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| Whitchurch Lift Bridge |
Bore
da Pawb (that's Welsh for Good Morning Everyone)
Today
we're poised on the English border, ready to cross into Wales for the
final leg of our Autumn cruise. The weather's become very Welsh
since we turned down the Llangollen Canal and our waterproofs aren't
keeping the rain out. Tricky shelters under the hatch and is quite
cosy as the floor is warm from the heat of the engine, while Carl and
I shiver under the umbrella and watch the black clouds roll across
the sky. Luckily for us, the rain is intermittent, and we've had
some dry, sunny spells in between the showers. The nights are
turning chillier too so we were pleased to meet the fuel boat in
Wrenbury. Three bags of their best 'Footwarmer' coal are tucked up
on the roof and I've been doing my bit by collecting wood along the
way to add to the stash in the bows - the weather can do what it
wants now - we're ready for winter.
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| Spooky tree |
Audlem
was very busy on Monday morning with hire boats rushing up and down
the flight. We delayed our departure until the first flurry had died
down then set off with the warmth of the September sun glinting off
the lakes as we crossed the Weaver Valley aqueduct. The hire boats
along here are numerous and we're used to meeting people from all
over the world, who've come to England to spend a fortune hiring a
narrow boat thinking it will be 'fun'. It's not really much fun when
you're committed to spend 8 hours on the tiller in the pouring rain
and I do feel sorry for them as they flog past with their flimsy
plastic macs flapping in the gale force wind with blue knees and rain
running off the end of their nose. My favourites are the Americans
and the Canadians - they're all so damned cheerful, whatever the
weather! They love to chat at the locks but woe betide anyone who
mixes up their nationalities. We did spot a flag that we didn't
recognise this week, it was blue with a yellow stripe and 2 white
stars. 'I don't recognise your flag - where are you from?' I called
out to them as they cruised by. The reply wasn't at all what I
expected - they were English but flew the Curacean flag as they'd had
a holiday there once and liked the country a lot - they said it was a
good talking point and, of course, they were right about that!
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| Weaver Valley - Audlem |
Coming
up the Hurlestone flight, I spied a tree laden with ripe damsons -
I'm amazed that the fruit was still there as this is a busy flight
with lots of boats up and down. Usually, the trees closest to the
canal have been stripped bare and I've hardly found any damsons at
all on the way down the Shroppie. These were just ripe for picking,
sweet and juicy, even the lower branches were loaded with fruit - too
nice to resist, so I filled my pockets. At Grindley Brook, there
were cooking apples and marrows in a basket by the bottom lock. I
helped myself to the apples but couldn't think of anything to do with
a marrow - does anyone actually eat those things?
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| Pat on Naga Queen going into Hurlestone top lock |
We've
whizzed along the Llangollen Canal this week through Wrenbury and
Grindley Brook to Whitchurch where we parted from our travelling
companions, Pat and Malc. They turned the Naga Queen for home on
Friday and we're continuing our cruise without them - we'll miss
their company and so will Tricky. Whitchurch was humming with
shoppers when we walked up to town with them on Friday morning. The
early morning showers had cleared away and we idled away the morning
poking around in the charity shops and drinking coffee in Benjamins
before scooting round Tesco's where we filled the trolley full to
bursting with our weekly supplies before joining the other pensioners
on the local community bus back to the boat. As Pat and Malc set off
back towards Grinley Brook we went under the lift bridge and chugged
off towards Ellesmere in the bright afternoon sunshine. We didn't
get very far before we found a peaceful spot to moor up – just us,
on our own, far from the noisy Whitchurch bypass. Tidy as they say in
Wales!
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| Tricky's already in her winter coat |
Tricky
rolled in something disgusting this week and even with a couple of
Naga Champ joss sticks burning, I could still smell her. I had to
give her a bath, but then the boat reeked of wet dog. On top of
that, I made a chicken curry for tea and that perfumed my dreams with
Eastern Promise and I woke up with a curry headache. I should know
better than to believe the advertising hype but I succumbed to the
temptation of a squirty can of fruity scented Febreze and ran through
the boat, leaving a cloud of vapour that a Boeing jet would have been
proud of, then left it to do its magic while we sauntered into town.
We came back to an even worse niff - curry flavoured,melon scented,
wet dog! Luckily for us, we've had some sunny spells so I've been
able to give the boat a good airing, a real breeze is better than 10
cans of Fauxbreeze and the pongy curry/melon/dog smell has been
replaced by the merest hint of cow dung. Ah well, you can't win them
all - pass the Naga Champ please Carl!
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| The view from the top of Hurlestone flight |
Tomorrow
we set off with the hordes of holidaymakers heading for Llangollen.
We've moored just before the busy junction in Ellesmere and there's
been a constant stream of boats passing by. It's so busy that we may
dive off down the Mongomery Canal, in search of the peace and quiet
that we love. The Llangollen Canal goes through some of the most
beautiful countryside, but with so many boats on such a narrow canal
it's hard to enjoy it as you never know what's coming at you around
the next bend. Yesterday, we met a day boat just where a large group
of trees were hanging over the water, reducing visibility
considerably. We couldn't see him but we could hear the roar of his
engine and the waters boiled with a huge bow wave coming around the
corner so we gave him a toot on the horn to let him know that we were
just around the bend. He responded by tooting his horn in response
and throwing the throttle into hard reverse. Dad and son were on the
stern, female passengers looking at us from the cabin, clutching
glasses of fizz and looking worried as their bows drifted across
towards us. Dad knocked off the throttle and waggled the tiller till
their stern swung out to meet us and we crept passed them on tick
over. Then they were off again, engine at full throttle, young lad
hanging dangerously over the stern without a life jacket.
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| Ellesmere in Bloom |
The
forecast is abominable for the coming week,I don't mind though, I've
downloaded four new books onto my reader and I've got a stash of wool
to keep me occupied. Anyone need a crocheted dishcloth or a granny
square blankie?
That's
all from us for this week, take care everyone
Love
and Hugs as always
The
Floating Chandlers
PS
I was standing next to a chap who was operating the paddles on the
Grindley staircase when his windlass suddenly flew up in the air and
came down on the ground by my feet. Phew! – that was too close for
comfort!
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