Windy Wedgwood and unexpected pleasures

As planned, we ate in the Toby Carvery last night. Possibly because it was a slow night, it was a touch disappointing. Service was fine, the Pedigree was in good nick, but the veg were very tired. They'd clearly been sat under the hot lamps too long.

Anyhow, it was perfectly edible and, of course, reasonably priced.

This morning, having seen the forecast for wind and rain later, we got away just after seven and an hour later were in the bottom lock of the Stoke flight. I steered briskly along the long pound, past the Dolphin yard transplanted from Louisiana, past the Waste Incinerator and the Britannium Stadium, through Trentham to the last lock of the day.

The wind did indeed rise as we went, so we moored on the Wedgwood visitor moorings just in time before it became impossible. No rain had arrived yet, so, having drunk a cup of coffee apiece, we walked into Barlaston to buy meat at the butchers.

It fairly tipped it down in the middle of the day and was just easing off when a sodden Peter and Melanie turned up on Inkling.

We kidnapped their dogs:

In due course, Peter and Melanie came to find them, drank a cup of tea with us and stayed for a right natter. We're each eating on our own boats then joining them on Inkling for a glass of wine and some intellectual exercise. Well, Rummikub, any way...