12th Century Wallingford had many rights and liberties exceeding those of London and it is one of only four towns that were mentioned in the Magna Carta. The very recognisable spire of St Peter’s can be seen by all from the river, it is now a redundant Anglican church. Grade 2 listed it was built between 1763 and 1767, the spire added by Sir Robert Taylor ten years later. A local lawyer, Sir William Blackstone ( who’s books were widely used by the makers of the American constitution) paid for the clock face to be visible from his house. The church was deemed redundant in 1971.
There are plenty of antique shops, one of which Siobhan had remembered from when she worked in the area. We had a good look round at all the things no-one really needs. The shop went on and on forever!
A couple of things were needed from Waitrose then we walked by the Town Hall, held up with extra wooden pillars bedecked with plastic ferns. The open area beneath was used for market stalls and the chamber above was used for Borough Courts and Quarter Sessions. Around the end of the 13th Century the town fell on hard times and shrank, only reviving in the 17th and 18th centuries with the vast growth of London and trade on the Thames. During Victorian times Wallingford had 50 pubs whilst only having a population of around 2000. Down a side street where half timbered buildings have been painted haphazardly in green and yellow and we wondered what the department store had been on St Mary’s Street.
Where St Mary’s meets St Martins a row of four terraced houses sits prominently over looking the junction. They are Grade 2 listed and are quite fine, their gable windows on the top floor hidden behind a wall.
Maybe next time we’re here we’ll explore more, there is what looks like an interesting walk around the town Link. So there is more to Wallingford than Midsummer Murders.
2 locks, 5.8 miles, 1 wind, 6 inches higher, 6ft too short, 1 broken cleat, 2 Australian visitors, 1 perfect rendez vous, 0 phone signal, 3 pints, 1 glass wine, 1 unimpressed Tilly, £12 a night, but not tonight, 1 more lovely day with friends, 2 equalised batteries (they sorted them selves a few days ago).