Two Boats And Two Aqueducts. 11th June
Bearly West Winding Hole to Wootton Wawen
A good morning, several more trees climbed whilst they had their morning dingding. There was no sign of the ginger woofer until I went in for a drink, what a funny noise they make. I couldn’t see it from the table no matter how upright I sat, so only one thing for it a bit of a cat nap.
On Tilly’s return we pushed off only wanting to reach Wootton Wawen today so not that far. Around a couple of bends and the long straight to Edstone Aqueduct and Bearley Lock came into view. As you approach the aqueduct it doesn’t look very long, but as you get onto it it seems to stretch out ahead. At 28ft high and 475ft long it isn’t a patch on Chirk or The Pontywhatsit, yet it is still an aqueduct. I will never like them.
We soared over the road with traffic passing under us and then over the railway line, Mick hoped for a train but none obliged. The towpath on the aqueducts on the Stratford sit alongside the trough of water, the walkway being lower than normal.
In the distance we could see a boat coming down the lock, plain sailing all the way and up our only lock for the day.
At Hill Farm Marina, all pristine and new, there were quite a few boats moored. On the far side we spotted the Finesse Crick show boat NB Caress of Steel and then on the near side NB Chuffed both all tucked up awaiting their next journey out. We carried on passing two geese and a white duck family happily swimming along.
At Wooton Wawen we were off new water. Our last ever hire boat came from here, we’d sold our share in NB Winding Down and were waiting to be boat owners and desperately needed a fix after I’d opened two Christmas shows in Hull. I had rung the Anglo Welsh Office and managed to get us an extra night for free on a boat with a stove, we also didn’t have to pay for the diesel or a bag of coal that someone had to go and buy for us. It was the only boat going out between December and March.
A second Aqueduct brings you over the A3400 and to the Wootton Wawen hire base. When we dropped off the hire boat they had us leave it on the aqueduct, blocking the navigation, but then we’d hardly seen any boats moving, the canal southwards had winter stoppages. Today we were relieved that the way ahead was free and indeed there was enough space to breast up against one of the boats for us to fill with diesel. 80.8p a litre and we hadn’t filled up since Hanbury about three weeks ago, needs must. Once full we pulled over onto the 24hr moorings and positioned ourselves part in the shade but leaving the solar panel in the bright sunshine, the day had turned quite hot.
We were soon joined by another couple of boats, one being NB Escapology whom we’ve seen several times of late. Everyone sheltered inside their boats whilst Tilly made the most of a second outside. Actually it was the second and a bit outside. They had done that thing of letting me out and then moving the outside with me in it. However I did witness them doing it so didn’t jump onto the next boat to come along! No ginger woofers here just Crows who wanted to tell the world where I was, no good for finding friends.
Tilly manages to remember to come home to go to the toilet, but rarely does she remember to have a drink on hot days. So as the afternoon cooled off and she came home for a pee (I know, what’s wrong with outside?!) we locked her indoors so we could have an explore and she could have a drink. We walked down past the Farm Shop, we’ll have a look tomorrow, and carried on towards the village. The busy A3400 zooms over an ornate bridge that crosses the River Alne in front of Wooton Hall, a smart house surrounded by static caravans. The gates are rather fancy along with the gate house.
Just past these is the entrance to St Peters Church, or the Saxon Sanctuary. This is a strange looking church from the outside, even stranger on the inside! It feels as if four churches of differing dates have been grafted together. The base of the tower dates back to the 900s, Saxon, and is one of the oldest structures in the Midlands. The top of the tower 15th Century as is the choir screen.
As you walk in you quickly notice that there seem to be a lot of alters. The nave and the raised choir face a Saxon arch at the base of the tower, behind here is the first alter. Followed by another arch which leads you through to seats and a second alter, behind which is a large window that seems to prefer being on a slight diagonal to everything else. Then off to the side is the Lady Chapel with it’s barn roof. Here there is an exhibit giving the history of the the church and village right up to August 1997 when lightening struck the church at midday the day that Princess Diana died.
We called into the village store for some milk where I was astounded at it’s Tradis like feel, it goes on and on and there is so much stock it might be worth checking the sell by dates on things before you buy anything. Having said that there was a constant stream of punters and they are guaranteed to have your favourite curry paste.
1 lock, 2.36 miles ish, 2 aqueducts, 2.3 outsides, 7 hours, 1 ginger woofer, 1 shouty crow, 118 litres, 1 boat going out, 1 hot day, 2 familiar boats, 1 new marina, 1 very old church, 3 more stuck on it, 2 pints milk, 1 window ever so attractive to flies.
https://goo.gl/maps/LCSTKFDdGGm
When The Bottom Is Almost At The Top! 10th June
The Red Lion, Stratford to Bearly West Winding Hole
The wine cellar had a good sweep out and all that was left in there was one box of Tilly’s food. This soon changed when our order arrived! The driver was really excited to see that he was delivering to a boat, he spends quite a bit of time drinking at The Cape Of Good Hope in Warwick watching the boats. Once everything was stowed away, things repacked for the freezer we were ready for the off late morning. Quite a few boats had come up from the basin but then one came down from the locks. Best to take advantage of the lower locks being in our favour and not have a look around the craft market before we left. This proved to be a good thing, as all the locks were in our favour.
After being on the river for so long our watery world has shrunk somewhat, narrow locks and very narrow bridge holes for us to squeeze through. The Stratford Canal has many locks, 55 to get up to the Birmingham level and today we planned on ticking quite a few off. The bottom gates at this end of the canal are all single, so big and heavy, we’ve had several people warn us about them, nobody mentioned that none of them want to stay closed!
We worked up the first two locks, a group of gongoozlers following us. Up ahead I could see the open bottom gate of Maidenhead Lock 53, this was open for a reason, it is a B**t**d. When the canal became disused a new road bridge was built over the bottom of the lock. Not enough room was left for the lock beam, so a right angled one was added. Obviously the boat coming downhill hadn’t manage to shut it after them, or maybe hadn’t even bothered. Normally these cranked beams are made out of wood and you can usually just manage to get behind them to push off from a wall to get them going. This one however is made from a steel framework, getting it going wasn’t too much of a problem, it was getting it past the point of no return that was! I was determined that this lock would not beat me and was about to alter my tactics when one of the gongoozlers decided to join in. I think he thought his help would make it really easy, it certainly meant it got closed, but it still took time.
We hoped to fill with diesel at the Excellence Afloat base and as we approached another boat coming towards us looked like they had a similar idea, although at the last moment they seemed to change their mind. The base was closed and when they’d come through Wootton Wawen the pump there was broken. Hopefully it will be mended by the time we get there!
After Bishopton Lock we pulled in at the water point and checked out the rubbish bins. Now back in C&RT land we could dispose of all our rubbish responsibly, we’ve so missed recycling, our stern lockers had bags of glass and boxes of cardboard. The equivalent weight we’d gained this morning in shopping was possibly disposed of in the bins. We had a quick pit stop before starting the next batch of locks.
At the second of locks two volunteers were opening and closing the bottom gate, another chap appeared to be trying to clear something from behind the gate using a large box with holes on a very long pole. They waved us up and halted what they were doing, one chap saying I should go ahead and empty the lock above, oh and the top gate would be open. The gate was open and wanted to stay that way no matter how many times I tried to close it. The lock didn’t look anywhere near as full as it had been earlier in the day, the water mark a good 18 inches higher than the level, this meant the pound above was also down. I emptied out what water there was and brought Oleanna up watching bubbles rise from the bottom of the pound above, not a good sign.
Mick and Oleanna made slow progress towards the next batch of five locks whilst I walked ahead. The bottom lock was in our favour and I opened the gate and waited for them to crawl along the bottom of the pound towards me. In came the bow, about ten foot in and she slowed to a halt. Mick reversed her, then tried again with a bit more umph, another few feet. The bywash alongside had nothing flowing over it, the one into the pound above suggested someone was coming down the flight as it was more than overflowing. We tried flushing water into the lock to see if this would lift her enough to get over the cill, but no.
Now with a centre line up top for me to pull on, Mick brought Oleanna in gently (the more speed you have the lower the stern goes), we managed a few more feet before she was grounded again. With Mick pulling and no-one stood on the stern we got a few more inches in, but the stern was still way out of the lock. By now the boat coming down was only one lock away, so we reversed out and tied to a bollard, hoping that a lock full of water would make all the difference.
The boat coming down was a hire boat who worried that they wouldn’t get out of the lock, but we reassured them that it would be fine, they were bringing water with them and were likely to be far lighter than us. The gate paddle was whipped up and they started to descend. Within a minute Oleanna was struggling to stay at the side, bow right over and on such a list. I whipped the paddle down and Mick ran down to rescue her. This is the second time Oleanna has had to cling on with just the centre line, we are astounded and grateful at how strong the soft shackle is that joins them to the roof.
With the hire boat down and Tilly reassured at the bathroom window, Mick put Oleanna into gear only to find she now had something around her prop! Engine off, down the weed hatch, well what a surprise a pipe fender!!!! Just how many of these rubber fenders line the bottom of canals at lock flights because people want to protect their paintwork! On an afternoon like this you are guaranteed to pick one up on your prop.
I took a centre line and Mick brought Oleanna back towards the lock slowly. She slowed, but with me pulling she made it over the cill. Maybe one locks worth of water had made the difference, maybe it had washed away some silt, what ever the reason it meant we could carry on up the flight. Going into the next lock and the bywash here was a torrent, another boat was heading down. A Lockie walked up past us and asked if we’d had some trouble, it was only going to get worse as they’d had to drain a pound lower down that would now need refilling. He walked up ahead to stop any further traffic from coming down, but we were allowed to continue upwards.
They said we’d be okay in the longer pound before the last three locks of the flight, but knowing how low the pound we’d got stuck in was I wanted us to be in a far longer stretch of water before we stopped for the night. At the top of the five locks two C&RT chaps were mending a ground paddle and a small queue of boats was forming to go down. By the time we had cleared the next three locks I could just see that the front boat was starting to make it’s way down the flight, so hopefully no one was stuck for the night.
Time to see if there was any damage inside. I was expecting open drawers, but the list to starboard had brought open a drawer that has never opened before on the port side. Any bottles that were on the booze shelf, mainly whiskey were all across the floor, luckily intact. Our bottle of Rapeseed oil had been stopped from plummeting to it’s death by the bread board. I was very glad as that would have been a very sticky mess to have cleared up, but it would have saved me the job of oiling the oak floor.
Now much later than planned we kept our eyes peeled for a good spot for a barbecue. The first visitor mooring we came across was narrow and most of the bank was fighting to stay upright, so we carried on. A wider stretch with armco, trees, sideways trees and friendly cover. With a little bit of thistle chopping we’d have a very good mooring for all of us. We pulled in, showered and lit the barbecue.
I wasted little time and was straight up the first tree, proper outside at last! With my new outside claimed and marked out I could plunge in and out of the friendly cover and keep an eye on what they were doing. I stayed out for ages, only to be picked up when some noisy ginger woofer started to shout. I was going to give it what for but instead was taken inside, I was a bit peckish anyway.
16 locks, 4.3 miles, 6 boxes of wine, 1 cellar full, 1 freezer full, 0 diesel, 1 bottom very nearly at the top, 2 confused tracking programmes, 1 lock entered 8 times but only once successfully, 1 incredibly strong soft shackle, 0 rubbish left except the stuff forgotten under the sink! 2 locks mended, 1 orderly queue, 1 mooring on our own, 1 exceedingly happy cat, 4th Sunday barbeque in a row, 1 fox, 1 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.
A One Man Town.
Stratford
Walking around Stratford Upon Avon you could quite easily think that it only exists because of one man, Mr Shakespeare.
Originally an Anglo-Saxon village where the river could be crossed. It was granted a charter to hold a weekly market in 1196.
As a result the village expanded into a town and became a centre for trade and commerce. With the emergence of the canals, Stratford became a gateway from the Severn and Avon up into Birmingham.
In April 1564, John (a glove maker) and Mary (daughter of an affluent farmer) had a son whom they named William and Stratford’s future was sealed. William became an actor, poet and playwright.
By 1592 Will’s plays were being performed in London by a troop of actors called the Lord Chamberlain’s Men, later to be known as The King’s Men. Will married, had children wrote many plays and sonnets, by the time he reached the age of 49 he retired and returned to Stratford where he died three years later.
In 1769 actor David Garrick staged a major Shakespeare Jubilee which took place over three days in Stratford and this possibly kick started Stratford as a tourist destination. The councils and planners have managed to keep many of the old properties associated with Will. His birth place, his school, his house where he died, his daughters home, his wife’s family home, his fathers family farm, his mothers family home (although this turned out to actually being 30yrds further down the road!).
During our visit we have done very little, if anything to do with Will. Yes we’ve been to the theatre, but not to actually see any of his plays and we’ve resisted buying any of the tat that is everywhere. However, if it wasn’t for that chap who wrote some plays all those years ago (the most performed British playwright) much of what we have done and seen wouldn’t exist, certainly the 2.5/3 million tourists wouldn’t flock here each year. I wonder what Stratford would be like if he’d never been born, or had just followed in his fathers footsteps as a glove maker. Will Scarborough in centuries to come have fridge magnets and clotted cream fudge with pictures of Alan Ayckbourn (the most performed living British playwright), and in Hull will you be able to buy a John Godber (the second most performed living British playwright) bow tie and Coal not Dole badges?
Fourteas and Four Years. 9th June
Bancroft Basin to The Red Lion
It’s true what we’ve heard about the Japanese tourists here. As we were having breakfast this morning we could hear voices and Oleanna dipped just slightly to one side. On opening the hatch to see what had caused this we could see a lady posing to have her photo taken, one foot on our gunnel and a hand on the grab rail, at least the RSC would be in the background! Mick had left the cratch cover rolled up after going for a newspaper this morning which gave the lady somewhere to put her foot. Yesterday morning there had been a photo opportunity for someone to stand on the stern of our nearest neighbour, we’d thought being moored bow in that we’d avoid being a photo opp, but no. There’s no point in saying anything as it won’t stop the next person from doing the same.
Our 48hrs on the pontoons would be up at lunchtime, so Mick walked up to have a look behind the Red Lion after the next bridge, there was plenty of space so before the trip boats started for the day we pushed off and moved so that we could stay another night in Stratford. As we pulled up we both noticed an open gateway into the pubs car park, a perfect place for a Sainsburys delivery. No delivery slots today, but there were some for the morning, perfect, I added a couple of boxes of wine to secure our slot and checked out, leaving the rest of the shopping until later in the day.
I wanted to have a look around the market and my great narrow broom that I got for Christmas needed returning to Lakeland as the handle had stopped being extendable, it packs away nicely under the gunnel in the bathroom. We both went into Lakeland, but without a proof of purchase they couldn’t do anything. Six months later, a receipt for a broom! Mick returned to the boat to hunt out his credit card statement from December whilst I headed to the market hoping to pick up some fresh veg and the like.
Stratford has a Farmers market twice a month and Antiques the other Saturdays, today sadly there was not one fresh fruit and veg stall, just old plates, lamps and books, only olives nuts and fudge were edible. More to add to the internet shopping list.
At lunch time we were joined by Ian and Liz this time with their two daughters, Martha and Florence. Both of the girls wanted to meet Tilly and Florence was impressed by our cat steps to get inside the boat. Tilly obliged for a while but then found some piece and quiet behind our mattress and under the duvet, only for me to have a request to see if I could get Mrs Tilly to come back out. I quite liked being called Mrs Tilly, I shall only respond to this from now on.
Once the girls had seen the boat we walked up into town for lunch. Fourteas is a 1940’s tearoom which was set up by an ex-stage manager from the RSC. It is decorated suitably and stuffed full of period props, the waitresses are costumed and the menus are ration books, although what is on the menu certainly doesn’t keep to WW2 rations. The place was packed, a table became free for us outside after ten minutes. Cake stands were everywhere with cakes and sandwiches piled high. We all made suitable choices, lots of scrambled egg with choices of muffins or toast. Mick and I opted for the GI breakfast which was extremely tasty with bananas, pancakes, bacon, poached eggs, maple syrup and some fresh fruit all accompanied with a cuppa and a tea timer to let you know when it had brewed long enough. It’s a very good job we hadn’t know about here earlier as we’d have been tempted most mornings!
After we’d had our fill and looked at the Anderson shelter we walked up to The Other Place where Liz gave us a tour round. The whole of the rusty box next to the original Courtyard Theatre had been built as a 1000 seat theatre space which was used as a temporary home when the major works were being carried out on the RST. Once the refurbished theatre was reopened this temporary building was meant to be taken down, but locals had grown to like it, so it was adapted to what it is now. The studio space takes up very little of the building, two large rehearsal spaces and masses of costume storage. Areas that were once toilets for the thousand punters each night have been repurposed into presentation areas. The whole building has more of a heart to it than The Swan and the RST. Up the road when there are no shows on it consists of a shop and cafes surrounded by empty corridors that lead to the theatres. But here plenty is going on all the time, there was an impromptu mask making session going on front of house which had kept the kids occupied whilst we walked round the rails of costumes.
We parted ways with Liz and Ian as there was a birthday party to get ready for. It’s been lovely to see them again after so long and very good of Liz to have organised tickets and tours for us. Hopefully we might get chance to see them again later in the year.
Once the remainder of our shopping had been ordered, a bit more wine for under the steps (it’s empty down there you know) and plenty of food we headed out for dinner. I’ve been fancying a Chinese for quite sometime and we took pot luck on a restaurant near the station. As soon as we walked in we both knew that it wasn’t quite what we’d hoped for, but it would do. A poor relation to those Chinese Buffets in Manchester, but they did have aromatic duck with pancakes so it was okay. Just not quite what we’d thought of to mark our fourth anniversary of the start to our narrowboat journey.
0 locks, 0.13 miles, 1 finally successful replacement of a narrowboat narrow broom after two attempts, 0 fruit and veg, 0 wine on board, 1 bottle purchased, 2 new friends, 1 new name, 4t’s, 2 coffees, 2 eggs, 3 pancakes, 2 rashers, 2 GI breakfasts, 2 mini Wainwrights, 2 big Wainwrights, 2nd tour, 1 photo allowed, 1 big shop, 3 trees claimed, 1 car park too, 2 slightly disappointing buffets, 4 aromatic duck pancakes with plenty of Hoi Sin sauce, 1 family of extinguishers, 4 years that was going to be 1, 1 more year planned, at least!
https://goo.gl/maps/esyHsPBegmy
MAD And Mrs Rich. 8th June
Bancroft Basin
With new never to be used train tickets and voucher in hand we set off to find the museum. Most visitors too Stratford flock to all the Shakespeare sights, birthplace, daughters house, his house, his grave, where he once sneezed etc, but instead we headed straight to MAD Mechanical Art and Design. It took us a little bit to find as Google maps was a little bit misleading in it’s location, but once found it was well worth it.
With our Days Out voucher and train ticket we got in 2 for 1, we possibly could have flashed any train ticket at the chap, but you never know. He explained how the exhibits worked, press the illuminated button, keep your fingers clear and watch, toilets in that corner. So we did as we were told.
My first experience of such a place was when I was maybe 14 in Covent Garden. Down at the bottom of the market was a small shop filled with wooden mechanical sculptures, some were powered, some you turned a crank, all were made by a chap called Paul Spooner. I fell in love with them. The other day when looking for things we should do in Stratford, apart from the obvious, I knew this was right up our street.
Turning whisks and scone cutters, light bulbs flashing. Thin bent wire formed tracks for marbles to run down the only power required to return them back to the top.
What is it about such things that holds everyone’s attention? You can stand and watch one ball come down from the top following it’s route and then move on. Or you can stand and wait to see which route the next marble will take, a thing flicks over and a whole new course for it to follow, or it gets trapped awaiting for a second one to join it when they will over balance a seesaw and then be sent down two more courses.
There were plenty of different exhibits all keeping us transfixed. Mick was particularly taken with Number 80, when ever I’d lost him he would just be stood waiting for the third ball to join and release opening up another track. He was quite distraught when it stopped and didn’t work anymore, but the chap on duty came along picked up all the whopper marbles, including the one on the floor, put them in at the top and pressed the button, mended.
In a darkened room you could watch films by kinetic artists. One chap hates licking stamps so developed a machine to collect his tears whilst chopping onions these then fell on the back of a stamp, more chopping onions and another machine involving a desk pencil sharpener moistened and closed the envelope for him. Surely everyone needs one of these. Another film showed one mans work for the last four years Metropolis 2. Thousands of toy cars are carried by conveyor up to the top of his creation and then left to travel down at 23.4 mph following tracks with sides to stop them falling and fouling the whole city.
Here’s a few links to some of the exhibits. MAD 1 MAD 2 MAD 3
We had a great time and would highly recommend it for a few hours.
Liz had very kindly arranged for us to join one of the tours around the RSC today. The Swan theatre occupies a Victorian Gothic building which was originally the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre which opened in 1879 after Charles Flowers, a local brewer, donated the site. In 1926 the auditorium and stage were destroyed in a fire, the Chairman of the board Sir Archibald Flower started to raise funds to rebuild the theatre. Instead of using the original building the New Shakespeare Memorial Theatre was built next door opening it’s Art Deco doors in 1932.
In 1986 The Swan Theatre was created in the shell of the Victorian building, the auditorium based on a Tudor style theatre with a thrust stage, this proved to be quite popular with the public even though it wasn’t a replica. When the RST was redeveloped in 2007 this was taken on board and a similar but 1000 seat auditorium was built here, replacing the proscenium (end on) stage that I had visited when I was 20. In 2011 the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre was officially opened by the Queen.
Our tour guide took us around the building, a general tour covering the auditoria, control rooms, space that is used for costume storage and most back stage areas. No photos allowed. It was interesting to see the scale of everything, most of what our guide talked about is very similar in every theatre, although he used slightly different terms to make it easier to understand. I decided I should keep quiet when questions were being asked, which was hard. At least there wasn’t my favourite question, ‘How do the actors keep up with the lights?’.
We had time afterwards to return to the boat for some food before heading back out to see The Fantastic Follies of Mrs Rich in the Swan. Liz had got us tickets on the ground level which are all bench seats, a bit cosy.
Mrs Rich is a wealthy bankers widow, who has aspirations to gain friends in high places and maybe even gain a title. Those around her have seen her coming and take advantage of her naivety. Many story lines twist at high speed around each other in this comedy of manners written by Mary Pix in the late 1600’s. Four saxophones and a harpsicord provide the boisterous music for the occasional song. Sophie Stanton was extremely good in the title role with the rest of the cast not far behind her. The period costumes were lavish and two Irish Wolf Hounds performed remarkably well despite the gunshots. A very jolly frivolous evening to round off the day.
0 locks, 0 miles, 1 job, 2 train tickets, 2 for 1, 3 hours of turning cranks, 3326 marbles, 2 grinning boaters, 1 hour tour, 0 thatched roof, 1 SM in charge of everything! 500 lights all at full, 2 comps, 22 cast, 2 dogs, 6 musicians, 5 pannierd big frocks, 1 very good day.
Goodbye Avon, Hello Canal. 7th June
Chain Ferry to The Old Bathing Place to Bancroft Basin
Supermarkets aren’t very well positioned for the river in Stratford. In town there is a small Sainsburys and an M&S food hall which are okay. This morning however we decided to walk across the park to Waitrose and see what was in their ‘sad gits’ isle. Just over a mile away we had a pleasant walk across the park and joined the old tramway sitting high above the A3400 south out of town. We picked up enough for a couple of meals and had spent a tenner to get a free newspaper.
Time to move off, our Avon license had already expired. We decided to head upstream first to make use of the bins and water point at the Fisherman’s Car Park. Novice rowers were out in force this morning giving us an obstacle course to negotiate and as we reached the bridges the trip boats were setting off too. The moorings on the river had thinned out leaving only a couple of boats. We followed the signs for the correct arches and carried on upstream leaving the rowers behind, except they were now replaced with zooming zippy little taxi boats, at least they were more manoeuvrable.
More long gardens come down to the meet the river. Our friends Liz and Ian live in Tiddington about 200ft as the crow flies from the river at the limit of navigation. We wondered if their house was anything like the ones we were passing, knowing full well that such houses would be well out of their range. On a wide bend in the river were the services, we pulled up playing hopscotch trying to avoid the goose pooh. Other than those with need of an Elsan we wondered how many boats head up here, most boaters would have disposed of their rubbish in the bins at the park and topped up their water tank there too.
The water tap is set quite a distance away and our normal 20m hose didn’t quite reach, necessitating adding our second hose which of course proceeded in coming away at the end. Once mended we filled the tank, emptied the yellow water, cleaned out Tilly’s pooh box and disposed of our rubbish apart from the recycling. Our decision to work our way through the wine bottles on the shelf was not the wisest as the Avon has no recycling for glass.
With everything filled or emptied Oleanna was winded, in between the passing craft, and we headed back to Stratford. There is nowhere to drop crew off at the lock so Mick carried on down to be level with the theatre before winding and pulling up on the moorings to drop me off, by which time a trip boat was just turning into the lock. One of their crew stayed and helped me turn the lock for us to come up, as the gates opened Mick was already on his way. With the gates closed behind Oleanna we were back on C&RT waters, we’ve really enjoyed the river, far prettier than many others, we’ll be back to head downstream next time.
The basin was starting to fill up, a boat was just arriving from the canal as we came out from the lock. We’d had a request from the trip boat to moor in the centre if we could, leaving them plenty of space to be able to wind after the pontoons. The chap at first didn’t seem too happy with where we were heading but after Mick went to see him he was fine, he thought we were longer than we actually are. Mooring on short pontoons on our starboard side is going to be a little bit tricksy for a while until we get the fareleed sorted, the one that got more than it bargained for below a lock the other day.
What had happened to the day? We’d bought single tickets to Stratford from the nearest station to make use of a Days Out Voucher, 2 for 1, but by the time we’d had lunch there wasn’t enough time to make the most of it. Luckily we cancelled the train tickets and got a full refund. Instead of museums we decided to walk down the river, see if we could get tickets at The Other Place for the show tonight. With tickets reserved we decided to go and check that Will was actually dead. Holy Trinity Church is where the famous playwrite lies along with his family. Normally when we visit churches we have a good look round and add a couple of pound coins into their donations box as we leave. Here there is a suggested Donation of £3 with a lady stood by the choir ready to collect your donation. With the number of visitors they have every day it must be one of the richest churches in the country. We decided to have a look around the church but avoid the tomb itself. So we’ll never know if Will is actually dead or not.
Along the streets here there are many differing street lights, they have been donated by councils all over Britain, some have come from further afield Brugges. The first one we spotted was from Hull.
In the evening we headed to The Other Place. Originally a tin shed rehearsal space, in 1974 it was converted into a performance space for adventurous and experimental work by contemporary writers. The building has grown through the years closing in 1989 to be rebuilt with a permanent brick building. In 2005 it was adapted to have a foyer for The Courtyard Theatre which allowed performances to continue whilst the Royal Shakespeare and Swan theatres had work done to them. The shell of The Courtyard Theatre’s auditorium was kept and adapted to create a new The Other Place. It is called by those who work at the RSC as the Engine House, this is where the Stage Management are based, costumes are stored, rehearsal rooms, a cafe and bar and the studio theatre, very much the working heart of the RSC.
The Mischief Festival consists of two one act plays which centre around the freedom of speech, both true stories. #Wearearrested is the story of a journalist from Turkey who received a flash drive containing evidence of illegal government activity. Should he publish or not. He does and the play centres around what happens to him and other journalists who spoke out about the President. Much of the play is set in his prison cell, almost a one man show, with three accompanying actors moving around the theatre laid out in the round for the two plays. A simple set of three tables which get moved around to create space and place worked very well with a touch of magic sprinkled ontop. One lady in the audience was astounded with the set and it’s use, she’s obviously not seen much rep theatre where your budget for the while show is £400 ‘what can we do with these tables then?’ I suspect the tables tonight cost a bit more than £400.
Day Of The Living Dead, set in Ayotzinapa, Mexico 2014 where 43 students were forcefully disappeared. The ensemble company, the surviving students, retell the story with toe tapping Mexican music and masks. We’re still not sure why the masks were used, amusing and cleaver at times, but why? Maybe we missed something. The parting image of 43 kids windmills all being blown round by a, slightly noisy wind machine, was quite moving. For £15 a ticket it was worth going, we enjoyed both shows, the first one being the stronger piece, but we’re not sure either of them deserved a partial standing ovation.
1 lock, 1.84 miles, 2 winds, 1 left, 1 full water tank, 1 empty wee tank, 1 boat off the river, 1 basin full, 0 museums, £3.20 refunded, 2 Lucy graves, 0 Will grave, 2 plays, 1 other place., 2 annoying technicians!
River Levels at 9am today
Stratford, 0.607m
Warwick, 1.101m
Too Early For The Ferryman. 6th June
Stratford Chain Ferry
The last couple of days we’ve been trying to sort out meeting up with some friends who I used to work with at the Stephen Joseph Theatre in Scarborough. Their schedules were busy but a slot for them to visit was possible this morning. We’re not normally early risers so today we needed an alarm clock to make sure that we’d be awake and had breakfast before our friends arrived. This worked and we even had time to adjust our mooring to stern end in for ease of stepping on board.
However Ian and Liz arrived before the ferryman and the river lay between us! Thank goodness Ian still has a voice that needs no assistance, his Dewsbury accent boomed across the Avon, he suggested that they’d walk round. But we were aware that their time would be limited with us, so we decided to push over to pick them up. Untied, pram cover dropped, Mick manoeuvred us across the river in between the early rowers and brought the bow in to where the chain ferry docks. I couldn’t see the chain at this end and we were just touching the bottom as the bow fender gently touched the dock. We were going to get no closer, so Ian and Liz stepped across onto the very front of the bow, Liz joining me in the cratch whilst we reversed back to our mooring and Ian remaining on the bow. It’s not often we get to give visitors a ride anywhere and this certainly saved a good 10 minute walk round.
We managed an hour with them before they had to return to work across the river, neither of them have changed a jot. Hopefully we’ll get chance to meet up later in the week for a drink at the theatre. They managed to get back across the river with a touch more grace this time as the ferryman had now turned up.
The hire boat behind us had moved off so we pulled back onto a long straight, no more banana mooring.
Our order of fuses had arrived in Pershore so Mick decided to go back to get them, two buses, two different companies and an hour and half each way. But we’d have spares should we need them whilst we decide if there’s a better solution. So he headed off and left me to have a quiet morning with Tilly. It was quiet once she’d given up being pestered by the local crows and stayed inside.
Our mooring permit mentioned bins at the Fisherman’s Carpark, the one’s marked on Waterway Routes were still a way up stream, so I decided to see if I could find them. After walking across the park I found that all the car parks had the same name, so I checked google. The Fisherman’s Carpark was upstream just where Waterway Routes had them marked. No point in checking and good job I hadn’t brought any rubbish with me. Instead I walked up the canal to check on other possible moorings as our time on the river will be up tomorrow.
The canal basin is noisy, exposed and certainly not cat friendly, so I walked up the canal, also to see if there would be easy access to Morrisons on the way out of town for a big shop. A C&RT chap was doing something at one of the locks and NB Keyston sat below, they’d either gone shopping or hadn’t been able to close a gate behind them, so had called the men in blue out. No easy access to Morrisons as far as I could tell, maybe a bridge further up would have been better. Only really one place to moor and that has thick trees, so no solar, and signs asking you to refrain from running your engine for more than half an hour! So not the best place to be. Further up by Excellence Afloat you could pull in, but the bank looked soft and you’d have to be on pins.
I met up with Mick and we had a bit more of a wander around. When I lived in York I found tourists fascinating, today I added another one to my collection. An oriental lady with a pink phone and selfie stick. She could have been absolutely anywhere in the world smiling and holding onto t-shirts, or balancing on one leg to get the right angle of her face in front of something or other. I wonder if she actually got to see any of Stratford, she’s certainly come a long way not to!
0 locks, 300ft, 150ft reversed, 1 first night party, 1 booming voice (handy with crowds of kids), 2 ex-SJT now RSC staff, 1 ferry, 1 introduction, 1 hour to catch up, 1 proper ferry, 4 buses, 5 fuses, 2 CROWS! 2 chilled medications, 1 shouty Jack Russell, 2 names stupid! 1 quiet evening on board.
River Levels at 9am today
Stratford, 0.618m
Warwick, 1.109m
Slowly Does Everything. 5th June
Luddington Lock to Stratford Chain Ferry
A slow start for us this morning with no sudden movements for me. The two hire boats that had pulled up behind us last night headed up towards Stratford and a couple of boats headed down stream, including NB Jolly Lamb whom we’d last seen in Kidderminster many moons ago.
We ran the washing machine and then topped up with water, it’s a nice feeling when the dirty linen drawer is empty, just a shame it doesn’t last long! Mick also saw to the yellow water tank as we were near an elsan. Extra layers were called for as we pushed off, jumpers and fleeces, there was quite a chill in the air.
As we approached Weir Brake Lock, Mick spotted the Countess of Evesham, a restaurant boat, up on the next reach heading towards the lock. In our favour we worked our way up, but the Countess didn’t show. Last night she had come all the way down to Luddington, reversing past us and tying up on the lock landing for the passengers to stretch their legs for fifteen minutes before returning to Stratford. The evening cruises are longer than the lunchtime ones, so they must have winded up stream of the lock.
The river now wider than yesterday started to have the look of a city with park land and tarmacked pathways. At Stratford Trinity Lock the Countess was on her way back up. 41 for lunch today, all quaffing wine from big glasses and waving at us. Before leaving the lock they radioed to a trip boat that had just come past, now winding above the weir. There was time for them to clear the lock before they were overtaken.
We emptied the lock and brought Oleanna up to the Stratford level. A lady watched on from a bench, taking the occasional photo. She got talking to Mick as the lock levelled out. A German lady who wanted to know what sort of notice a boat had to give to use the lock. It took a little while before she understood that the boat was ours and the lock was self operated and that we weren’t here just to operate the lock for passing boats.
We pootled our way in passing Holy Trinity Church , where a certain Mr Shakespeare is buried.
Along the park bank there is plenty of space for mooring. We spotted a space behind NB Wanderer but carried on hoping for a space opposite the RSC. There was space, but we’d have had to use pins near the waterpoint. Where there were rings, boats had nicely spaced themselves out, no-one having to share rings. Two boats could have nudged up to make space for us, but by this time we’d decided that it would be nicer nearer the chain ferry a bit less footfall. So we winded headed back down stream to wind again between the trip boats and the chain ferry and pulled up. The space was long enough for us, but on a bend. We opted for stern end out.
The ladies from NB Wanderer came out for a chat. Yesterday when they’d reached Luddington, which was in their favour there was a boat waiting to come down just as we’d thought. This was the same hire boat we’d encountered, their first time and obviously they hadn’t quite slowed down yet! The ladies were hardly in the lock when the gate was being closed behind them and the wrong side paddle being raised swiftly.
Mooring here was going to be more suitable for Tilly, but it turned out she didn’t like it. Too many people, woofers and some very noisy swoopy crows who wouldn’t shut up! The number of those hissing swans coming up to the hatch, how rude are they, demanding bread. They all needed a good swipe from my paw! The back doors were soon closed and all wild life whether furry or feathered were under control again.
Up in the canal basin is a welcome boat for the Avon Navigation Trust, here you can get information, buy licences and pay for overnight mooring on the river. Because we’d had red boards on the river the lady said we’d be alright for an extra night, so we paid for 48hours mooring. We’ve enjoyed the river so didn’t mind donating £10 more to the trusts funds. A walk round town to pick up a bit of food for today and have a quick nosy.
Just how many tourists? Yes we were adding to the numbers. It’s a good job there is so much land around the RSC as it was packed, mostly with French students. I’m glad we’re a little bit out of the way where we are moored.
Our walk brought us back to the river to the chain ferry. Unfortunately we weren’t able to pay our 50p to cross as the chap had gone home. So we sat and chatted to two sisters who were making the most of the last five minutes of their paid for parking, watching the river go by. We now had to walk round as we were not been able to attract the attention of anyone on the moored boats to come and get us.
2 locks, 3.09 miles, 1 full washing machine, 1 full water tank, 1 empty wee tank, 0 recycling still! 41 for lunch, 0 windlass, 3 git gaps, 0 offers to move up, 2 winds, 2 self important crows, 6421 long necked white beasts! 2 nights mooring, 4 months now 4 weeks, 4 yellow pills, 2 late for the chain ferry.
River Levels at 9am today
Stratford, 0.626m
Warwick, 1.115m
Charging. 4th June
Barton Lock to Luddington Lock
Mick headed back to Bidford Boat Services by bike this morning in the hope that they might have a fuse. Last night we’d received an email from Amazon saying that the fuses that had been ordered had been dispatched to Pershore, five days after they’d been ordered and two days after Mick had tried to cancel them, they were too far through processing for this to happen! At the boat yard he got chatting to Mike an engineer, he rummaged through things and pulled out a suitable fuse that he’d had for years. Mick said that they could have chatted about boat electrics for ages but he managed to pull himself away, stopping off at Budgens for some broccoli and bread on his way home.
By the time we were ready to set off several boats had already passed us heading upstream, we were about half an hour behind the last one by the time Tilly had come home and the new fuse had been installed, so maybe we’d catch them up or maybe not.
The River Avon certainly attracts good lawn mowers, the other day the robotic ones and today big sit on ones. One chap was busy cutting the towpath and the routes down to the fishing pegs on the banks. He’d pop out through banks of high nettles, stop just in the nick of time and then spin round on the spot to return to the main path. It looked like great fun. Another chap further along was mowing a large garden on a bigger sit on mower, this didn’t look quite so much fun as he had to reverse round trees, not just swing himself round.
Bidford Grange Lock at only 2ft 6” was easy to empty and a smooth ride upwards. The river from here on much narrower than further downstream, the banks higher and steeper. Our speed dropped, the river may have been shallower, the flow of the water faster against us heading upstream, but Oleanna was having to work hard. The Rapeseed flowers are past their best now and the Elderflower has taken over, every now and again you get a big waft of the sweet scent. I really must stock up on sugar and lemons to make some cordial before the flower heads are past their best. Dog roses hang over banks of trees adding pink to the mass of green.
On reaching Welford Lock (Cadbury Lock) the boat ahead of us was just finishing going up. We helped the ladies of NB Wanderer with the gates and chatted. They had only bought a weeks licence in Tewkesbury but have enjoyed the river so much they are going to get another and head back south instead of carrying on up onto the Stratford Canal. In no rush they said they’d wait for us at the next lock.
As we re-set the chamber I watched a chap walking round his immaculate garden on the opposite bank, he was wafting away imperfections with a leaf blower. A gentle stream tumbled down a small waterfall into the river, very lovely, they certainly know how to do gardens round here.
Welford Lock was noted in our guides as being very turbulent when filled and we should tie up very well. It being over 7ft deep and the bollards not quite in the right places made this a touch difficult. But with Mick holding onto the stern line and four turns around a bollard at the bow I started to open up the paddles. These create a plume of water over the surface and opening the one on the same side as Oleanna seemed to keep her into the side. Mick kept putting her into reverse which helped hold the bow in. My four turns held well (a tip from the hire boats at Sewerby Bridge), no slipping as you sometimes get if you put a loop over the bollard, you can also easily untie your rope when there is a lot of tension on it without any risk of loops and fingers!
A mile upstream was Binton Bridge, another with multiple arches none identical in either height or width. They may be good at gardens but have cobbled their bridges together somewhat,
, although it makes them quite interesting.
Along this next reach of the river I got the tell tale signs of a migraine starting, thanks body! The blank spot in my vision, followed by numb hands etc, I quickly took some pink pills hoping that they would reduce the effects. By the time we reached Luddington Lock I could feel all my fingers again and it was the lull before the head ache kicked in, I just hoped I wouldn’t have to chat to anyone too much.
The ladies on NB Wanderer had obviously had to go up before we arrived as a boat was just about to come down. The force from the weir meant we had to push through to the landing stage. I managed to hop off as quickly as possible, closely followed by Mick with the centre line. Up at the lock a lady lifted the paddles straight up, not waiting to check to see if we’d tied up. Mick struggled with the flow of the water gushing from the gates only having managed to get one turn around a post. Oleannas bow was being pushed right over and Mick was clinging on for dear life, our Alde boiler flue getting perilously close to being broken on the landing stage. By the time I got up to the lock it was too late to slow the whole thing down and Mick was just managing to pull Oleanna in. The lady said hello, totally unaware of what had just happened below the lock. I decided to keep my mouth shut as all that would have come out would have been expletives not totally deserved and partially caused by my growing headache. We suspect that most experienced boaters would have noted us arriving below and waited for us to tie up before opening up the paddles full whack, but this was one of the posh hire boats from Anglo Welsh. It could have been their first time out or twenty fifth, who knew, from what I remember basic lock training doesn’t include checking on other peoples boats you may effect.
Once up we pulled over onto the moorings. Here a couple of water taps were positioned so that we could be right at the end and still fill with water. A quick check of the area and it was deemed fine for Tilly. We had a quiet afternoon whilst Tilly was extremely busy somewhere out of sight, possibly running around like a loon whilst trying to find holes in the very nice big lawn behind the fence alongside the moorings.
3 locks, 5.52 miles, 100amp fuse, 1 parcel dispatched, 5 spare fuses might be good, 2 outsides, 1 boat almost swept away, 1 broken fairlead, 2 pink pills, 2 yellow pills, 1 cordon Pip class for Mick, 0 yo-yos, 7 holes that are maybe a bit bigger, 5 crows, 1 hissing fight with Mum and Dad swan, 1 restaurant boat reversing past, 2 bow thruster batteries charging again.
River Levels at 9am today
Stratford, 0.648m
Warwick, 1.117m