Steadily to Fazeley

We were tied almost straight across from the Samuel Barlow pub last night, which seems to have changed its character a touch since we were last there two years ago. It was certainly trading quite well and there were sounds of Muzak from the upper floor all evening, together with much merry laughter from a party on the upper veranda. It wasn't impossibly noisy but we were quite glad when it all quietened down by midnight.

Apart from that, we had a peaceful night, despite the proximity of the West Coast Main Line, and woke refreshed in good time this morning. As a result, we were on our way rather before eight for the plod through Amington. It was a pleasant morning, though it clouded over as the day went on. The Glascote Two were against us but were in better condition than they've been on other occasions and Sheila had no problem turning the locks.

Once down, it's a steady run through to the junction, with very little traffic on the move despite it being the weekend. We got to the Sutton Road Bridge moorings by ten, to find that they were all but deserted. It's one of those stretches that is either empty or full of liveaboards, just depending on where the local boats have roosted for the time being.

We had an early coffee then set off to Sainsbury's armed with a mixed shopping list. For once, we made something of an impulse buy in addition. We've been thinking for some time of getting a second handheld blending wand. The Bamix I've used for many years is excellent but now lives in the lodge where it gets put to use in the winter in the production of stocks and soups, mostly. The big Sainsbury's here has a substantial home goods section including a variety of such appliances.

I settled on a Breville beast complete with a chopping bowl attachment. It's a 500 watt motor so should cope with anything up to and including ice cubes (not that I often have cause to produce crushed ice, but you never know). It does mean that any substantial use will be better with the engine running, since pulling over 40 amps from the batteries for any length of time is not a good idea.

It's turned very breezy indeed since lunch – we're glad not to have to move this afternoon. Tomorrow, we'll carry on along most of the remaining Coventry canal, probably finishing near the new Kings Orchard marina.

Location:Fazeley

It's Alvecote

Sheila was just saying that the stretch from the foot of Atherstone to the Fazeley side of Polesworth is quite hard work for the steerer and I know what she means. It keeps it interesting but it's quite serpentine (though not as bad as the South Oxford) with bridgeholes and narrows galore to keep you awake. In addition it was Saturday so after the first hour or so there was a bit of traffic.

Having worked down the last two locks, we stopped briefly on the service point to dump rubbish then carried on towards Polesworth. I made coffee and started a wash load as we went, in between doing look out.

We stopped briefly at the first Polesworth moorings to see if we could help the crew of Bobtail, whose engine wouldn't start. The electrics seemed to be completely dead despite a spare battery connected by jump leads and I couldn't see any obvious cause. In the end, I had to admit defeat. They passed us whilst we were moored here at Alvecote, so presumably they found a more competent source of help.

We've had a quiet time here since arriving with not a lot to write about, frankly. I brought the BOG Pub Guide up to date and Sheila has progressed my guernsey a bit further, otherwise it's been the usual reading and puzzling activities.

Tomorrow, on down Glascote and to our preferred Fazeley mooring at Sutton Road Bridge. We'll need to get there before lunch as we've run out of bread, pretty well. A Sainsbury's shop should see us right, the last supermarket shop we'll do before getting back to Mercia.

Speaking of Mercia, Rampant Rhubarb passed us some time after we'd tied. She's a Mercia boat that's been to Debdale for blacking (they do fancy kinds of blacking at Debdale). One of her owners has been taken ill, however, so the Mercia folks have arranged relays of people to bring her back to the marina; the plan is to do the whole trip in five days, which is some serious boating.

Location:Alvecote

Onward

The towpath in Hopwas is well used by the local populace and we had to clear it of some doggy doo yesterday to avoid the risk of treading it into the boat. But it's good to see the waterway giving pleasure to others beside us boaters. It was a quiet night and an early start this morning. I don't turn on the 3 phone to provide internet access in these circumstances, so that we're not tempted to loaf too long abed.

Instead, I put Radio 4 on, even though that meant listening to that strange programme Something Understood which today, however, was about humour so had a few entertaining clips at least. It was followed by that excellent presenter Cas Graham interviewing a tweeting shepherd in Cumbria, would you believe.

Off we went just after seven, chugging through the village and on to Fazeley. There was a boat on the service wharf when we got there, but they were happy for us to breast up alongside them to get rid of our rubbish and recycling. They followed us to the foot of Glascote and on through Amington, Alvecote and Polesworth. We crossed with one boat in the locks and had to idle past many others on the towpath after Alvecote, all spread out as they were.

No reason why they shouldn't be, of course, but a shame as the water is quite deep along there and it is otherwise a chance to wind the engine up a bit. This stretch is always a bit of a problem for me with earworms, as I suspect I've mentioned before. First there's Nellie on the offside in Amington, so that my mind is full of Nellie the Elephant for a bit, with its association for me of CPR training as it's one of the tunes that gives you the right rhythm for chest compressions.

That's then replaced by Gary Puckett and the Union Gap when we pass Will Power in Polesworth.

After lunch, I lifted the engine boards to check the state of water and oil in the engine (both fine) and to measure the individual voltages of the batteries in the domestic bank. It's not really practical to do this thoroughly on the towpath as you should really disconnect the lot for half an hour, but I isolated each in turn and found that they all had the same voltage, making it very unlikely that any of them have a seriously failing cell.

Maintenance duty done, I've been loafing for the rest of the afternoon with a clear conscience. Tomorrow, up Atherstone, stopping half way up to do some fresh food shopping at Aldi, then on towards Hartshill. It looks as if the brief spell of fine weather isn't going to last, sadly, with a return of rain and wind later in the week, but we can always hope that that will have changed by the time we get there...

A stowaway

We had a surprise this morning in the form of a stowaway perching on one of the porthole doilies:

It's hard to see against the light coming through the porthole, but it's a wren. He must have been in the boat all night, having snuck in sometime yesterday when the bow doors and Houdinis were wide open.

After Sheila had taken the photo, I opened the bow doors and side hatches and gently encouraged him to fly away, which he did with some reluctance. Where he was hiding all yesterday evening and night, goodness knows, but wrens are famously inconspicuous. They are one of the commonest but least seen of our wild birds.

It was a short trip today, just 90 minutes to Alvecote where we plan to eat at the Samuel Barlow tonight. The mooring is much less peaceful than last night's, what with the trains whistling along nearby and the woofing from a pair of GSDs on the pair of boats tied opposite, but we hope that the food and beer will make it all worthwhile.

:P

Longish day but a good one

Setting off at eight, we made good time to the top of Atherstone, arriving 40 minutes later. The Volockies had set it for us, but left us to carry on down a bad road to below lock five where we tied to shop as usual.

This didn't take very long and after a quick cup of coffee off we went again. The Volockies had caught us up by now and gave us a very welcome hand to below nine. By now it was lunchtime, so I grabbed something to eat whilst Sheila steered, then swapped over.

We're just a shade short of meals to get us all the way home. Sheila has had to do the hard work on the locks as the wretched drugs make me feel exhausted after doing just one. She deserves a meal out, so we've come all the way on to Alvecote, latterly in light rain, the cunning plan being to eat in the Samuel Barlow tonight.

A bit of a pig out before Tamworth

We had another great meal at the Samuel Barlow last night; Sheila scoffed two chicken breasts stuffed with Brie whilst I had the slow roasted blade of beef on a horseradish mash that fairly opened up your sinuses. We reckoned we'd earned it having done another hour's geocaching that afternoon, including a walk up the spoil heap mound in the Pooley Hall wildlife sanctuary.

Today was another fairly relaxed start, getting going just on eight for the chug through Amington to the Glascote Two. The first boat of the day was rising in the top lock as we arrived, so good timing there. As we came out at the bottom another boat appeared in the bridge hole, so it could hardly have been better.

Glascote still needs a bit of attention, though, despite the sterling work done last time we were there. The bottom gates of the bottom lock leak so badly that the lock was three foot down in just the time it took for the upward boat to get up the top lock and us to lock down, maybe 15 minutes in all. As a result, the intermediate pound must get very low at times.

We had to wait on the towpath opposite Peel's Wharf for another boat to top up its water tank, then pushed across and filled up ourselves. It's very good pressure indeed there; we had less than half a tank left and wanted to get brimful so as not to have to take on too much at Fradley, where the water pressure is a strong encouragement to study Zen Buddhism.

I reckon we took around 400 litres in maybe 20 minutes.

A gentle plod round to the moorings at Sutton Road Bridge took another 15 minutes, maybe. There were three boats here when we arrived but they've all left since. We've indulged in some retail therapy, mostly in Sainsbury's with a side trip to TKMaxx and now look forward to another gentle amble tomorrow to Whittington. The weather was cool and cloudy all morning, but seems to be picking up now; long may it continue.

Pleasant day, strange boat name

It's been much cooler today, but we're promised a resumption of summer tomorrow. Sheila steered down the last two locks and along the windy (both senses) pound to Polesworth, where we stopped to get you know what, and then on to Alvecote. No problem getting a mooring on the towpath here. Just as we were relaxing before lunch, who should turn up but Stephen and Jayne on Dolce Far Niente.

We went on board for a natter and a small(ish) libation. Good catching up all round before we separated to get our lunches. They've pressed on towards Atherstone as they're heading for London.

It's been a bit of a day for odd boat names. As we came through Polesworth where Will Power used to moor, thus giving me an earworm for the Gary Puckett and the Union Gap number ("Lady Will Power, it's now or, never to give your love to me…") who should come the other way, right by that mooring, but Young Girl ("Young Girl, get out my mind, my love for you is way out of line, better run girl, you're much too young girl…")

All ruddy day.

/floor

Before that, we'd crossed with Sally Slap Cabbage would you believe. I'd never heard this term before, but Googling revealed that it's gone from a Lincs dialect term for an untidy woman, through being a story book character intended to empower small girls in a Developmental Psych study of gender stereotyping in pre-schoolers to an Urban Slang word for "A female who is clinically retarded in every sense of the word. Has to wear a helmet anywhere she goes."

Isn't language a strange thing?

Tonight, food in the Sammy Barlow, yesss...

Entertainment last night and a soggy day's boating

As I expected, we had a very good meal at the Samuel Barlow last night, as well as entertainment. This takes a number of forms in that pub: first off there are always a few dogs about, last night including one of those cheeky terriers that comes and stares at you. It looked mostly like a Dandy Dinmont and clearly had a very high opinion of itself.

Next comes the chat from the bar staff who are both friendly and helpful and finally there's always your interview with the chef patron, who seems to have dedicated himself to supporting the popular image of Aussies everywhere.

It was after we'd scoffed our grub (slow roast breast of lamb for Sheila, smoked haddock and cheese fishcake for me) that he emerged from the kitchen for a natter. In the course of this he vouchsafed that:

• They don't serve starters because "this is a pub, not a bloody restaurant"
• He plays golf on a Monday, so they don't open that day, except for Bank Holidays.
• After golf, he goes and gets drunk, so "to be on the safe side, we don't open until four on a Tuesday"
• They don't serve sandwiches, "Because I can't be bothered" (actually he didn't say bothered, but this isn't an 18 rated blog)
• "I go to Portugal to play golf in January, so we don't open at all"
• The dog menu of two kinds of meat is available every day, free, though donations to the RSPCA are encouraged
• Each September (the 14th this year) they make an attempt on the Guinness Book of Records for the most pub meals served to dogs in one day. Last year they served 151 dogs, who each had a meal of roast beef and Yorkshire Pudding.

We got there at six last night and only just got a table – in future we'll book by ringing 01827 898 175.

Despite all that, we still got up at six this morning and were boating by quarter past, using our usual routine of Sheila starting off and me relieving her after I've eaten. The weather wasn't too bad at first, but deteriorated as soon as I'd taken the helm, so that it was really quite unpleasant on the approach to Atherstone, wet and windy.

After that it picked up a bit again. We passed the flotilla of four boats from Strawberry Island Boat Club who'd tied between locks ten and nine. They set off to chase us up the flight, but we soon got ahead and didn't see them again until after we'd tied for the day.

All the locks were with us, so it was just on ten as we cleared the flight. I nipped off to get a paper from the local shop as Sanity Again rose in the top lock, leaving Sheila and the volunteer locky to see her through.

The moorings at Hartshill were deserted, the first time I've ever seen that, I reckon, and we've come on just a bit further to the Anchor, by which time I was feeling cold and weary.

The Squirrel's blazing away now and the sun is managing to peep through; there's some hope of a pleasant day tomorrow, though still quite cool.

Early start, late finish

I'd forgotten when I posted yesterday that there was a half day stoppage at Glascote Locks this morning, firstly to do a water flow meter calibration and then to unblock a paddle culvert.

Nonetheless we set off at half seven as planned and motored round to Peel's Wharf where we filled the water tank. I left Sheila overseeing that whilst I nipped round to post some letters and buy a paper in the middle of the village, if that's the right word for Fazeley.

Tank full(ish), Sheila steered round the junction and down to Fazeley Mill. It was the usual hassle getting reversed onto the service wharf but we made it eventually, just ten minutes or so before they were due to open at nine. The cut is not well dredged on the offside so the bow tends to swing away when you go into reverse instead of carrying on turning.

Jackie showed up almost as soon as we were tied and gave us a good pumping out for £15.50.

Back then to the junction we went and on to the foot of Glascote where we were number six in a queue which eventually had a dozen boats in it. CRT were hard at work; the intermediate pound was drained and the bottom lock nearly so.

We had a look at the sights then went back to the boat, made a cup of coffee and put the chairs out on the towpath. Sadly the weather deteriorated quite quickly and by the time we'd finished the coffee we had to retreat in doors.

Some pottering on the net and an early lunch helped to pass the time and by one o'clock there were signs that the job was nearly done. By half one the queue was moving steadily onwards and upwards. As usual, some of us went up to the locks and helped the boats in front of us get going, whilst others waited until their boat was next to move.

At twenty to three we were clear of the top lock and chugging through Amington in drizzly rain. About fifty minutes later we arrived at Alvecote and found a mooring on the towpath before the Narrowcraft yard. I think I'll need to light the stove soon as the damp makes it feel a bit clammy inside the boat.

Never mind, I'm sure we'll have a warm welcome in the Samuel Barlow…

/wahaha

Yesterday over again

No, not like Groundhog Day, but another excellent pub last night and a much better day's boating today than we'd been expecting. The Samuel Barlow is definitely not a chain pub; indeed it almost qualifies a gastropub in the best sense of the term. The decor is unusual, comprising white painted wooden tables of rugged construction and varying heights, set out in somewhat regimented fashion in a single, rather barn like room. Dogs are very welcome both inside and out.

The chef/patron, Paul, is a manic Aussie who comes and explains the short but interesting menu to you at your table. Sheila had the fillet of chicken poached in white wine with mushrooms and served on a bed of rice and covered in white sauce. I was in veggie mood, and from a choice of three chose the feta and spinach pie, which came with a mould of other veg and served on creamy mash. I could have had mushroom stroganoff or roasted veg lasagne.

Fish eaters could choose from seafood pie or trad fish and chips served in newspaper. There are no starters, and desserts were limited to a choice of four cakes. We both had the carrot cake, an indulgence too far, frankly, but that wasn't the fault of the cake, which was not smothered in butter cream for once, and had a good spicy bite with prominent cinnamon.

Today, we staggered up at half six and set off. The forecast was for rain, but it's not really tried very hard. It was misty murky first thing, and it's been a touch showery just now, but we've had some good sunny intervals in between. We'd planned to stop in Whittington, but were enjoying ourselves so much that we've come on to Fradley.

Sheila was sceptical about finding a mooring here, but in the event didn't need the windlass she insisted on sticking in her belt in case we ended up working up the locks and heading for Handsacre. Indeed, all along the Coventry the 48 hour moorings have had spaces, even at Hopwas and Fazeley, previously sites solid with lurkers.

We plan to eat in the Swan tonight; OK, so at the last enviro inspection it got no stars out of five, but a recent visit by Stephen and Jayne gave it a good report; Environmental Health will have had it in special measures since that rating, and as it hasn't been closed down, it has hopefully got itself sorted out.

More on this tomorrow, probably from Wolseley Bridge.

An excellent pub, and a good day's boating

Last night's meal in the Anchor at Hartshill was the best yet. Both for atmosphere and quality of cooking, it came top of the list. Furthermore, we had no trouble with lads on the towpath, although just one pair went sauntering past in the early evening, flicking something at the boat.

Today we were up even earlier than usual for our flying start. Although still cloudy, the weather was much milder with no sign of the fog that made yesterday tedious. By eight we were into the Atherstone flight. We crossed with a boat below lock 2; they'd spent the night on the long pound between five and six, so we had a clear run down that far. After that it was a mixed picture. There had been nobody down since the boat we passed had come up, but a couple of the locks had drained down overnight.

Nonetheless, we made it to the bottom before ten, so averaged about ten minutes a lock. I'm very fond of the Atherstone flight; although the locks can be frustratingly slow to fill, it's a great mixture of urban surrounding at first, becoming more and more rural as you go down.

Below the locks, we shared the steering to Alvecote, where we've stopped for the night. We plan to eat in the Samuel Barlow tonight; we'd been doing this pub an injustice, assuming that it was a chain pub, but a satisfied customer of Sheila's, Stephen Ayres, has just been over for natter. He tells us that it's another genuine home cooked food place, and very popular, so I'll report back on that tomorrow.

Streaming weather and other things

10th & 11th April

So I was going to do a post on the Building Sanity Again blog about engines yesterday, I really was. By five o'clock, I'd got as far as sitting down in front of the keyboard, creating the document and writing the first sentence.

I then sat there in front of it, fourth hanky of the day pressed to my streaming nose, and tried to think of what I wanted to say in the second sentence. The problem was, I wasn't capable of coherent thought about what to have for dinner, much less everything I want to say about motive power in narrowboats.

Until yesterday, I'd thought I was getting away quite lightly with this cold. A fair amount of Co-op Mixture for Tickly Coughs was being consumed, but since the stuff tastes like liquid Victory Vs, to which I once had a brief addiction, that wasn't a real hardship.

Then my nose apparently managed to take in a documentary about the Victoria Falls (National Geographic Channel, I expect), without the rest of me noticing, and decided to let us have an impression of how stunningly dramatic the Smoke That Thunders is by doing it's very own interpretation of it.

I was seriously worried about the risk of dehydration by bedtime last night, but it seems to have come under control as today went on.

Apart from that, we've had a good couple of days. We made a prompt start yesterday, and spent the first 45 minutes going up to the winding hole at Bridge 28, winding with some difficulty (it's very shallow), and coming back past the Hartshill moorings. It rained on and off, and I was glad I'd put the full wet weather gear on.

At Atherstone, we tied immediately below Lock 5, had a coffee, went shopping, then carried on down the flight to tie just above Lock 8. There were a couple of kids on bikes offering to huffle for us, but when I explained that we were only going down two more locks, they decided to help a boat going up hill instead.

(Huffling: offering to help with lock working in the expectation of a small reward. Normally innocuous, but can sometimes become threatening. These ones seemed OK to me. Unlike the story about the bloke parking his Jaguar in Liverpool:

Bunch of kids wanders up: "Look after yer car for a fiver, mister?'

"No thanks, it's all right, I'm leaving my German Shepherd in there, look."

"Oh yeah, good at putting out fires , is he?")

There was a lot of holiday traffic, even though the weather began to deteriorate seriously, until it was raining nearly as hard outside as it was down my nasal passages.

After lunch we had some difficulty in getting a good internet connection, until I rigged the modem in the porthole on the other side of the study, after which it was fine.

I spent some time exploring the Mobil Read forum, which is an excellent source of advice about eReaders and of lists of ebook sites.

Towards the end of the afternoon, we had an email from Peter Mason with the initial quote for building Sanity Again. We read through it, looked at each other silently, and went and sat down quietly for a bit, until our pulses had settled down. It's not a lot more than our worst case expectations, but we're going to have to think hard about which extras we want.

Situation normal, then for this stage of play. The problem for Peter (and so for us) is that, although the price of steel has fallen back a lot in the recession, so that the shell is cheaper than it would have been a year ago, many of the fittings, like the electrical stuff and the heating systems, are priced in euros originally, and as the pound is now close to parity with the euro, the price to us has gone up.

We'll find our way round and through it, but I'm glad that last night was one of the ones on which we allow ourselves a drink...

Today, weather much better, cold getting better, though I'm feeling pretty feeble (and my sense of humour seems to have suffered), and we did some more good boating, ending up between Polesworth and Alvecote near the country park that's been made out of the post industrial wasteland around here.

We cut up a load of bits of wood from the roof, and, on the internet, explored the possibility of a twin tub rather than a fully automatic washing machine. Main difficulty is the extra width – more of this on the other blog in due course. I'll do the engine post since I've started thinking about that, then possibly do a catch up with the way our thinking has changed since I started posting over there.

Tomorrow, we go back through Fazeley, then plan to tie on the Birmingham and Fazeley near Drayton Manor, as Elanor is joining us for the night, and there's a bit of roadside parking there.

Two days blogger spotting

6th & 7th April

Yesterday morning was cool, but still sunny. The building site had started work at eight, so I didn't fancy the old route past the Simpson's warehouse, which involved cutting across the corner of the working site. Instead, I went onto the road at Sutton Road Bridge, walked down it to the entrance to the Jolly Sailor retail park, and so to Sainsbury's to get a paper and a loaf of bread.

I don't think it was any longer than our previous route, and had the advantage that it didn't involve a close encounter with the hedge, quite apart from dodging amorous earth moving equipment.

We then headed out, firstly for a call at the services point at Peel's Wharf, then to Fazeley Mill Marina for pump out and diesel. There was a boat on the water point at Peel's, so we stopped on the other side of the entrance to the little basin. I got off, carrying our bags of recycling, but was accosted by a woman whose aim in life seemed to be to prove that Norah Batty figures are not confined to Yorkshire. She didn't actually hit me with her broom shouting "Get off me step!", but informed me in no uncertain terms that this was private land, and that I couldn't get through to the BW office and service area.

Right enough, there's a substantial gate in the way, so I retreated to Sanity (and folk wonder why we named our boat what we did). By now, the other boat was finishing up, so we do-si-do'ed with them and unloaded our rubbish. I note that the Elsan point there now says "No self pump out". I'd always thought it was a marginal case, and now we know.

At Fazeley Mill we had our usual long natter with Corinne about boating, Purple Salute and the joys of having relatives in the Armed Forces (Graeme's on deployment at the moment).

Having got Sanity all filled up and ready to go, we headed back to the junction and turned right. We've decided to use the extra week we need to fill in before going to Norton Canes by taking a run up to Hartshill. The official excuse is that we can't find the right size watering can for Sheila to use on the flower pots, so we'll visit Dobbies Garden World at Hartshill to look for one.

We had a good run to Alvecote. Some kids turned up as we approached Glascote, but were extremely helpful both to us and the boat which followed us up the locks. On the way through Amington, we crossed with Gypsy Rover, then, just outside, who should heave into view but Andrew Denny on Granny Buttons.

There was only time for shouted greetings in both cases, but it's always good to see fellow bloggers out and about.

Today we had a relaxed start. It had rained hard overnight, but was now a bright if rather breezy morning. We made a water point stop at the foot of Atherstone, then as usual worked up the first six locks to tie between numbers six and five. It was perfect conditions for this lovely flight: sunny, just a bit of breeze, cumulus clouds drifting about against the cerulean arch above.

After we'd tied, I nipped off to the Co-op for a paper and some onions, and when I came back, there was Sheila chatting up some bloke on the towpath.

Typical, thought I, can't leave her alone for quarter of an hour without she's off. It turned out to be Andy off Khayamanzi, so this has been a couple of days of blogger spotting. He couldn't stop long, but it made another face to put to a blog.

After lunch we had another go at finding the elusive Twining's Micro cache. Between less cover in the absence of leaves on the trees, and my improving skill with the GPS, we went straight to it this time.

Very satisfying to locate one that's been eluding you.

Back at the boat we had a quiet afternoon, reading and doing internet stuff. We've downloaded a few more books from Project Gutenberg, some familiar, others just names we know. The great thing about doing your reading this way is that you can experiment with authors. All you risk is wasting a few minutes download and transfer time.

I've had a go at reading The Last of the Mohicans, for example, but Fennimore Cooper's prose is just too convoluted and flowery for me, so I've abandoned it in favour of one by Josephine Tey, an author I'd never come across until we started reading ebooks. Her style is very similar to Dorothy L Sayers, or the detective novels of Georgette Heyer.

Tomorrow we'll do the last five locks in the Atherstone flight, and toddle on to Hartshill for the night.

Back to Fazeley for pre-Chistmas shopping

17th & 18th December

We had a relaxed start yesterday after our busy day the day before. I went to the post office first thing to post a couple of parcels containing Christmas presents, then we set off down the locks in glorious sunny weather, fresh and frosty with a blue sky, making the most of one of our favourite lock flights.

At lock 7, a nice lady popped out of the house alongside to thank me for this blog, which had explained to her why the garage was flooded when they got home after a weekend away. Apparently, blocked culverts are a bit of a feature of life around the Atherstone flight; it's obviously not just the ground paddle culverts which were designed too small.

It's always a big buzz to meet someone who reads my ramblings, especially when they've been of some use!

We'd been running a sock load in the washing machine as we worked down, and by the time we got to the bottom they were all done. This meant that whilst filling the tank at the water point, we could start a towel load on the go as well. Then it was off again to Alvecote; we kept going with the aid of mugs of soup, and had lunch as soon as we got there.

It had been a brilliant days boating, with not another boat seen on the move all day. It's times like this that make us so glad to follow the lifestyle we do.

We had another busy afternoon, printing off copies of the family calendar and preparing them for posting today. I also got Sheila to give me a hair and beard trim, so that I shall look quite presentable over Christmas.

Today we set off in fine style, and soon reached the two mile stretch of suburbia that is the canal through Amington. This is another bit that's been tidied up a lot; time was when we could rely on getting a good supply of firewood in the course of a cruise through here, but on this occasion nothing presented itself until we started down Glascote locks, which did, however, yield a couple of bits of useful looking stuff.

We went straight round to Fazeley Mill to pump out and diesel up. They wouldn't let me make up the undercharge from last time, so I donated the cash to the Purple Salute charity, which is the brainchild of Corinne at the yard. Since we have a serving soldier for a son, it's not hard to persuade us to support such an organization.

After tearing ourselves away, we popped back up the canal to moor just before the junction. I took some calendars to the post office, then we had lunch before carrying on to the Sutton Road Bridge mooring. Things seem to be happening on the wasteland that adjoins this bit of the cut. There's some serious earthmoving going on, so presumably it's going to be developed in some way.

We've had a good trip to the shops to finish the pressie shopping; we plan to stay here tomorrow, especially as the forecast's not that good, and stock up on food and stuff, then plod on towards Fradley on Saturday.

Happily boating to Atherstone

5th & 6th December

We'd meant to make a prompt start yesterday, but managed to sleep in a bit. Nonetheless, we still carried out the full plan, shopping at Sainsbury's before boating round to Peel's Wharf to top up the water tank, dump rubbish and recycling, and check with the BW office that the Atherstone stoppage would be finishing as planned.

The pleasant woman on the front desk was able to tell me immediately that it would be done by close of play, and so the flight would reopen to navigation today. I later learnt (from Brian Jarrett on Kyle) that in fact it had been a close run thing.

Seemingly, they'd finished the work on Lock 8, rewatered the lock and removed the stop planks, then discovered that the new bottom gates wouldn't seal shut. The lock was dewatered again, and it turned out that the heel post for one of the gates wasn't sitting in its cup. It's a wonder that it hadn't fallen over. Presumably, it had to be lifted and reset, which explains why they only just got the job done in time, despite having had pretty good weather for the month they were working on the flight.

Be that as it may, we set off to visit Fazeley Mill to diesel and pump out. It was my turn to steer, and as I pottered along the bit of the Coventry leading to the junction, I pondered the chances of getting neatly into the marina.

The danger with crossing your bridges before you come to them is not just the unnecessary stress, but the fact that you may fall into the minor stream to be negotiated first. In this case, I suddenly realised that firstly, I was approaching the junction too quickly, and secondly, I had the low winter sun smack in my eyes.

Sheila in the bow started giving me her best alarmed look, and then raised her hands over her head, stretched them out and started closing them together in our signal for "The bow is about to hit the bank".

Much reversing and muttering didn't succeed in avoiding this outcome altogether, to the amusement of the gongoozlers, one in a push chair, busily engaged in feeding the ducks.

Thirty-three years of practice, and you can still make a complete dork of yourself at any moment steering a narrowboat.

It probably doesn't need saying, but my entrance backwards into the marina was perfectly creditable. Fazeley Mill are currently selling diesel at 62/105 ppl (domestic/propulsion) and have a very straightforward procedure for charging for it on your declared split. I've duly advised Sue of No Problem via her own blog, so she can update her diesel splits page.

We bought another four bags of coal, so with full water and diesel tanks, an empty toilet tank and bags of coal both on the roof and in the well deck, we were quintessentially happy liveaboard boaters.

Naturally, after my shake up in reproof for over confidence coming through the junction one way, I had no trouble making the turn back onto the Coventry, and we boated gently up the Glascote Two, stopping at the top to eat lunch. Then off we went again, just as far as Alvecote for the night.

Alvecote marina used to be heaving with around fifty Canaltime boats to look after, but since ABC (aka Alvechurch) took over the management of that fleet, they've all gone, which must have been a blow for the workforce.

This morning we set off in leisurely fashion, planning to get up the first half of the Atherstone flight before lunch. It was another glorious winter's day, clear and cold. There were a few boats around at the foot of the flight, and just as we were finishing we encountered the aforesaid Brian on Kyle, escaping after being trapped in Barry Hawkins's yard for a month by the stoppages either side.

On the way, I called Fazeley Mill; on checking the stuff in my wallet before putting the vouchers out for filing, I realised that they'd undercharged me. Of the 113 litres I'd bought, on a 20% declaration, 23 should be propulsion and 90 domestic. They'd charged me for the domestic fuel all right, but only for three litres of propulsion diesel.

They were quite prepared to write off the loss as having been their fault, but I want to be able to use them again, (and indeed be able to look myself in the face in the mirror) so I promised that we'd straighten it out next time we are in there, almost certainly in three weeks time or so on our way back north.

We've moored for the night between locks six and five, handy for the shops yet quite quiet. The forecast is for a hard frost again tonight, so we have to allow for the possibility that we'll be here for slightly longer than planned. Otherwise, it'll be off to Hartshill for tomorrow night, and Hawkesbury Junction/Sutton's Stop the night after.