Category Archives: History

‘Rubbish’ 1st September

Leek Winding Hole to Stoke on Trent Boat Club

Chilling butter for pastry, Hiding the Merlot, Villains and Rhododendrons, Gen X or was it Z were the subjects covered in this morning’s zoom. Not the full compliment of Mick’s siblings present, one off digging up Scotland the other in Paris watching the Paralympics. Tilly arrived back just in time for us all to say goodbye until next week, we could now be on our way again.

The boat from the water point was just arriving, mooring up in front of us. The lady wasn’t impressed with the Caldon, I think her words were ‘It’s rubbish, I’ll be glad when we get off it!’ We have to say we quite like it up here, yes it’s shallow, overgrown in places, the first part from Stoke isn’t all that picturesque, but when the sun is out some stretches are wonderful. But each to their own.

Four fishermen sat along the towpath, yesterday we’d had the day boat at the winding hole, today it was fishermen. Then a boat came through the bridge hole towards us, one fisherman refusing to lift his rod until the very last minute. We were asked if we’d winded further along the arm by the chap at the helm. They must have missed the blue sign saying to wind here if you are over 45ft.

Back through the tunnel, the cows joined today by a fishing heron. We gradually made our way along the contour. We’ve been here twice before and remembered more views, these visits were when there was far less foliage on the trees, maybe that’s why we like it up here because we can remember the views.

The nice mooring we’d spotted yesterday was empty. We were curious to see if there would have been enough depth for us to pull in there. Mick slowed Oleanna and started to bring her in, we think we’d have made it if we’d been properly trying. But instead Oleanna headed off in a direction unintended and it took a while to get back on course.

NB Beatrice the trip boat was passed, then the day boat, another narrowboat, blimey it was busy today! A couple were rapidly trying to get some resin on some fibreglass to hold a wooden grab rail onto their roof, yesterday the chap had been sweltering in direct sun, today they were racing against the resin going off and it starting to rain.

**The staircase used to pass down the side of the cottage under the garden chairs**

Over the aqueduct, a right hand bend. Here at one time there used to be a staircase that took the canal down towards Froghall. Where it joined the canal below the current set of locks the channel is noticeable as you head towards Stoke. In fact there have been three lots of locks here in the past. These photos were taken yesterday.

**Where the channel used to come out on the left**

‘The Leek Arm was built in 1801 to bring water from the newly constructed Rudyard Reservoir to a newly lengthened summit level at Denford. This involved building a new embankment across the valley of the Endon Brook and a new staircase flight of locks at the edge of Hazelhurst Wood to replace three separate locks between there and Endon.’

’40 years later the staircase (having proved to be a bottleneck as John Rennie the Leek Arm engineer had warned) was abandoned and replaced by a flight of 3 new locks at Hollinhurst (the “New Hazelhurst Locks”). Part of the original 1778 line of the canal was re-used and a new aqueduct built through the Denford Embankment, thus creating one of the six places in the UK where one navigable waterway crosses another.’ Thank you IWA . The route of the old canal and locks is shown in grey.

As we got close to the junction, we could see there was a boat approaching on the other side of the next bridge. We held back, the boat ahead reversed, had they seen us? Or were they just manoeuvring themselves? In the end we approached slowly, they were right at the junction, maybe they were winding, maybe just turning. The two boats managed to get past each other just!

Pulling in at the services, we topped up on water, the washing machine had been on, disposed of rubbish and then carried on for a little while longer. The towpath had been trimmed where we’d tried to get in the other day, the grass now all yellow and flat hanging over the armco. We pulled in a little before the Stoke on Trent Boat Club arm, a late lunch, shore leave for Tilly and time to catch up on blog writing.

**Rope swings on the tree at the junction**

I had intended to walk over to have a look at the information boards by the old swing bridge, but Tilly was busy outside with a possibility that she would follow, plus it had started to rain. As we got ready to enjoy a roast chicken it rained heavier a rumble of thunder skitting across the sky.

0 locks, 1 aqueduct, 3 siblings, 1 stripy lawn in Surrey, 4.4 miles, 2 many boats, bridge 6 very shallow, 2 outsides, 1 test match, 3 different routes, 1 roast chicken.

https://maps.app.goo.gl/XPQYhMZrPaEkzH5h8

The Staffordshire Pretzel. 28th August

Bridge 30 to Top side Cheddleton Visitor Moorings

Cows slurluping at 5am across the way woke Tilly and myself, Mick totally oblivious as he was making his own noises! It took us a while to get back to sleep, but we managed it.

A load of washing was put on then we moved up to the services. Here we joined two more boats. The far one was the boat that had followed us up the staircase a couple of days ago. When had they gone past? They were facing towards Stoke too!? Have to say we’d been surprised not to have seen them yesterday. They are very early risers, 6am, so had passed whilst we were well asleep. They’d also been to the end of both arms of the Caldon! No stopping them. I asked where they moored on the Oxford, the bottom of Claydon before Cropredy, Yes I knew where they meant, we’ll wave next time we go past. They’ve certainly been going for it, our map suggests there and back with both arms is a 21 hour cruise from Etruria, I suspect they’ll be off the canal before the end of the day.

With water topped up, the alpine strawberry plants tidied up, their babies added to the hedgerow, we moved on towards Hazlehurst Junction. Here the canal splits into two. The right turn stays on the level and sweeps round over Hazlehurst Aqueduct and on to Leek. Straight on drops down three locks goes under the aqueduct and onwards towards Froghall where the canal used to meet up with the Uttoxeter Canal. We decided to go straight on, down the locks.

We’d brought with us a reed island, Mick hauled it out of the lock and deposited it over the lock bridge out of the way before lifting paddles. Just after the third lock there is Bridge 37, this had to be rebuilt a few years ago, closing the Froghall Arm for quite sometime. It does look new, some weathering required for it to sink into the landscape.

Landscape is what we’d have today, it’s nice to be back in the hills.

We wound our way down under the aqueduct, here we’d had two kingfishers sat on branches waiting for us to pass the last time we were here, no such luck today. The moorings at the pub were full, a large Hare sat behind a garden shed. Residential moorings ask for you to slow down, we’d no choice as Oleanna’s depth slowed us to just about a stop in one bridge hole.

Through plenty of wood, Rowan a common sight with it’s red berries. The moorings before the flint mill were just about empty. We pulled up as soon as we could a view to our portside to wake up to between the trees, that would do nicely. Tilly was warned not to eat her own body weight and let out for an hour whilst we had lunch.

Debby from NB Bonjour had mentioned about there being Pre-Raphaelite windows in St Edwards Church, we could just see the tower from our mooring, anywhere to the south of the canal would mean a steep hill to climb, but it couldn’t be that far! Surely!

With walking stick in hand we set off down past the flint mill both water wheels turning, crossed the canal and started to walk uphill. The first turn on the right gave us a steeper hill to climb, a very steady pace required.

St Edwards dates back to the 13th C, some walling possibly back to the 12th C. The church has had several restorations, one in Elizabethan times but the biggest was in 1863/4 when Sir Gilbert G Scott made major changes.

The chancel roof was repainted in the 1950s, symbols depicting local connections to the church. The book, for paper. The knot, the Staffordshire knot (not a pretzel!). The boat, for the canal. The plant, Madder from which dye is produced a favourite dark red used by William Morris. Morris spent three years in Leek learning about dyes.

At first glance around the church the one window that stands out from all the others is of three angels drawn by Burne Jones. The colours which were chosen by Morris sing out. It’s a lovely window.

Then closer inspection, the majority of the other windows are of a similar time. One depicts a couple facing each other. The chap is reported to be a portrait of William Morris stood opposite his wife. She is bare footed, he has red socks, but he also must have been a messy eater as he needed a very large napkin tucked into his collar!

What a lovely church, thank you Debby for mentioning it. My knee was going to have to walk down the hill, so as along as we found a fairly level path to the shops I’d not have to do too much more downhill. A footpath was found which connected the older part of Cheddleton to the newer busier Leek Road. A pint of milk and a loaf of bread, Bargain Booze managed to have both and tucked in the fridge were a pile of freshly made oatcakes. At £1.45 for 6 they make the ones you make yourself very expensive.

Back on board I made up the Oatcake mix we’d bought at Great Haywood, leaving it to rest for half an hour, so the yeast had time to do it’s stuff. I cooked up the last of our Oxford sausages and sliced them, some mushrooms were cooked and cheese grated. Four oat cakes were cooked, kept warm, then the filling was added to each in turn, cooked in the frying pan to melt the cheese. Two each, very yummy. The remainder of the batter was then cooked up, each cake left to cool before being popped in the freezer for another time.

Where we’re headed we may not have internet for a couple of days. Where we’re going has a low tunnel, we’re going to see if Oleanna can get through it! Tune in next time to see if we succeeded. If we never post again, it’s because we’re stuck in Froghall Tunnel!

3 locks, 2.8 miles, 1 straight on, 1 speedy cruising boat, 1 pretty wooden canoe, 1 late night boat, 1 church, 1 steep hill, there and back, 3 angels, 0 pretzels, 5 oatcakes, 6 for another time, 0 oxford sausages left, 2 bricks purchased, 1 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.

https://maps.app.goo.gl/bEZaQce8uu9w5Rrm8

How Much Of A Half Would You Like? 21st August

Before Iron bridge 72A to after Iron Bridge 72A

Mick walked up towards Haywood Lock to see if there were any spaces available for us to move up. The internet coverage where we were moored was poor, therefore annoying! He’d checked on a map and we seemed to be sat in a little hole, further along the signal should improve.

A space behind one boat and another in front, but this was under a leaning oak tree. With gusts of wind this mooring wouldn’t be so good. We needed to act quickly before the first mooring was snatched up, so as I finished my exercises Mick pushed us off. Have to say doing lunges whilst Oleanna was moving was very wobbly! However I was ready to help moor up, as close as we could to the boat in front which just so happened to be NB Winding Down, our old shareboat.

Breakfasted, we got ourselves ready for a day out, just as a breasted up pair of Jules Fuels boats was pulling out, we decided to move up and not be that annoying boat a touch too close to a bridge hole. As we moved I spied people onboard Winding Down, we had to at least say hello. Just as well we did as it was Paul and Aileen Jordon one of the last few original syndicate members. We last bumped into them in Braunston a couple of years ago before WD moved base to Aston Marina.

It was great to have a chat and reminisce, only one other original owner left, Roger. They had two of their grandchildren with them and more were expected shortly for a picnic before the youngsters were heading home.

Time for us to have a day out!

**The plaster of this ceiling was carved by the artist laying on his back and took 2 years. Hope he got paid well**

Back in June 2015 we spent several days at Shugborough, then ran by Staffordshire County Council and the National Trust. We’d had a tour of the house at break neck speed back then, little could be remembered so we decided to visit again, dust off the cobwebs on our National Trust cards. In 2016 the management of the Hall was handed back to the National Trust, so today we could get in for free.

There were plenty of people about, lots for kids to do in the park. At the front door of the house we showed our cards and were let in to walk around the house at our own pace. As with most NT properties the house has been laid out with the story of it’s occupants, here it is the Anson brothers who travelled the world. Also as with many NT properties we didn’t get to find out much about the actual house. Plenty of information boards about the brothers, a huge map with interesting facts about their voyages and how they started off with 1900 crew, arriving back in England with just 188! But I’m interested in the house too, I’ll have to look it up.

Once we’d looked round the ground floor, walked through the red drawing room and the library with disguised door and taken note of how quickly Elizabeth and Betty had grown we then could climb the back staircase to look round the rooms upstairs where Lord Patrick Lichfield had lived and taken many a photograph. This is the part of the house we remembered most, the kitchen, the deep deep baths, the photographs. Here you’re not allowed to take any yourself.

One room which had been Patricks bedroom had photographs he’d taken. Another couple walked round ahead of us. She said ‘That looks like him. That looks like Sophia Loren’ He said, ‘No it won’t be’. I wondered who he’d think were in the royal family photographs when they came to them, and yes that was actually Mick Jagger!

Time for lunch, we hunted out the cafe. Chock-a-block, but we’d timed our arrival very well as just about everyone was finishing. Jacket potatoes were finished for the day but we could have potato wedges instead with a filling on top of our choice, a little bit of a strange combination. Sat next to us was a family, the teenage daughter had just gone to get them pudding. Three scones and a huge slab of carrot cake with a good layer of cream cheese frosting. She said how she’d not been able to decide on a scone or the cake, Mum offered to go halves with her, half a scone for half the cake. ‘How much of that half would you like?’ came back the answer from the daughter!

Back in 2015 there were carriages to look at. The house kitchens were in working order with a cook baking scones and ginger biscuits. Sadly today these areas are closed, I think the collections have been moved elsewhere as they belonged the Staffordshire County Museum. Such a shame, but at least we’d seen them last time.

Time for some chilled medication, we joined the queue and selected our flavours, Devilishly Chocolate and Rolo, basically the same ice cream but one with mini rolos and a swirl of caramel added. As the medication level had been topped up we walked round to the formal gardens at the back of the house. Past the Chinese House built in 1747, crossing the red bridge and onto the island to look at the Cat Monument. Why does that cat have a moustache?

The monument (c.1750) possibly commemorates a cat which travelled around the world with Admiral Anson on the ‘Centurion’. Or that it was built as a memorial to Kouli-Khan, a Persian cat kept by Thomas Anson. He also kept a heard of Corsican Goats which feature around the base of the monument.

We then returned to Oleanna, enough walking for today and time to let Tilly out. She wasn’t that enamoured with it this afternoon, even if we had a chatty parrot for a neighbour. Well you’d told me I wasn’t allowed to talk to it!

0 locks, 0 miles, 2 bridges crossed, 1 Georgian Mansion walked round, 1 formal garden, 2 years, 1 ceiling back to front, 35 Weetabix, 1,313,843 pieces of 8, 2 brothers, 0 carriages, 0 puppets, 2 far to go to the farm, 1 odd cat, that’s not me!

https://maps.app.goo.gl/odPiG95YvgNVPTBr7

Fake Or True Signal. 18th August

Bridge 55 to after Bridge 67

**Slightly under cooked egg for the size of toast**

Mick did the honours this morning and we’d just finished when the Geraghty zoom started. Subjects covered this morning, Personal Weather Forecasters (we’d like Shefali please), new toasters, freezing portraits and people pretending to be going into a tunnel whilst on their mobile, who actually broke their arm and Will Bailey.

Quite a few boats passed us heading away from Fradley, then the majority of them returned heading back towards the locks, most probably out for the weekend. We managed to push off without too much hassle today. Jumpers were required as the temperature has dropped, last night we considered lighting the stove.

I turned a heel on my lastest pair of socks, ten minutes of quiet whilst I counted stitches back and forth. After I’d reached a certain point I had to stop myself from doing too many rows otherwise I’d run out of knitting to do in front of the TV tonight.

We passed The Little Chimney boat, without them our original flue would have been too tall to get under the Basingstoke Canal bridges, they are usually found somewhere around here. I’d not noticed their collection of things on the roof before.

Good to see the houses with their blue pots are keeping things going. In front of each house are slightly different blue pots and the further west you get the plants get less loved, the last house looks like they just nurture weeds now.

Then Armitage Shanks factory right along the canal. Big vats sit behind the dusty patched up windows, are these full of giant toilets or pristine white glaze? In the yard I could still see pallets of toilets waiting to go off to new houses to be plumbed in. They are really hard to get a photo of and the sign for Local Facilities is way over grown.

As we approached the Plum Pudding we checked our phones, both on with signal and the ringer turned up. Time to walk through the tunnel to check no-one was coming and more importantly to stop anyone from coming. The tunnel, which is about 120 metres in length, had its roof removed in 1971 because of subsidence damage being caused by nearby coal mining, a ten yard section having collapsed in 1965. What remains is a deep narrow cutting through sandstone, wide enough only for a single narrowboat to pass. NB Holderness has some interesting photos of the tunnel here.

I walked ahead, no boat coming towards us. I was out from under the road bridge and about two thirds of the way through, I called Mick. ‘No boats coming, you can come through’ ‘What? I can’t hear what you’re saying, you keep breaking up!’ How amusing that after this morning’s zoom where we’d talked about people faking going into tunnels whilst on their mobile, I was now in a roofless tunnel and my phone signal was breaking up. I ended up repeating myself very loudly and slowly, not sure if Mick heard via the phone or not, but he started to come towards me.

The water point before Ash Tree Boat Club was on the port side, handy for yellow water extraction. As we got close we could see there were two boats already there. A lady asked if we wanted to pull in, they’d be moving off in a couple of minutes, just about perfect timing. We did our chores and then moved on to find a mooring near to Tescos in Rugeley.

A big shop and provisions for a roast chicken as we’d been feeling chilly yesterday. Today however was that bit warmer. How come young whipper snappers get all those flavours of biscuits and me being that bit more mature, I only get one and that can’t even stand up on it’s own! I’d like lamb please Whiskas!!!

Mick was certain we’d managed to bring a trolley back to the boat before, but the wheel jammed on the long walkway back to the canal. I stayed with the trolley whilst Mick did the first load of bags to the boat.

Now to find a better mooring, one not too far out, but where we’d be happy to let Tilly out. All the 7 day moorings were full, quite a few boats coming the other way too. As we approached Bridge 67 just passing the last boat a bow came into view. Mick did his best to tuck in in front of the moored boat, the boat coming towards us hit the bridge and then us in turn. A lady in the bow stood up and went inside, possibly to avoid any confrontation from us, when there was none she gave us a filthy look! As the helm came past they apologised, there actually was nothing to apologise for. They were being followed quite closely, so had nowhere to go, we tried tucking in out of the way as there was nowhere else to go too, what happened happened.

A familiar boat from St Pancras Cruising Club, no John in sight to say hello to. Past all the houses and out to an open field alongside the towpath, this would do. We found a gap between trees and pulled up, sitting on the bottom. Tilly was given an hour and a half, she didn’t use it all, I’m keeping some on account for tomorrow.

The chicken was popped into the oven with potatoes, parsnips (not in their prime), carrots, garlic and some broccoli. It feels like an eternity since we last had a roast, it was very nice.

0 locks, 1 glitching nebolink, 5.8 miles, 1 topless tunnel, 33 pairs of socks completed, 1 sockathon back on track, 2 boxes wine, 1 big chicken, 1 bump, 90 minutes, 45 kept for tomorrow.

https://www.google.com/maps/embed?pb=!1m17!1m12!1m3!1d3336.661099494168!2d-1.9388658521470745!3d52.769429303891094!2m3!1f0!2f0!3f0!3m2!1i1024!2i768!4f13.1!3m2!1m1!2zNTLCsDQ2JzEwLjMiTiAxwrA1NicxMy41Ilc!5e1!3m2!1sen!2suk!4v1724062795872!5m2!1sen!2suk

Newdigate 12th August

Cat Junkie Mooring

Our mooring had been planned with today in mind. With the temperatures forecast to reach the 30s we wanted to stay put in the shade. No working through locks getting over heated, the only one who might be doing that would be Tilly. 8.5 hours of shore leave were awarded and off she went.

Exercises, pills, breakfast, blog writing all the usual things that happen on Oleanna in the morning. Cloud cover kept us cool for much of the morning, but when the sun came out it did get a touch hot.

The chairs came out onto the towpath in the shade. What we thought was going to be an unpleasant day turned into quite a pleasant relaxed one. The knitting came out and a heel was turned before lunch.

As we’d come through Bedworth the other day I’d sent our friend Frank photos. Frank grew up in the area and has told us tales of playing around the coal boats at Black Bank wharf. Today he gave me a bit more information.

‘A little bit of history of the wharf it was common to find as many as 12 pairs of narrow boats awaiting loading at the wharf on a Sunday only two boats could be loading at a time, the loading was done by hand by a small gang of about 4 men, in 1937 they were paid penny 3 farthings per ton per man’. ‘Black bank was connected to the Newdigate Colliery which was 2 miles west of the Coventry Canal’

This got me looking at the side by side maps of the area at The National Library of Scotland. Several collieries were shown, but could I find Newdigate? A social club still exists, but nothing obvious. Then I spotted it Coll, a railway leading to it from Black Bank.

**The line of trees across the centre was the Mineral Railway, canal on the right, colliery top left**

A six inch map gave me a lot more detail. On the modern map you can see exactly where the Mineral Railway was by the obvious line of trees. Frank also pointed out that his family lived just south of where the railway crossed a road. Below is a link to the side by side map

https://maps.nls.uk/geo/explore/side-by-side/#zoom=15.6&lat=52.47974&lon=-1.50687&layers=6&right=ESRIWorld

**Newdigate Colliery after it had closed**

Newidgate Colliery was formed by Sir Francis Alexander Newdigate in 1898, two shafts were sunk known as Frank and Lilah. By 1914 underground fires had meant the mine was in serious trouble and was sold off to Newdigate Colliery Ltd. The old pit bottoms were sealed off and new ones constructed 115ft above, productivity remained low until in the 1920’s when it was decided to only mine the top section of the Warwickshire Thick coal seam, it then became profitable. In 1966 Newdigate became the first colliery to produce 7,000 tons of coal from a single coal face. In 1982 the colliery had exhausted it’s workable coal reserves so ceased production. More info can be found here.

Thank you Frank, I like looking at old maps and don’t do it often enough, but having a reason today kept me busy for a good hour.

**The cows came for a paddle and drink**

Tilly stayed by our chairs, tree climbing a little bit too much with her fur coat today. A boat that had moored up in the afternoon was a Carefree Cruising boat, they had two dogs on board, both on leads. We chatted as the lady walked to the marina, she’d be keeping her dogs tethered as one of them would have liked Tilly as a snack.

When it was ding ding time Tilly quite happily retreated into the shade of Oleanna, after a mouth or two of food she became our temperature gauge. It was long cat hot!

A barbeque this evening of marinaded turkey steaks with veg and haloumi kebabs. I’d requested fewer coals today as we’d had enough to cook three times as much food at Long Buckby. But today with lack of window kindling the coals weren’t quite enough. The great kebab rest had to be abandoned and the kebabs laid on the grill, the old fashioned way to get nearer to the heat. At one point I even lifted the grill and all the food off for the coals to be given a tousle to increase the heat. This worked but sadly the turkey steaks being quite thin had dried out with the slow cooking. They were tasty but a touch dry.

The only downside of this mooring is the chap on his electric bike. Yesterday he passed us several times in turbo mode, sorry did I say passed, rocketed would have been a better description! Dressed in black with a scarf over his face, was this to stop him swallowing flies or more likely worn as a disguise. This evening he went past at a considerate speed, with people on the towpath I think he had little choice. I’m relieved Tilly wasn’t out when he’s passed in rocket mode! At the other end of the cycling spectrum there is one cyclist who has been past twice now, who stops and gets off his bike to walk it past us. Very considerate.

0 locks, 0 miles, 1 Carefree Cruising boat, 0.75 of a sock, 3 paws, 1 slow day, 6 inches to the mile, 1 history lesson, 1 Frank shaft, 1 long cat, 1 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval, can somewhere get three? 0 flying ants, 2.5 turkey steaks, 4 veg kebabs, 2 slices blackberry and lemon drizzle cake.

Getting Younger By The Hour. 12th July

Berko Visitor Moorings to Cow Roast Marina

Yesterday I thought I’d managed to fend off a migraine, this morning I knew I’d failed. Sadly we needed to keep moving. Dark glasses and a slow pace, aided by hobbling anyway, would be the way forward and upwards today.

**Old lock gates nearly as old as I felt**

At the two Gas Locks I was very pleased to see a volunteer, who set the second lock for us and closed up too, saving crossing gates. Blimey I felt rotten. Should I opt to be at the helm instead? Less walking, but guiding Oleanna into locks was not something my brain wanted to deal with. Thankfully by the time we reached our third and forth lock the Co-codamol had kicked in and I started to feel a little bit less than 97 years old.

A single hander jumped onto his roof. Two boats approached Northchurch Lock from above, advance crew about to lift the wrong paddles. Mick corrected them, then I corrected them again. I apologise if I was a touch short, by now I’d reached 87 years old and was turning a touch crabby. Two more boats followed these guys.

At Dunswell Bottom Lock we could see someone filling the chamber, shame I’d have appreciated an extra pair of hands. I managed to chat to the chap with his dog, they were on a mission to do 24 lock miles a day to reach Limehouse in time, not sure what for though. He made comments to the lady at the helm via walkie talkie, I could only hear her side of the conversation ‘That’s because I wanted to do it that way!‘. The dog dictated that they wouldn’t go down the steps to get on the boat, but would walk over the bridge to get back on, leaving his gate open for me to close along with mine which I’d opened so Mick could come in on my side. Maybe aged 82 now I couldn’t be bothered with the chap. He apparently ordered the lady to pick him up from in front of Oleanna, she’d been hovering waiting for Mick to move into the lock. She was then told off for coming in too quickly, the dog fell in and was hoiked out on it’s lead.

**I just love the mixture of brick, render and timber**

Now 80 I could appreciate the cottages on the other side of the road, the sky was blue and they made a pretty picture, I’ve always liked them. I hopped on board to get to the next lock, here I noticed for the first time the hills and fields around us. Of course they’ve always been there, just grey days and aiming for the summit clouding them from view. Today at the good age of 77 I had time to admire them.

A Heron preened itself sat in a tree, hunched over as if it was miserly counting it’s pennies, keeping them out of view from thieving prying eyes.

Boats lined the final pound up to Cow Roast. Where did the name come from? Well according to wikipedia the village lies on an ancient drovers route through the Chilterns and here was where cattle could be rested in pens on their way to market, Cow Rest which over time became Cow Roast.

As always at this time of year a group of Duke of Edinburgh award walkers came past, rucksacks on their backs. As we rose up the lock they came past us again, they’d gone wrong somewhere and were having to retrace their steps. Quite a distance to the next road or two, if their route was meant to stay alongside a canal, they’d have all the way back to Bulbourne to walk for the Wendover Arm! Good job they were teenagers.

At 75 we turned the steep turn into Cow Roast Marina, steeper than we remembered it being. Camera zoomed in to check the numbers on the end of the berths, there was ours just to the left. Blimey they are narrow! All three of us held our breath as Mick did his best to straighten Oleanna up so she wasn’t jammed against the next boat and the pontoon at the same time. Finally we could go straight in, just enough room for fenders on both sides of us.

At 73 I accompanied Mick to the office, hobbling along, maybe a colourful walking stick might be a good accessory! We’d just caught the chap before he disappeared into the attic. A key fob and instructions on how to top up the post with electric were handed over then we were left to ourselves.

Lunch then the finishing touches to my painting. I also wanted to scan it and our printer/scanner wasn’t playing ball. My 72 year old brain just couldn’t cope so handed it over to the IT department, after a while a new program had been downloaded and a decent scan of my painting scanned. I’ll show it to you in a couple of days, someone else needs to see it first.

A quiet evening of being in my late 60s. Pair 28 were cast off. Now I just need to make up my mind on what yarn to use for the next pair, purple, orange and turquoise, or scrappy socks of many many colours? I decided to leave that decision for when I’m back in my late 50s.

7 locks, 2.7 miles, 6 downhill boats, 1 soggy Pekinese, 30 years in a day, 1 heron, 1 disappointed cat, 1 fob, 1 tight squeeze, 1 more lodger booked, 1 risky plan paid off, 1 painting scanned and packed, 2 boaters hemmed in.

TV had to be watched via the Roku this evening as there was no signal to be had. I now have a question for ourselves. Is it worth continuing to post thumbs at moorings anymore? Or are they now redundant?

https://maps.app.goo.gl/htQhy9wFkDPVA2qs6

Dead Good Mates. 19th June

Mytchett Visitor Centre

A couple of people had told us how we must visit Brookwood Cemetery whilst we were in the area, with a couple of days to wait for our lock passage we decided to head there today. A walk over the canal to catch the no3 bus to Ash Vale Station and then the train to Brookwood. The train journey was much longer than I thought it would be, but then the bus had taken us further away before we’d started.

The station has an entrance into the cemetery, but just where was it. Station staff asked if they could help and we were told to go down the stairs to the barriers and ask a member of staff there, they would let us out. We did this and the chap pointed towards a gate through a subway, when we got there he’d buzz us through.

Brookwood Cemetery was conceived by the London Necropolis Company in 1849 to house London’s deceased when the capital was finding it hard to accommodate both living and the dead. In 1854 it was said to be the largest cemetery in the world, it is now the largest in Western Europe. It was consecrated on 7th November 1854 and opened to the public six days later when the first burials took place.

Next to Waterloo Station in London a dedicated station was built giving access to the cemetery. Trains with passenger carriages reserved for the different classes and Hearse carriages arrived at the cemetery on it’s dedicated branch line. The original London Necropolis Station was relocated in 1902, but this was demolished after being bombed in WW2.

There were two stations in the cemetery, one serving the none-conformist side (North) and the other the Anglican side (south). Apparently the southern platform still exists in the ownership of the St Edward Brotherhood. Wakes would be catered for at the stations.

**I really hope his tomb contains him and not Hops and Malt**

The first grave we came across was immediately of interest. Gates and a wall surrounded the memorial of Ramadan Guney (1932-2006). Originally from Cyprus, he emigrated to Britain in 1958 where he set up a music business. In 1983 he purchased the burial rights for over 19 acres of Brookwood Cemetery, he subsequently acquired Brookwood Cemetery in 1985 from it’s owner Mr DJT Dally. His aim was to restore the cemetery back to it’s original park like setting. More can be read about him here. An interesting sack covers part of his memorial.

We walked around the north west boundary, colourful and interesting graves none very old. Many sat skew wiff in their allocated plots, presumably facing Mecca.

Through a gate in a high fence, cordoning off the military graves, fencing keeping the dead in. Here Commonwealth graves all chalky white line up, immaculate grass between them. Next the graves of the Americans, crosses standing still, bright green grass, stars and stripes fluttering from a high flag pole, eagle above the door to the chapel where those who’s bodies were never found are remembered. All had died either in the UK or the surrounding waters. 69% of American bodies were repatriated at the request of their families.

More lines of graves, 1st and 2nd World Wars. Some dates from after the wars, presumably died from injuries. The wonderful cottage garden plants around the graves wonderfully kept. We walked up to take a look at the lines of Chelsea Pensioners, the majority passing away in the 1960’s.

Lunchtime, but where could we get some food? None of the residents would require refreshments. We should have thought about this! We walked down The Gardens, a line of semi detached houses built in 1897. Were these built for gardeners in the cemetery? If there hadn’t been several vans parked outside and workmen in modern clothing I’d have thought we’d been whizzed back in time.

Behind The Cricketers we found the Yurt Café where we enjoyed a slice of Lemon Drizzle cake and a lovely cuppa, far cheaper than a posh pub lunch! Now it was time to find our way back into the cemetery, after all we’d not even started to look round! No pavement along the road that splits the cemetery into it’s two halves, I was relived to arrive at the entrance.

Now with a vague plan on who we wanted to see and a route to maybe follow we walked on down Avenues. A real mixture of graves.

Why was Private CE Wilburn (from Gosport) in a corner with no-one near, his commonwealth grave stone much akin to those we’d seen this morning.

Large boughs of trees surrounded the grave of the Peyers family, Adrian Christopher had been a tenor opera singer, appearing in several productions with Opera Scotland and at the Royal Opera House.

Penny Privett who’d died in 2022 sat amongst some Victorian graves, the lay out far more haphazard than in the northern cemetery. Huge large trees give the dead shade on a sunny day, a deer appreciated it too.

Mausoleums were dotted around. The family Wood perfectly positioned for a film shot. The metal door partially open behind a gate, a slab of stone missing from the roof, no coffins to be seen inside, all so atmospheric.

Nearby John Singer Sargent (1856 -1925) rests, best remembered for his Victorian and Edwardian society portraits. His grave is Grade II listed even if it is far less elaborate than many others in the inner ring, the most expensive place to be laid to rest in the cemetery.

Heading towards St Edwards where monks will show you round, sadly the church doors were locked and we didn’t have enough time for a tour so we didn’t knock on their door.

Some of the graves are now surrounded by trees, framing them so wonderfully. Were they planted with this in mind in decades to come? One family upstages itself, a simple knot on one gravestone, 6ft in front a huge angle spreads their wings.

This is the side I’d rather be laid to rest. The thought of having so many dead mates around you for company, the long grass and shade from the tall tall trees. Such a mixture of ages and eras. You could come to visit everyday of the year and see something different.

We crossed over the busy road again to the north cemetery. Different nationalities remembering their loved ones in different ways. One lady had so many fake and real flowers around her grave it was hard to see who she was. A sultan in his own plot had become overgrown with thistles, we’d not seen thistles anywhere else!

We headed back to the gate into the station. Pressed the bell to be let back in.

I do like an atmospheric graveyard, but what a place! We’d only really scratched the surface.

We came away wondering who was the first to be buried there. On 13th November 1854 the following burials were recorded. Mrs Hore’s two still born male twins from 74 Ewer Street, Borough. Elizabeth Costello aged 3 months from St Saviours Workhouse. Henry Smith aged 31 from St Saviours Workhouse. Charlotte Edwards aged 74 from Chelsea. An interesting article can be found here. I wonder how many people lie there now.

Thank you Heather and Mick for suggesting we visited and John for telling us about the railway.

0 locks, 0 miles, 2 buses, 2 trains, 1 gate, 5 miles walked, 1 dodgy knee, 56745645634789 graves maybe! 2 slices of cake, 2 pots of tea, 1 hour of accompanied shore leave, that’s a touch better!

Odd I Ham. 15th June

Odiham Castle to Barley Mow Bridge Moorings

We think that last night we decided not to rush back to Frimley Lodge Park. Our passage down the locks wasn’t for Monday anyway and even if they can mend whatever the problem is with the lock gate they will still need to send water down to fill an intermediate pound, so the earliest we’d be able to go down Deepcut would be Tuesday, when they don’t normally do passages on the flight.

The Ginger cat was spotted before we let Tilly out this morning. NB Olive had said they’d be moving off about 9:30, a pump out on their agenda and then on to the Double Bridge mooring for feline shore leave. As soon as they’d pushed off Tilly was given half an hour to explore whilst we had breakfast.

Rain came and went, waterproofs a sensible precaution for our walk to the shops in Odiham. Over the lift bridge and through North Warnborough. Some big houses around here. Cholsley Barn, a conversion with a rather large entrance hall/dining room, a huge chandelier suspended from the ceiling made from antlers.

Across the way new railings were replacing a wooden fence. The main supports obviously new with a smooth finish, the railing panels themselves obviously new due to the pitted aged effect.

Up the hill and towards Odiham. We could have moved the boat to Galleon Wharf and walked from there, this would have been a touch shorter, but not that much. An interesting Creperie, buckwheat pancakes, yum, shame we’d already had breakfast! A newsagents, but not one copy of our Saturday newspaper, not even a space for it!

By now we were glad we’d put waterproofs on, we walked down the hill and found an arcade to shelter in, we browsed the shops, nothing we needed then waited for the rain to stop being sideways. Down the hill to the Co-op, our newspaper in stock here. We picked up a few bits and bobs, milk, bananas, then found a bin with a lot of items reduced to 20p. Yes they were just out of date, but still perfectly edible. We boosted our purchases.

A different route back would have been good, but much further to walk with bags, so we retraced our steps. Plenty of blue plaques on buildings. The George, now Bel and the Dragon, why Bel? Odiham appeared in the Domesday Book. In 1622 there was a Pest House where those with plague or smallpox could stay in isolation. Mr William Lily was born here, he wrote grammar which after an act of parliament was taught in schools from Henry XIII time. In 1783 a group of men met in the George Inn to inaugurate the Odiham Agricultural Society, they resolved to reform farriery and animal care, establishing a veterinary school, the outcome of which resulted in the foundation of the Royal Veterinary Society.

Back at Oleanna, Tilly was given more shore leave whilst we had lunch, then it was time for us to start heading back north, well in the general term northbound, but heading east.

Nobody was stopped in their tracks at the lift bridge, one man crossing as I arrived, he did then stand directly under where I needed to close one of the barriers for a chat! Then onwards through the narrow bits, the clear water ahead showing how shallow the edges were. Thankfully when we came across the big trip boat there was just about enough depth for both boats to pass without going aground. At Lodge Bridge there is a sign to a Farm Shop, the website looks very interesting. If we end up being stuck on the canal for a while I’m requesting a visit.

Canoes were being packed away and there were plenty of people around Galleon Wharf, a popular area on a weekend. More rain showers came and went giving way to bright sunshine. Two more trip boats, Louise with a party of four who were making their way through a couple of bottles of bubbly.

I kept my eyes peeled for Woodpeckers, but none showed, just a Cormorant diving and flying.

The Chocolate box house looked better today as we passed, thatch, bronze horse and flowerpot person with plenty of ducks on the lawn for good measure.

Ideally we’d have liked to carry on to Double Bridge for Tilly to go out, but NB Olive would be there. Instead we stopped at Barley Mow Bridge, pulling onto the moorings. It felt a reasonable distance away from the road over the bridge, until I heard a car drive by just on the other side of the hedge by our mooring. Sorry Tilly! ………………………… She wasn’t pleased.

0 locks, 4.3 miles, 3 trip boats, 4 canoes, 1 newspaper, 1 sunny down pour day, 1.5 hours shore leave, 3 litter pickers, 1 couped up cat.

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We’ll Let You Know On Monday. 14th June

Double Bridge Visitor Moorings to The End to King John’s Castle Moorings

Rain! What’s new! As we had breakfast and Tilly explored for a while NB Olive came past, brolly up sheltering them from the rain. We put on our waterproofs, hoped for a lull in the rain, which came and made ready to push off perfectly timed with the next downpour!

Today we’d see more sky, fewer trees blocking it from view. When the sun is shining through the canopy the canal is magical, natures own break up gobo. But when it’s rainy and dark the trees feel a bit claustrophobic and the potential for rain to drip heavily on your roof guaranteed to keep you awake at night.

As we pootled along the Hampshire pound Mick got a phone call. ‘Yes that’s me’ ‘Oh Blimey!’ ‘If we were to turn round now would that….’ What was the conversation about?

It was someone from the Basingstoke Canal Authority, there was a problem at Lock 27. On Monday they would lower or drain a pound to investigate what the problem is. It may be a reasonably quick fix, or it could be something more substantial, a new lock gate could take 6 weeks to make and fit! Oh Blimey!!! When Mick had suggested turning round now and heading that way it was in the hope that maybe we’d get assisted passage past the lock before the investigation, but that was sort of ignored. ‘We’ll let you know on Monday.’

We passed a paddleboarder, a group of canoes. We discussed our options. What options did we actually have, but to wait until Monday. If we were to be stuck, we’ll get to know the area well, explore further afield. Things we’d planned on doing elsewhere we could access by train, just a shame not to get there by boat. Maybe we’re about to relive NB Legend’s visit to the canal, hopefully not or as long though! Although that would be handy for an appointment in this part of the world in October! Maybe we should head back to Frimley Green and see if there’s an opportunity to go through the troubled lock at short notice, our booking not for a few more days? What will be will be, it’s just where to be when we find out.

A Kingfisher stood still on a branch as we passed, today I had my camera just about ready. Then a pair flitted about ahead of us.

The song of Woodpeckers, one flew across to a tree by Barley Mow Bridge. My camera tucked away from the rain. A fledgling was being fed by a parent, what an opportunity to have missed!

Some pretty houses with well tended gardens. A group of ducks loitering outside someone’s back door for some tasty morsels. Instructions to proceed at Tick Over, some banks saved from erosion. Plenty of big trees that at some stage have fallen to block the navigation.

Approaching Colt Hill Bridge we saw the Authoritys trip boats, a hire boat base, NB Bramble having passed us in the last couple of days. A chap stood on the stern of the trip boat John Pinkerton said ‘You’re not from these parts are you!’ Then a short distance further on a smaller trip boat with jolly waving folk inside. ‘You’re the second boat we’ve seen today!’ That would have been NB Olive.

North Warnborough Lift Bridge, a possible mooring for the day. A boat was moored at the end of the bridge landing, was that the mooring on our maps, or could we get away with mooring on the posts? NB Olive was guaranteed to be on the last mooring before the end of the canal ahead, maybe we’d return. I hopped off, read the instructions on the bridge. The barriers, drop down and were manual. Pulling out the pin and lowering them, then with the key of power turned I could press the lift button, holding up four walkers in the process. A cable was wound in, lifting the bridge.

Sure enough there was NB Olive, a ginger cat spotted on the towpath. The side hatch open and Josh appeared another cat in his arms. Had we heard about the lock? He’d been thinking about our friends on NB Legend and how bad luck also follows them around.

Not much further was the end of the navigation, no big sign, just a few buoys strung along after the winding hole. We winded and then pulled in behind NB Olive, a second cat spotted on the towpath, Sorry Tilly! They most probably wouldn’t mind sharing with you, but the feeling would not be mutual. We’ve reached this years destination! From now on we’ll be northbound, that’s if we can get down the locks!

In the afternoon we walked along the towpath to have a look at Greywell Tunnel. It was built between 1788 and 1792 and is/was 1230 yards long. With no towpath boats had to be legged through the tunnel, an information board suggests it would have taken up to 6 hours! The tunnel collapsed in 1932, there were no attempts to revive it as commercial trade on to Basingstoke had already ceased. Canoeists could still get through until the 1950’s when the blockage became total, possibly a quarter of the length of the tunnel blocked.

Chalk springs in the tunnel provide much of the water for the canal, shafts were drilled into the tunnel sides of chalk to encourage water to percolate into the canal. The tunnel is now home to many bats, during the winter months it is home to the second largest hibernating population of Natterer’s bat in Europe. We didn’t see any.

We now followed the paths over the top to see if we could find the western portal. We crossed a field of cows, who were very interested in us before heading down a path through woodland which eventually brought us to the disused entrance. A bit of a scramble down to the caged off entrance, the brick archway just visible, all very dark inside.

**A wonderful tree with signpost beneath it**

We’d considered walking further along the disused canal, but the towpath looked in bad shape so we headed back to the cow field where we followed a sign to a bridleway which would return us to the canal further along. This did mean wading our way through a field of broad beans, those in pods not big enough to be eaten.

**The castle now and how it would have been**

A walk up to the castle, King John’s Castle. The ruins are all flint today, but at one time they would have been dressed in stone. King John had a castle built here between 1207-14, it was built as a stronghold but mainly used as a shooting lodge, there is still a deer park around Odiham. In 1215 the English Barons persuaded King Philip of France to pressure John into creating fairer land and taxation laws. Under duress King John rode from Odiham Castle to Runnymede to sign the Magna Carta, however little changed and Louis (son of King Philip) and the French army invaded England.

After the French siege King Henry III had the castle repaired. In 1236 he gave the castle to his sister Eleanor of Pembrokeshire, she married a French noble Simon de Montfort, he was invested as the 6th Earl of Leicester and they transformed the castle into their home. Simon died in the battle of Evesham and Eleanor was exiled to France.

Seven years later Edward I came to the throne and made improvements to the castle. There was some toing and froing, the castle passed down to son then son, Edward III granting the castle to his queen Philippa of Hainault.

Chats with Josh and his Mum regarding everyone’s plans for the next few days. They were in need of a pumpout so would head to Galleon Wharf in the morning, Tilly would then be able to have some shore leave. We were still in two minds whether to head back to Frimley Lodge Park so as to be close to the lock flight should there be an opportunity to go through if a longer closure was needed. Should we curtail our time at this end of the canal, or carry on as planned?

**Having a sit down on a handy tree bench**

During the afternoon we checked on tide times on the Tidal Thames for our planned date. Thames Lock at Brentford would need booking in advance. The day we wanted was not available, we opted for the day before, checked the times and then rang Teddington Lock to see what time they suggested penning down. Brentford was booked for late afternoon, but Teddington was suggesting we leave late morning, the passage only takes around an hour. We’re fairly sure the Teddington Lock Keeper was out by a few hours.

Now we just have to wait to see what happens on Monday.

0 locks, 5.8 miles, 1 wind, 6 cats at the castle, 2 tunnel portals, 1 squeeze through broad beans, 1 miffed Tilly that we hadn’t got there first, 1 problematic lock, 1 finale of The Responder.

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A Breakdown In Communications. 29th May

Above Days Lock to Wallingford

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).

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Narrowboat Oleanna

Travels of Narrowboat Oleanna