There's a definite pleasure in boating a familiar route. You know what to expect from the navigation but still look out for those minor changes that keep things interesting. It was my turn to steer so Sheila got to do the locks and chat to the gongoozlers at Fradley. She also took over at noon to let me get some lunch.
I was back in charge as we passed the Lichfield Cruising Club at Huddlesford Junction. As we approached our destination for the day, I fell into a reverie about the place:
"Whittington, a village whose seemingly serene surface masks a sinister seething underworld of hoodie-wearing silver surfers and gangs of baseball bat bearing grim grannies, quite capable of bombarding you with a cacophony of concerted campanology if they decide they don't like the way you're looking at them."
Of course, it's not like that at all, really - some of our best friends live here. I'm really beginning to worry about these drugs...
/blur
1 comment:
We were hijacked in Whittington once - release was the price of several cakes in aid of charity! Lovely to have you back cruising again, and the drugs might afford some novel perspectives!
All the very best
Sarah
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