Pillow Talk With Boris

Birthday Brunch

 What’s going on? A midweek Jotting - how unusual. I thought I'd write today as we are having a ‘rest day’ after our jaunt through Banbury yesterday. I knew it was going to be a long day when we pulled out to go through Slats Mill Lock and found we were behind two boats. One crept by as we were untying, the second was trying to untie to pull out in front of us, but couldn't release the half-hitch-granny-reef-sheep-shank that he'd so cleverly tied the night before. We took pity on them and let them go in front of us as they were all quite elderly. Feeling happy with our good deed but now three quarts of an hour behind our schedule (ha ha – that's funny – we don't really have a schedule!) we chugged off towards the bright lights of Banbury. It's a great place to visit by boat, there are loads of visitor moorings right in the centre of the town. We would have moored right outside the shopping centre except there was demolition works going on and the noise and the dust was horrendous so we pulled back under the Tom Rolt Bridge and moored on the park. We wandered around town for a while but Tricky wasn't allowed in the shopping precinct and the town itself is suffering from the malaise of so many of our towns – empty shops, too many charity shops and coffee shops. After an unsuccessful attempt to get Carl into the barbers for a hair cut, we set off through the wind up lift bridge and down the town lock to moor by Morrisons for a mammoth trolley full of supplies. Honestly, I don't know where all the food I buy goes to – I hardly eat anything you know (Who me emoji!) We finally moored for the day by squeezing our 57 feet into a 58 foot gap, no mean feat with a gusting wind and a showery sky threatening to drench us. It had been a busy day so I was happy to have an early night and retired with a book about forensic science to lull me off to sleep. For some reason I decided to turn my pillows over, not something I would normally do and I don't know why I did it that night but I'm so glad I did. Boris, the cratch spider, was hiding in the gap behind the mattress and the bulkhead – I saw his boots disappearing down there as I lifted the pillow. Naughty Boris! Or words to that effect. He spent the night in a glass under a postcard of the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct until Carl could rehome him in the hedge next morning. Bad Boy Boris!

Last week we travelled from Braunston to Cropredy and it was blissful to set off up the Napton flight on a cool, cloudy, breezy morning. I browsed along the hedges, picking blackberries between locks and chatted to an old chap, taking his morning exercise down the locks. A farmer buzzed over the adjoining pasture with a border collie on the passenger seat, the clever dog would hop off and run ahead then turn and jump back aboard, tongue lolling and ears pricked ready for action. We were the only boat going up but we met several boats coming down which made for a smooth passage. We chugged through gates left open for us and there were plenty of eager crews to help with the paddles as the next boat waited patiently to take our place in the lock. As we neared the last lock, I looked across the fields and saw the famous Napton water buffalo, grazing placidly and looking decidedly foreign in this quintessentially English rural setting. I cannot resist taking photos of them, thank goodness for digital photography as I was able to snap away to my hearts content but couldn’t quite capture their oddness. We decided to carry on towards Bridge 125, a spot that holds so many happy memories for us. We call it the Epiphany Bridge as that’s where we fell in love with boating on a warm September evening in 2006 on our hire boat Verity. We can look back now over so many happy years of boating and be ever thankful for the holiday that changed our lives. We didn’t quite have the place to ourselves, the enterprising farmer has set up a Yurt in the field across the water, complete with outdoor hot tub facing the sunset. I peeked inside as we passed and saw a huge bed, luxuriously draped, and also facing the sunset with a great view over the valley. When we set off the next morning we passed miles of fencing and a huge earthmoving digger, working on the foundations for the HS2 railway and my heart sank to see the destruction of that rural idyll. The farmer won’t be able to give his Yurt away once that starts running.

Me on Verity at bridge 125 in 2006

We broke our journey at Fenny Compton next day, and while Carl watered up, I walked along the towpath looking for a suitable mooring - ironically, it was too shady. The cooler days mean that we need to find a sunny spot to warm us up and get the panels working. It was a whole 10 degrees hotter when we moored in Napton! Onward through the Fenny Compton Tunnel which is a very narrow corridor of water, overgrown with trees and sprouting brambles which threatened to scratch our recently painted panels. I must mention Phil Walton of Burton Upon Trent here - he has done a great job of our name panels and now that Carl has repainted the diamonds on the bows and touched up the handrails again, the Lady Aberlour is looking a treat.

Next morning we were off early and reached the top lock to find the bottom gates open and a dry canal bed stretching away where the water should be. That’s not a good start to the day! I closed the gates and opened all the paddles to send water through the lock to fill the pound below. I leaned on the lock gates and gazed down into the rushing water and noticed that it looked a very strange shade of green, almost oily. The workmen from Canal and River Trust knew exactly what is was - Blue-Green Algae and the whole canal for quite a few miles was affected. Our early start was rewarded by a prime mooring spot in Cropredy and, it being my birthday, we set off to find a suitable place to celebrate. The most delightful Mulberry Cafe was our first stop after a walk around the pretty village with more than its fair share of thatched cottages. Carl opted for the English Breakfast and because I had done 8 locks without any breakfast, I opted for the delicious cream tea. Later on, after a lazy afternoon, I took Tricky off along a roadway towards the intriguing Prescote Manor and I hoped to find some reference to its history along the way. I had read that the Buttery used to serve Chicken and Mushroom Quiche and Rhubarb ice-cream to large numbers of visitors and that there was a handicrafts centre too. Sadly for me, that part of the estate closed many years ago( and no-onecalls it handicrafts anymore.)   I trotted off back to the boat and changed into my best going out birthday togs and me and ‘im indoors went off up the Red Lion for a knees up. Well, you can hardly call a couple of gins, fish and chips and a dog fight a knees up can you! The gin was Pink, the fish was Cod and the dog was a flippin’ great Alsatian that tried to give the pub spaniel a pierced ear. Mr and Mrs ‘My Dog Wouldn’t Hurt a Flea' corralled the Alsatian into the corner and it sat between them looking like it needed a bib and a knife and fork to tuck into his tea too.

We’re in the Cherwell Valley tonight, we’ve crossed under the M40 several times today and I can hear it humming across the fields as I write and yet, it seems like a world away, as if we are in a parallel universe. Deep thoughts for a Tuesday - I’d better finish this and get to bed.


Night Night All

Xx