A Soggy Blog

Phew... It’s been a rough few days weather-wise. Luckily, the worst of last weekend’s storm conditions hit us when we were moored up snugly in a small arm, off the Grand Union in Warwick, so we were not cruising.

Anyway, friends, family and followers, we soldier on and having studied the weather forecasts for the week ahead in some detail, we decided that our best chance of making good progress was to go for it last Thursday, so with the suburbs of Birmingham behind us, we set off early to tackle the Hatton Flight of 21 locks, that descend over two miles into Warwick.

We are now back in “wide lock” territory and I didn’t want to tackle this flight on our own particularly. Having gone up and down the Hatton flight  on one our “Big Chins*” weekends I knew how heavy the paddles were to raise and thought, if the worst came to the worst, we would do five locks each and change over. So, we hung around the top lock and waited for a boat to join us. We have not experienced a lot of traffic on this part of the canal system so we expected to wait an hour or two, but after 20 minutes or so, Alan and Geraldine chugged up in their new boat, and we went down with them. What a great day. The weather was... hot. Yes, friends, I was down to a T-shirt for the first time in over a month. With a third member of their crew setting the locks in advance we were down the flight in just over three hours. To finish the day off we went over to the Cape pub in Warwick and had a good scoff on a table overlooking the cut and a couple of pints of “Hooky”. (Note to self: must stop banging on about beer.)

Just about to pass two boats coming up through the Hatton Flight of 21 locks



Just to prove I don't stand on the back of the boat all of the time.



Pat has gone all “crafty” over the last few weeks and has been crocheting like mad to make a throw for our couch. It’s nearly finished and I hope to include some pix in this blog. Next she is going to make some seat covers for our bar stools. I must say the results are very impressive.

Pat's "Crochet Creation"

So we were in Warwick for four days and I can’t say that either of us were that taken with the place. Of course, its dominated by the Castle, which let’s face it, is now little more than a theme park and cost around £25 to get in. I have visited the castle before in my previous existence with John Lewis, when we were looking at ice rinks, so have been round the place, and would have gone again, but the first mate was not that keen. There are lots of independent shops in the town centre though, so Pat was able to get some more wool for her creation.

The mooring was run by a trust and included electric hook up. What a luxury. The water point was about 3 metres away and we were able to dispose of our rubbish, and empty our loo there as well. So it was bliss. Opposite us were moored two hotel boats, that decamped a load of North Americans for a few days to take in the delights of Warwick and Stratford-On-Avon, which is close by. I checked their prices out on the internet and for a week it’s around £750 each. We could do it for half that price! 

Our hotel boat neighbours at Sandsiford in Warwick

Early morning breakfast visitor

The place also had a laundry which has been a real boon as our washing machine will only work on shore power. The boys at Kingfisher are working on the issue with Zanussi.

On Monday we cruised for a couple of hours into Leamington Spa, or should I say Royal Leamington Spa. I had great hopes for Leamington and was not disappointed. This is definitely a posh place with lots of manicured lawns, overflowing hanging baskets and grand arcades. The architecture is late Georgian and Victorian and the town centre has not the makeovers so often suffered by other towns and retains its “Spa” character.

The only thing that really annoyed me was the amount of “chuggers” about: those young twenty-something charity collectors who approach you in the street. They were everywhere.  

We have now completed over 400 miles and been through 250 locks. I will have to carry out our first oil change over the next week or so once I can source the correct oil filter and oil. Pat was keen to let an engineer do the work but I don’t think she realised the costs involved with labour and VAT. The engine, and more or less everything else, apart from the washing machine, is all working well, and we got 10 weeks from our last bottle of gas, which is somewhat better than the week I got out of the first one!

We reckon we will be in Banbury on the Oxford Canal sometime early next week.

*BIG CHINS (Boating Interest Group Chasing Herons In NarrowboatS

 (Roger, Roy, Malcolm, Paul B, Paul H, Mark W, Mark (the pig farmer), Barry )

Fun in Brum

Fun in Brum

(Double clicking on photos brings them up to real size)

It is estimated that over 20,000 people live on boats on the canal system.  So you can imagine our surprise last week when in the space of 48 hours, we met up with three boats and their crews that we knew. And this was even more remarkable, being in an area where if you pass one or two boats during the day, you are doing well.

First it was Mel and her husband Neil. I had met Mel at “The New Inn” in Shardlow on our very first time out with the boat back at the end of March. It was her last day working behind the bar there, and she had similar plans to us, cruising the network with her husband. We saw them at Dudley and then moored in Central Birmingham about 100 metres down from us. Opposite us was “Free Spirit”.  Ian and Eileen had been at Trent Lock over Easter, maintaining and blacking their boat, while I was waiting for Pat to return from New Zealand and we had kept in touch through our individual blogs. And a couple of boats down from them was “Jandai”, Kingfisher’s previous build before “The Cat’s Whiskers”. We knew Jan and Dai were south of the city, from their blog, but was surprised to bump into them in central Birmingham as well.

This called for a drink or two, and the picture shows us in “The Malt House”, at the very heart of the city network. Both couples are long-term live-aboards and teased us for being “fair weather” boaters, as we are not planning to over-winter on board TCW, at least not this year. But it was good to catch up with their news and see them both again.

Dai, Ian, Jan, Roger, Pat and Eileen in "The Malt House"



Our mooring under St Vincents Street Bridge. TCW is on the left



We had two days on a good, secure mooring and you really have to admire the way this bit of the network has been developed. Twenty years ago it was a rundown corridor that meandered through the city that nobody knew about. Now it’s a vibrant magnet drawing visitors to its bars and restaurants. Hotels and major visitor attractions complete the scene. It may not be everybody’s cup of tea, but it seems to work.

A bit over the top, but very popular with tourists

The weekend saw us entertaining Paul, brother of my best pal John. Pat spent the weekend calling Paul, “John”, but he didn’t seem to mind. Paul had grown up in Birmingham and knew the city centre pretty well but readily admitted that he had never ventured on to the canal system as it was a dirty, unwelcoming place, and best avoided.

It certainly is an area of contrasts. Sure, there is plenty of evidence of Birmingham’s claim to be the “the countries engine room”, but turn a corner and suddenly you have a pastoral parkland with weeping willows and quacking ducks and then round another corner you are back to the rusty wharves, run-down industrial units and walls of graffiti.

Paul got “The Full Monty”. Dead animals, jammed gates; dead animals in jammed gates, and hand hauling and freeing TCW on several occasions when she got grounded. And then there was the Olympic torch relay. We walked into the city centre from where we had moored in Digbeth on Saturday evening, about 2 miles from the city centre. Had a bit to eat in Wetherspoons and then caught the cavalcade as it came around Paradise circus. So it was a good weekend’s cruising, though not typical of what we have experienced up to now.

Paul and Pat

One of the weekend’s highlights for me was Pat’s decision to take on a flight of locks at the tiller. She has been rather reluctant to do this and was quite nervous but she had no problem at all. In fact she went into nearly all the lock chambers without touching the sides. I decided to walk on to set up the locks so she didn’t feel like I was watching her every move. Despite this new found skill she still prefers to be on lock duty, but it gives us some flexibility.

Pat at the tiller on the The Farmers Bridge locks in central Birmingham

Pat pilots TCW through the centre of Birmingham. PO Tower in background

We dropped Paul off at Olton to catch a train back into the city to make his connection home, and carried on to Catherine-de-Barnes, just outside Solihull, the first official mooring we had seen since leaving the Gas Street area on Saturday morning.

Regular readers to this blog may have noticed I haven’t mentioned the weather yet. Several have commented that I am a bit obsessed about it. Amazingly it’s been OK. When the flash floods happened last Friday morning, we were chugging out of Dudley. The water cascaded in torrents over the motorway that we were travelling beside, but we just cruised through it under a golf umbrella and waterproofs. It’s been dry since, though it did rain all day Monday and most of Tuesday, but we had already decided to stay put in the Solihull area to do our laundry, and do some shopping in John Lewis.

On Wednesday we cruise on to Knowle and then down the Hatton flight to Warwick where I guess we will be over the weekend. I’ve experienced this bit of the network before with the “Big Chins” boating crew two Octobers ago, so if any Big Chins fancy braving the showers and joining us, you know how to contact us.

Wolverhampton "Wanderers"

(If you double click on any of the pictures it brings up to a decent size)

Sunday morning we returned to urban cruising after almost two weeks of weeping willows, quacking ducks, and grazing sheep and cows, interspersed with little market towns and villages with canalside inns. In fact I got to see my first kingfisher on Saturday, sitting bold as you like on a branch sticking out of the water.

A pastoral view of the Shropshire Union, south of Market Drayton

We hung around a bit at the southern end of the Shropshire Union waiting for the weather to pick up before we made our move into the Black Country. And it needs a bit of planning.  It’s a climb of 21 locks, over about 2 miles, into Wolverhampton city centre and those locks come thick and fast. Pat had to work hard and it was our biggest flight yet. It was also a cold, damp journey but four hours later we get to the top lock after only passing two other boats the whole morning. That’s where we stopped for the night, right in Wolverhampton city centre on our own. Not used to that.

However, even in large, busy  conurbations such as Wolverhampton and Dudley life on the waterways is generally fairly peaceful and tranquil. I guess that’s the attraction for most people. Indeed, after a while, one tends to get excited by the smallest things – a duck walking over the roof first thing in the morning or the swooping of swallows as the sun goes down, so when we returned to The Cat’s Whiskers after a trip to the local Spar in the village of Wheaton Aston, to find an ambulance at the top of the slope and several professional, rescue-types with their day-glow patches, hanging around our boat, we were both bemused and puzzled.

It transpired that the chap on the boat next to us, David, had a dodgy ticker, thought he was having a heart attack and had rung for assistance.

He was alone on his boat, except for his Labradoodle Ruby, who he was reluctant to leave, and the emergency services were deciding what to do with the dog when we turned up. Now Wheaton Aston is not the sort of place we had planned to spend any time in, but needs must, so we agreed to look after her until he was checked out. The poor old dog then spent all day gazing down the towpath, waiting for her master to return as we tried to reassure her.

Pat comforts "Ruby" as she awaits the return of her master

Two things became very apparent as this incident unfolded. One was how quickly the emergency services managed to get to the towpath to give assistance, which is reassuring to know, and the other was how quickly all the boats moored along the towpath came together to offer help. David returned to the boat early evening and the following morning we left in different directions but while he was away several boaters dropped by offering assistance of all sorts.

After Wolverhampton we then pushed on to Dudley. There is a lot of weeded up sections right through the Birmingham Canal Navigation, and we got most of it round our propeller. It was a problem everybody was facing, and we have revised our itinerary into Birmingham tomorrow to by-pass the worst of it.

When I was organising leisure events at John Lewis, the Black Country Museum at Dudley was often on the must-do list and never happened, so I was determined to spend a day there, at least, as we could moor alongside the site and we were not disappointed.

It is a very impressive place, and I am glad we went. Nearly every shop, house or place of interest, had a guide there to talk to you about the buildings history and all the premises came from a five-mile radius of the museum, often taken down brick by brick, numbered and then re-assembled on-site. We were also surprised to see probably the most famous narrowboat in the country, “President” was also in the basin there. Fresh from leading the narrowboat flotilla on the Queen’s Jubilee Pageant, it will haul the Olympic flame when it visits the museum later this week.

Roger can't make his mind about what will go with his Banks Sunbeam.
Pork Scratchings or a Pickled Egg!

This bridge once stood on the canal at Wolverhampton. Pub in background

The on-site pub, “The Cork and Bottle”, which used to be at Brierly Hill beside the canal,  sold Banks and Holden’s beers, so that was very Black Country, (no lager), and the fish and chips were some of the best we have ever had. Shame the prices were not in shillings and pence though. Both the drinks and food were expensive, but the trip down the mine was very interesting and it’s been around 45 years since I have been on a trolley bus.

Tomorrow morning we set off for the three-hour cruise into central Birmingham. The Olympic flame travels through the city late Saturday afternoon and my pal Paul is coming up for the weekend to give us a hand through the city’s locks and to teach us some “Brummagem”. If the event is anything like the one we saw in Wales on the Llangollen it looks to be a “full-on weekend in the nation’s second city. I am hopeful we can moor in or around Gas Street basin if possible though we have been warned it’s noisy.

South on the "Shroppie"

I tried to work out today how much rain has fallen on TCW since we took possession of her at the end of March. I reckon it’s enough to supply Manchester with drinking water for a week at least judging by the amount of water I am removing from the bilge on a regular basis.

We continue to get rained on most days and, as far as I know, there is no real respite coming our way soon, though to be fair yesterday (Monday) was warm and today is shaping up OK as well.

If I was taking a boating holiday and hiring a narrowboat this would well and truly give me the hump, but Pat and I are made of sterner stuff. Our friends and family seem more concerned about the elements beating down on us than we are. We just moor up if it buckets down and set off again when it passes over.

That being the case, we have chugged south from Chester in short bursts, two hours here, three hours there, as we made our way to pick up the paint and other boating supplies we had ordered at a chandlery in Barbridge, and it has been a pleasant journey. The Shropshire Union Canal is very tranquil and very straight in places. I read that in its heyday it was the motorway of its time. A huge difference to the meandering Llangollen Canal.

Breakfast on TCW

We have moored mainly in rural locations, but did enjoy our time mooring above Nantwich, which is rapidly becoming one of our favourite towns on the network. We are now in East Shropshire and entertained our pals David and Caroline in Audlem at the weekend. We met at “The Shroppie Fly”, a well-known boozer on this part of the network, adjacent to lock three of the flight, and I was, frankly disappointed with the pub - with both the beer and the atmosphere.

Dave outside "The Shroppie Fly"
(What's that sticking out of his trousers)

The canal at Audlem is dominated by the 15-lock flight that climbs relentlessly as you head south to Market Drayton. Then, just when you think that is it, there is another flight of five locks to negotiate as well.

Opposite The Shroppie Fly sat a soggy Rob Pointon, a young artist, who is spending a year travelling the UK canals and painting waterway scenes on his way round. We bumped into him at Wrenbury on the Llangollen and here he was again. Check out his journey and his work at www.yearoftheboat.blogspot.co.uk

Rob Pointon, paints by The Shroppie Fly

We had a pretty wet day on Saturday on the Audlem flight, but Dave and Caroline threw themselves into the task at hand and we made it into Market Drayton by late afternoon.

We liked Market Drayton so much we are still here and our mooring is charming. Our neighbours on the other bank are “Bill and Ben”, still doing their bit for the Jubilee celebrations. See picture.

Bill & Ben, our neighbours in Market Drayton

Also seen at “The Talbot”, a pub a bridge down from our mooring, is this sign, which I couldn’t resist taking a photo of. We had a drink there, but no sign of any ladies.

Sign at The Talbot"

I am having my eyes tested again while we are here. My right eye still aches when I am at the tiller and scanning the horizon, so it will be interesting to see if Specsavers agree with Boots in Chester. If so, I think I will need to order a new pair of specs and pick them up in Wolverhampton, when we get there in a week or so time.

Might have to check out the gingerbread connection here as well. Evidently, Market Drayton is where gingerbread was first made and our guidebooks tell us it’s a big thing in these parts, but I have seen little to suggest this.

so our next blog will be from the (BCN) Birmingham Canal Network as we should either be in Wolverhampton or those parts by then.

I have never cruised on the BCN, and am not sure what demands it will make on us. Pat seems a little nervous about us getting lost. There are so many turns, junctions and branches, and the claim that Birmingham has more miles of canal than Venice, looks very genuine to me. Looking at our guides there are more than enough locks to keep Pat’s arm muscles in peak condition, though.

I am sure we will have a “bosting” time. (Apologies to my pals from the West Midlands).

Toodaloo

June is Busting Out All Over

I turned on the radio yesterday. “June is Busting Out All Over” came washing over me from out of the speakers. I am not sure if the DJ on the local radio station was taking the piss or he was just a big fan of “Carousel”, but clearly he must be on a different planet than most around here.

At least we knew the inclement weather was coming. We have become obsessed with the weather reports and I have the BBC, Met Office and Google Weather reports for whatever region we are in, constantly at hand. When we heard about the storms and winds coming in from the Atlantic we made the decision to make a dash for Chester, if that is possible in a boat that averages 2mph. So we got to Chester a couple of days earlier than we had planned, but that’s fine with us. It’s one of our favourite cities. We moored right in the city centre, opposite The Mill Hotel, which we have stayed in on two occasions, once with the John Lewis crowd, so I know that a good room with a water view is well over £100 a night at this time of the year. So let it rain, I say. It cost us nothing to moor there.

Another plus is that we were less than five minutes to everything we, or perhaps I should say “I”, needed. KFC, Wilkinsons, Boots, WH Smiths and Wetherspoons and even a little Waitrose, so I have been able to get a JLP fix when I need it.

It hasn’t really stopped raining though. Saturday was, I believe rain free, but every day has been gray, and Pat had her gloves on over the weekend and I have had to wear waterproof leggings over my shorts, and I did finally put a pair of socks on for a day.

We stumbled upon “David”, Chester’s town crier on Friday. He “proclaims” daily in the centre of Chester, and when he saw us he promptly put Pat in the pillory for not spending any money or having any carrier bags on her person. I had to promise to rectify the situation, and her release was conditional on a spending spree. So Pat went for Gap  and Next – I am more of a Primark boy, when it comes to value for money, so it was more shorts and espadrilles for me.  

David, Chester's Town Crier, consigns Pat to the Pillory for not having any carrier bags on her person.

The following day we were walking the walls that surround the city centre and which go past Chester Racecourse, known as the Roodee. They were having a “Jubilee” meeting, so we hung around, selected a couple of horses that finished last and next to last, and watched the 3.10 race from the elevated splendour of the city walls.

Pat backs the next-to-last in the 3.10pm at Chester races

One of the outstanding things I like about the city is its pubs. Nearly everyone has something to offer, and a story to tell, and the beers I have tried have all been served at the correct temperature in very good condition. Best of all was The Brewery Tap, serving the “Spitting Feathers” range of beers, brewed in nearby Waverton.  The pub, a Grade II+ listed hall, played host it King Charles I, but all the pubs we have tried are full of good beer.

And a hello to Narrowboat "Lily Pad" and Ian and Carol if you are out there somewhere. They were moored behind us in Chester.

So now we are almost back at Nantwich. On the way up to Chester,we stopped and ordered a navigation light, some paint and some new fenders from a chandlery in Barbridge which will not ready until Thursday so we have had a leisurely cruise back and will be back at this junction later this afternoon (Wednesday). As soon as we drew our pins and headed down the cut it started raining and is now bucketing down. I have just returned from a pint of “Ash Blonde” at the Olde Barbridge Inn, opposite from where we are moored and the towpath has flooded in the time it has taken me to drink a couple of pints.

However, compared to the weather stories we are hearing about, especially in the south-east, we have had mainly settled weather and yesterday morning we were down to T-shirts for an hour or two. Pat is getting the hang of the tiller and I hope to get her to steer into a few of the wide locks this coming weekend when we welcome our pals Dave and Carolyn, coming up to join us from Gloucester. Dave was one of my snagging crew on our maiden voyage early in April, so is familiar with the boat and Carolyn has visited as well.

Toodalo folks

The (Cheshire) Cat's Whiskers purrs into Chester

After almost a fortnight of warm, dare I say, hot, sunny weather, its back again to leggings, waterproofs and the occasional fire, so it must be the Bank Holiday weekend.

I must say the Jubilee celebrations somewhat passed us by. I now accept the fact that we live in a parallel universe. This was brought home to me twice last week. We were queuing to go through some locks last Wednesday at Grindley Brook. It was a tranquil spot – quiet and leafy, with various birds tweeting and swallows swooping over the water. Looking up I noticed a Shell sign above the hedging. I thought I would walk through the little alleyway just down the cut and get a newspaper. What a surprise. I came out to horns blaring – cars roaring in and out and a general melee of noise and loud music. It was quite a contrast and, of course, it was the normal world that most people inhabit. The other was when we got on a bus to go into Wrexham. The bus chugged down the road at 15mph – Being more used to travelling everywhere at 2mph for weeks on end, we clung on tight. It was like being on a rollercoaster. Such is our life now. And we went in a car on Sunday. First time in nearly three months. Quite a treat, I can assure you.

Anyway, back to the Jubilee. We have been conscious of this coming up as all the shops have been full of flags and bunting and we kept saying we would get some for TCW, but when we finally got round to it, all the good stuff had gone and all that was left were paper plates. Not ideal to hang from the roof!

A lot of boaters have made the effort – some, a little too much, if you know what I mean. I just hope that a lot of it does not end up in the water wrapped around my propeller when it’s taken down this week.

We now have a garden on board TCW. Pat purchased a suitable receptacle last week and while we were in Elmsmere we visited a garden centre near the canal to buy some plants to put in it. It now sits on the roof obscuring my view of what’s approaching. Pride of place are some white pansies that are called “The Cat’s Whiskers”. We had to have some of them.

Look what the white ones are called

Pat waters her new garden

Despite the change in the weather I am still in shorts and slip ons. I haven’t seen a pair of socks in about three weeks now. This might surprise some readers and has certainly surprised Pat, as I would not normally entertain exposing my legs to the sun until it is at least 30 degrees in the shade, but I considered it time to “Go Native”.

Only one leg on show. I don't want to frighten you all.

On the wet day of the Jubilee weekend, I think it was the Sunday, we met up again with our pals Vic and Liz in Northwich.

We checked the local train time table and walked the mile or so to the little station at Wrenbury. The information board explained that if we wanted the next train to stop we had to flag it down. And it worked. Just like in “The Railway Children”, though I didn’t stand on the line waving Pat’s flannel petticoat like Bobby did in my all-time favourite film. Anyway, I’d never done that before – stopped a train by waving my hat! Pretty cool.

Vic had picked up two folding chairs Pat had ordered locally and she spent most of Monday afternoon in of them in the cratch area chatting to the boats that went by. She is delighted and as I exist to make her happy, I am delighted that we have more stuff cluttering up the boat!

Pat tucked up under the cratch cover on her new chairs

So, we are now on the Shropshire Union Canal and just arrived in Chester City Centre. We both thought the Llangollen was stunningly beautiful, but, quite frankly, I was relieved when we made the turn into the Shropshire Union. It’s just toooooo popular. Oh those queues at the locks.

We really like Chester.  It’s a city we know well, but you see a very different side of any town or city coming in by water. Really looking forward to a bit of civilization again – Wetherspoons etc, a phone and an internet signal. We might even be able to get more than four or five channels on the telly. The weather forecast is for rain and wind so if possible we will stay here until Sunday. So if you’ve never been to Chester we can confirm that we have no house guests this weekend. Give us a call.

Finally, we have just topped the 200-mile mark.

Wales, Ales and Olympic Flames

Our progress over the last seven days has seen us in Wales and then out of it, and then in again, such are the vagaries of the border round here. After spending a couple of days layed up in Whitchurch, we moved on again to Ellesmere, a little town of around 3,000 on the North Shropshire border.  We found a great spot on the little arm off the main canal and decided to spend a couple of days there. Why not. We aren’t in a race and there was a Tesco at the bottom of the arm - a huge plus for visiting boaters.

Last Friday evening I was taking it easy, replying to an E Mail from Suzie in Southampton, who is having a boat built by Kingfisher next year and she mentioned that Fred and Lisa were on the Llangollen. They are also having a boat built at Trent Lock, which will be finished in the autumn. I look out of the window, and there they were. How crazy is that. They had moored up by chance, gone to Tesco and walked past TCW. It was good to see them. They were hiring on the Llangollen and had stumbled upon us

But to backtrack, while we were in Whitchurch we went into Argos and purchased a shopping trolley, such the same as my mum and gran used to use, so we are now serious senior shoppers. I’m trying to persuade Pat to have a blue rinse! While in Argos we also got a couple of two-way radios. There are those on the canal system who frown at such technology, preferring a pre-arranged set of hand signals to stop, call you on and tell you a boat is coming up, but my eyesight is just not up to it anymore and I like a bit of technology, especially when I can say to Pat, “Roger, Roger”.
By the way, if you want to look at any of the pix below, just double click on them.

Searching for what was causing the tiller to wobble.
A pair of pyjama bottoms wrapped around the prop.

Pat models our new Shopping Trolley

From Ellesmere we meandered down to Chirk and then early Sunday morning we went over the Chirk aquaduct, through the tunnel and then over the famous Pontcysylte Aqueduct. I don’t know how many articles I have read about this wonder of the waterways, but to me it was quite a surreal experience , floating in a long bath tub up in the clouds. I kept very much over to the towpath side though. I had no desire or inclination to look over the edge at the sheer drop of 200 feet into the Dee Valley. Pat walked across and took a few pictures of me emerging on the other side at Trevor basin.

The Cat's Whiskers makes it across. Phewwww.

tcy



Floating 200ft above the Dee Valley



Then we had the crawl through the narrows to Llangollen and the crazies were out in droves. Most of the day boats coming out of Llangollen were laden down with alcohol and revellers taking advantage of the fantastic weather, but they treated the event more like being at a fair, using these craft as bumper cars rather than boats, and thought nothing about careering into anything moored or moving and laughing it off. One chap went between me and a moored boat and got himself jammed in and then threw his hands up as if it wasn’t his fault. I wonder if they had just spent nearly £90,000 on a new car whether they would be so cavalier.



We had received a lot of advice about Llangollen and we found the radios very useful in the narrow sections as Pat raced ahead on the towpath and kept me up to date with the hire boats heading my way and which ones had Lewis Hamilton at the tiller. We eventually moored in the basin above the town in a very attractive location.

On Monday we caught the bus into Wrexham, about 30 minutes away. I bought some new sandals and as we keep breaking wine glasses and tumblers we topped them up as well. Interesting pint of some local Dragon beer at 6 per cent in the Wetherspoons there. Must say I have been a bit disappointed in the beer in the pubs around here though the Slaters was OK last night in the “Corn Mill”, down on the River Dee below us. The beer in The Telford Arms at Trevor, “Waggledance”, was very average.

Narrowboat Saturn arrives with the torch

We are supposed to be taking it easy, but yesterday morning we were up at 6am and away from the marina at 6.30am. The aqueduct shuts on Wednesday morning for the Olympic torch to make its way over and it seemed sensible to be on the other side before that, hence the leaving time  to get a decent mooring. We have moored up just 200 metres from the aqueduct, but within an hour it had filled up and now there is a long line of boats moored in the sunshine, while locals are cutting grass and putting up hundreds of Welsh flags. I think the plan is to walk over to the other side early tomorrow morning before they shut the aqueduct at 8am. An old historic boat “Saturn” is being used as the torch bearer. We saw it moored in Llangollen.

The flame arrives on the opposite towpath

Olympic flame-resistant sunglasses at the ready

And it was worth hanging around for. We were up at 7am and walked over the aqueduct and joined a couple of thousand boaters, locals, school children and guests and got a really good view of the flame aboard the boat – see pix. I am not a huge fan of the Olympics, but as everybody says, it is a once in a lifetime memory, and I am glad we made the effort to embrace it.  We set off and a couple of miles down the cut we passed “The Poachers Pocket” and the girl who ran that leg, was standing by the towpath, posing for pix. Pat took a quick pic but cut her head off so I have not included it. Then it was a record day’s mileage so far, 14 1/2 miles back to Ellesmere for the night, arriving around 6pm and eagerly tuning in to BBC Wales to see if we made it on TV.

Now we backtrack to the Shropshire Union and pop up to Chester for a couple of days.  Then we start our descent to the south of the network through June and July.

Keep in touch.