Cruising some beautiful canal

31st July & 1st August

Although we had only a short run to do yesterday, we set off at eight along one of the most beautiful bits of canal in the country. It wends and winds its way between tree lined banks until it arrives at Kinver.

150 years ago, this was a densely industrial area, but you really, really can't tell now. We can but hope that the present post-industrial areas look as good in 100 years time as this one does.

At Kinver, we stopped on the water point above the lock, filled the tank and started a wash load, then worked down to find a mooring just below. There's a strictly enforced 24 hour rule here in the summer, which is just as well, as it's a very popular stopping place; not one to turn up to at half six at night and still expect to find a space.

After a quick cup of coffee, we got out the day sacks and the camera and walked up into the village, through it and up to the Rock Houses at Holy Austin. To get there, you need to walk a good bit along the main street of the village to Stone Lane, up that hill until it becomes Compton Road, then on up again until you see the footpath sign for the houses.

They are quite remarkable; it seems that living in caves used to be a popular option in these parts – the sandstone was cool in summer and warm in winter. At the weekend, the National Trust opens them up so you can see around inside, but yesterday we had to confine ourselves to looking about outside.

We had a bit of difficulty finding the route up onto Kinver Edge itself; you have to follow the track from the Rock Houses to where there's a bit of fencing along the hillside, then turn left and follow that fence to a cross path where you can turn uphill again to the top.

It's an amazing view up there, though the trees have rather grown up on the steep scarp slope to the west, so you can't get such a good view across to the Severn as you can in winter.

Coming down we stopped in the village to shop, making a point going into the Butchery that I mentioned in Waterways World the other month to get some more pre-war sausages.

As we were being served, the butcher asked if we'd had them before. I explained that I'd written about them, and the reaction was very gratifying.

"It was you!" both the butcher and his sister exclaimed. "We've had all these people coming in asking for 'pre-war sausages like the ones in the magazine'. Thank you ever so much!"

Whereupon, they gave me a free pound of sausages. As I say, very gratifying.

Back at the boat we had lunch and settled to a quiet afternoon. This was shattered when a figure nattily attired in a canary yellow plush top and shorts asked if she could share our mooring ring. I was working on the computer, but Sheila popped out to say yes of course, when she realised that it was Jane Howarth, and that Will Chapman was tying Quidditch immediately behind us.

Naturally we invited them for dinner, and a merry evening ensued, gossiping and sharing bottles and boxes of wine.

This morning all was quiet with them, so we snuck off for the equally gorgeous run to Wolverley. Our cruising was punctuated by passing boats we know.

First Indigo Dream was safe and sound at Caunsall Bridge, then a bit further on we saw Fulbourne, the working boat shared by a bunch of wrgies. She was pointed in the same direction as us, i.e. away from Autherley, but I imagine she's on her way there for the National.

Just before Wolverley, Graham Booth's boat Rome was on her home mooring.

We've tied below Wolverley Lock for the night, and Slow Gin has not long arrived in front of us, coming up from the river. We last saw them at Hopwood, when they were going down the Worcester and Birmingham and we were coming up, so we've basically gone round in opposite directions to meet again.

They too are on their way to the National (Sheila and Jane are working together there) so we'll see them again shortly.

We've had another peaceful afternoon. The contrast with the BCN could hardly be greater: no need to worry about "Is this a safe mooring?" or to thrash along through rubbish filled mucky water waiting for the clunk of something on the prop.

Tomorrow we'll have a brief return to that sort of cruising when we go through Kidderminster, but then we'll be in Stourport for the night before turning round and coming back this way; it's like being a holiday boater again.