Joys of mobile internet

I haven't posted for a few days, due to connection details here in Alrewas: here's a bit to be going on with - full story as soon as I've got a better connection!

Friday 30 March

Today's task is to get back to Alrewas - Elanor is going to join us for dinner again, and then stay the night, as the plan for the weekend is for us to go over to her house and advise on the mounting of a corner cupboard, have a look at her progress in sorting it out after moving in, and generally socialise a bit. Stuart, her boyfriend, is coming up by train from his home in Horsham, and it'll be good to see him again.

We made an average start from Shobnall (ie about 9), and did the short run to the Morrison's mooring, where Sheila stayed on anchor watch while the washing machine did its thing, and I walked over to Morrison's to get a paper and some bread. A boat tied behind us on the mooring set off while I was doing this. On return to the boat, we set off too, and arrived at the next lock, Branston, as the leading boat was just entering it. It was my turn to steer, so She walked up to the lock to help.

Had to wait for a Canaltime to come down, then up we went. Sheila was chuckling as I arrived - it seems the boat ahead is crewed by two ladies of mature years, seemingly on their first trip, and already expressing anxiety about the level of fitness required. As Branston is not a hard lock to work, and as they were planning to do the Leicester ring, which includes some substantial river locks in its later phases, I do hope they are going to be OK.

On we went to Tatenhill lock to repeat the procedure almost exactly. On this occasion, one of the ladies asked Sheila how many locks they'd done so far.

"Where did you start from?" asks Sheila.

"Shobnall" came the reply.

"Then this is your second lock"

"Oh dear"

Oh dear indeed. The moral is, it's great to see people experiencing the canals for the first time, whether they are in the first flush of youth or have left it to a bit later in life, but it's really a good idea to try hiring first, before laying out a lot of money for a boat. The towpath telegraph is full of stories of people whose resources, shall we say, somewhat exceeded their store of common sense, who spend huge amounts of cash on a state of the art boat, only to sell it at a loss within months of taking delivery.

What is even more alarming is to see people with little or no boating experience selling up their house and moving on board a boat. Living aboard is wonderful - for us. It's not for everyone, as the life involves some big differences from life ashore. There is a shedload of advice available, especially from the RBOA, but the crux of it is - read the books, do some boating, then do some more boating in winter, then think hard about the changes it will mean.

If after all that you still want to try it, then fantastic, welcome to the gang, our boat's called Sanity because it's all the sanity we've got in our lives!

Anyway, here endeth the lesson. On we went to Barton Turns to water before carrying on to Alrewas. Arrived there at about two, and settled on the mooring just above the lock off the river, beside Rebel's field. Rebel is an Exmoor pony who used to pull the local milk cart, and on retirement was adopted by the village. He's now in his thirties, but still looks hale and hearty, and has a great life coping with all the scraps people feed him.

Elanor duly turned up and helped eat a liver casserole.

Saturday 31 March

We were all up and about in good time, considering it was a Saturday. By 9.30 we were in Elanor's car heading for Burton, doing in quarter of an hour what had taken about four the day before. We called at the Marston's Brewery shop for me to get a slab of 24 cans of Pedigree, and for Elanor to do some serious buying.

She's an active member of London wrg (ie the London branch of the Waterway Recovery Group), and whenever there's a weekend dig or party coming up, she takes orders for beer for the group. It's got to the stage that when she walks in, they get the hand trolley out ready.

She dropped us off at the house where we officially live, and went off to get Stuart from Derby station.

A pleasant day passed doing bits and pieces in her (our) house, including fixing the dreaded corner cupboard. This is an heirloom that's passed down the distaff side of Sheila's family. It's an 18th century, mahogany veneered cupboard. It looks lovely, but is an absolute swine to fix to the walls of a modern house. It's not a true right angle at the back for a start, it weighs about 10 kilos, and the fixing at the top is almost impossible to reach with a screwdriver. Sheila's father hated the thing, I hate it, and now Stuart's learning to hate it too. Welcome to the family, Stuart.

However, at last it was done, and we enjoyed the rest of the day hugely. By half four we were heading back to the boat, where Stuart and Elanor declined the offer of a meal with us in favour of some quality time together. They missed out on lamb tagine with cous cous, but I'm sure they thought it was worth it.