Yaffles all around

Tuesday 10 July

After a cloudy start, the weather became sunny once more, and we had another glorious morning’s boating. Whilst working down Stoke Hammond Lock, a passing dog walker warned us about the stoppage here on the next day. We already knew about it, and of course we don’t plan to come back this way, but it was typical of the unprompted kindness one finds on the cut.

We stopped above Fenny Stratford Lock for water. As we approached who should we see emerging from the lock but Nuggler, Braidbar 64, with Mike and Pat Fisher on their way back from the abortive rally at Stourport. It was supposed to be a Roving Rally, meeting at various points on the way to the Saul festival, but with the cancellation of Saul and the long closure of the rivers, it had been reduced to a single meeting at Stourport.

We reached Campbell Park by lunchtime, and after eating walked into town to buy stamps, post a letter and buy a New Home card for Graeme and Cathy, who move into their new place in Lincolnshire on Thursday.

Back at the boat I had a couple of phone calls from bits of the NHS in Staffordshire. It seems our usually efficient post handling system has broken down for once. As always, staff at our GP Surgery were the soul of helpfulness – they do make so much difference to our life.

We took a bit of time to work out a cruising plan for the next few days. Having asked for a repeat prescription to be sent to Braunston PO, we’ve rather got to get there now. In fact there’s just nice time to do it on a relaxed cruising schedule: Cosgrove, Stoke Bruerne, Weedon, top of Buckby, Braunston, and then back to Gayton Junction for Wednesday the 18th, so that we then have two days in hand for the route down the Nene and across the Middle Level in time for our booked crossing on the 1st of August.

In the evening we had texts from Graham and Carolann on Autumn Years, now back at Stoke Bruerne already, and from John and Nev on Waimaru, now well up the River Lee. Looks like we’ll meet Autumn Years as they come south and we head north, but sadly they are pressing on as fast as they can go to make up time, so can’t stop to have a meal with us.

Wednesday 11 July

A bit of change in the weather at last, with a cloudy morning for once. Oh well, it was to be expected, I guess. We made an 8.30 start and still had a pleasant morning’s boating, with a lot of birds to be seen for some reason. These included a heron who’d chosen to sit at the very top of a tree, rather than on the edge of the canal as usual, and Sheila saw three green woodpeckers (‘yaffles’) pecking about on the towpath.

After a pause at the Wolverton Tesco, we arrived at Cosgrove at about midday. No sooner had we tied than Acen and Autumn Years emerged from the lock ahead and stopped for lunch. It was good to see both Graham and Carolann and John and Jo again, even if there was only time to have a good natter before they needed to be pressing on. Graham and Carolann were full of tales about their enforced sojourn on the Nene, and full of praise for the Middle Nene Cruising Club’s hospitality and helpfulness to them.

It contrasted sharply with the tale of someone caught by floods on an earlier occasion, at Fotheringay, where the farmer charges three quid a night to moor on his meadow side. This seems fair enough under ordinary circumstances, but this guy was stuck there for a month, and yes, the farmer charged him £3 for every night he was there.

After lunch and the departure of the south bound flotilla, we went for a walk along the riverside. Summoning up all her courage, Sheila managed to cross the Wolverton Aqueduct on foot so that we could get down to the river bank and follow the path alongside it towards downstream. This proved to be a very pleasant excursion, and once more there were several opportunities for bird spotting, with yaffles to the fore. Using Sheila’s binoculars, we managed to see one posed on a tree trunk in classic fashion.

Also abundantly present were yellowhammers, one in particular being so large and puffed up that at first we thought it was an escaped budgie.

Come dinner time, I had an attack of terminal laziness and instead of cooking, we went to the Barley Mow. We were last in this pub eighteen months ago, when we had a good but not exceptional meal. This time was much better. The pub was quiet, early on a Wednesday night, and the Tiger was off, but I had a very decent pint of Adnams, and Sheila in particular got herself outside a luscious Wiltshire ham, chicken and leek pie. We paid fifteen quid a head for two courses, so a fair price for a very decent meal.