Turn and Turn Again

Audlem - great reflections of the cottage below the bottom lock

Hello. Carl here.

Have you ever tried writing a letter backwards? What I mean is, have you started with your name, then written Yours Faithfully, and continued in this unconventional fashion until you finish with Dear Sir/Madam? It’s really difficult, I can tell you, and to be frank I wouldn’t recommend it. The reason for this slightly odd question is that I’ve been through these jottings in reverse mode looking for rants and, surprisingly, have found none. (Linda here, on censor duty – this is a rant free zone)  

Wrenbury Church

 Last Sunday we were in Wrenbury sampling the gastronomical and alcoholic (in moderation of course) delights of The Cotton Arms pub. We enjoyed it so much on Saturday evening that we decided to do it all over again on Sunday. A table for six was booked for 1pm. This was because I like my food and wanted five dinners, Linda opting to have just the one. No, I’m joking, dear reader. We were joined by Claire and family and a nice time was had by all. The food and service was excellent and the company even better. (Linda again – why do pubs serve the adults first then bring out the child's meal in a smoking hot dish. Oops! I think that was a rant )

Bywater Hotel Boat steered by Rosie (yes really) 

We said goodbye to Wrenbury the next day and passed through the Church Lift Bridge without incident and soon came to the three Baddiley locks. A boat was coming up and I was preparing to enter the lock when the gates closed – that's not supposed to happen! Linda trotted back to let me know there was a hotel boat with a motor boat and butty coming up, not a common sight on this canal. Click this link if you fancy it. Bywater Hotel Boats   We were happy to wait for them to bring up the butty so they could hitch both boats together and continue on their way. We weren't in a hurry but the six boats queuing behind them were a little fed up!. We chugged on as the skies darkened and the wind got up and moored through bridge 5. Although we had tied up in a comparatively open spot the wind saw fit to direct lots of tree debris onto our roof overnight. By morning our boat looked like the Black Forest. All that was missing was a gateau!

Sunny for our last day on the Llangollen

The next day dawned sunny and warm, although the breeze was a tad chilly. We lost no time in casting off and proceeded in a north easterly direction until we came to the four locks at Hurlestone. Linda worked her magic and we were soon through the locks and turning right to rejoin the Shroppie canal. It was pleasant to chug through the summer sunshine for the next two miles until we were back at Nantwich. As Jess ( grandaughter) was joining us for a couple of days, we tied up just before the aqueduct. Whenever I hear the word aqueduct I can’t help thinking to myself “What have the Romans ever done for us?”. Loved that film... 

Clear water sparkling in the sunshine

I needed some boat stuff (oil filter, rope, paint, spare throttle cable etc) so we wandered up to the Nantwich Chandlery. They were so helpful. We’ll definitely be going there again. (Linda – not if I can help it! Even with a discount for cash, I needed smelling salts to pay the bill!)

Wrapped up for an evening cruise - Welcome aboard Jess.

The only thing missing from this week’s drivel is an automobile. And a plane. That’s two things, isn’t it? Never mind, I’ve substituted narrowboat for plane. Yes, you’ve guessed. We caught a train on Wednesday! We got tickets and everything. We travelled to Shrewsbury to meet Jess, had a bit of lunch and a wander about, then caught the train back. More relaxing, albeit a tad slower, was the evening cruise we had from Nantwich to the other side of Hack Green locks. Now, in order to get Jess back to Nantwich so she could catch her train we needed to turn the boat. Not easy if the said vessel is fifty seven feet long and the canal is maybe thirty or forty feet or so wide. Happily, there are turning places here and there, or winding holes as they are called. (Yes Carl – they know what a winding hole is by now!!) There was one of these at the bottom of Audlem locks and it was here that we set out for on Thursday. It was a drizzly morning so we moored before the locks and walked up to Audlem intending to visit the famous 'Shroppie Fly'. It is named after the “fly” boats that used to carry cargo 24 hours a day, not a local fly monster. The reviews seemed mostly good, as long as you didn’t sit on the wall, so we decided to go there for some dinner (breakfast, dinner, tea, that sort of dinner; I was dragged up, you see). And in we went. Again, we had a really good experience. The service was good, as was the food. The bar was a curious design, and resembled the bow of a narrowboat. 

Bar Bows at the Shroppie Fly

Time was marching on and we had to get back to Nantwich. We cast off and slowly headed to the winding hole located near the bottom of the first lock of the flight. There were three boats waiting for the lock and I had to pass these in order to turn back the way we’d come. Standing nearly twenty yards away on the stern I was blissfully unaware of what was going on at the front of the boat and couldn’t see the facial expression of the lady on the last boat in the queue. She began to go fifty shades of purple and started yelling about the queue and that I’d have to wait. By this time I was ready to begin turning and pointed the bows into the winding hole. I caught a glimpse of her as the stern slowly went by and I gave her a friendly wave. This wasn’t reciprocated; she just glared at me and turned away. How rude, I thought. It was only later that Linda and Jess told me what had been going on. Oh well. 

Happy Days with Jess

Having turned the boat through one hundred and eighty degrees we left the lady of the great wrath and cruised back to Nantwich, where we found a handy mooring for the night. We said our goodbyes to Jess at the station the next morning. The weather had changed and it rained most of the afternoon. It was that fine rain, the sort that wets you through. The main, heavy rain didn’t start until later that evening. Not having to be anywhere in particular we lit the fire and stayed at our mooring.  

Sunset at Hack Green

After having a big sleep we woke up to another Saturday. The weather had cleared and it was a nice day. We were pointed the wrong way again, so needed to travel to the next winding hole and tun again. This we did, meeting two grumpy fishermen before we turned and then meeting them again after we’d turned. Grumpy fishermen aside, we had a very enjoyable little cruise to the other side of Hack Green locks and the Secret Nuclear Bunker mooring. It was a beautiful summer day. Across the canal was a mass of brilliant green rushes. Behind them stood a grove of trees. Above was an English sky of purest blue, speckled with fleecy white clouds. And here we moored.

And there we’ll have to leave it until next time.

Love from

The Floating Chandlers

ps Painting has commenced! I expect it will rain every day now that I have decided to make good the dings and scratches inflicted by boaters playing dodgems with us on the Llangollen. Let me check the forecast...

Pirates and Pubs

Evening on the Llangollen

Morning Jotters

Now that we’ve left the hustle and bustle of Ellesmere behind us, we find ourselves drifting along without any real plans.  We had thought to spend some time on the Weaver, idling down to the Red Lion at one end and back up to Frodsham at the other.  I was disappointed to read that the Anderson Boat Lift will be out of action by the time we arrive, so that’s put the kibosh on that!  We toyed with the idea of running up to Chester or over to Middlewich but, in the end, decided to go south to meet up with Tony (Bethsaida Covers) to try, once again, to get measured for our new canopy.  

Jolly Pirates 

Monday morning dawned sunny, warm and still - the perfect start to a summers day.  How fickle is the English weather!  By the time we reached Ellesmere, it was drizzling and miserable. We slipped onto a mooring right opposite the services and packed our bags, ready for a couple of days ashore with our friends, Terry and Liz.  Tricky wasn’t very excited until I said the magic words ‘Car Car’ which immediately had her leaping up the steps while we, her servants, followed behind with bags of dog food and her majesty’s bed.  Fortunately, the gloomy weather was concentrated over Ellesmere and we found the sun again as we sped along through tiny villages with quaint names - Angelbank, Quabbs and Bedlam (they are real places, but I used poetic licence as they were not on our route that day).  Shropshire is a very beautiful county and if you have yet to visit, then you are in for a treat. 

Stormy Skies but no rain!

 I have been reading about ‘Garden Pubs’ and wondered why they should be so popular, who wants to sit in a cold, draughty shed and drink flat beer, I wondered.  Well Jotters, I have been educated!  We were invited into what looked like a garden shed from the outside but had the charm and atmosphere of an old fashioned ‘tap room’.  The beer flowed out of a pump, the ice clinked in my (lemon) gin and we sang pirate songs to entertain the neighbours.  It was a great night and I am still singing that flipping pirate song chorus, I think it has got stuck in my head now.  Never mind, it makes a change from ‘Mandy’.  Thanks for a great time Terry and Liz, we’re already planning our very own ‘Garden Pub’ so watch this space! 

ca

Carl's Caption - Is this bee trying to limbo? 

 Back aboard and the sun has returned as we chug off towards Welshampton and moor just before the winding hole.  We walk back along the towpath and I try to identify the wild flowers along the way.  A heron flies up and flaps away and we listen to the urgent shrillness of a reed warbler.  A wren serenades us, a chiff chaff makes his endless racket and a blackbird pops up out of the undergrowth, not in the least bit afraid of us wandering through his territory.  There isn’t a splendid sunset tonight, just a slow waning of the light until darkness finally creeps in.  We are fast asleep long before that happens.  I am reminded that it will soon be the longest day and I cannot speak of the inevitable, gentle slide towards autumn.

My sentiments entirely!

Rain is forecast and for once, we don’t mind.  The boat has a light coating of dust and if it doesn’t rain soon, we may have to wash it.  It’s quite a task to wash and wax 57 foot of boat and when you’ve finished one side, you still have the other side to do! If we get the heavy rain that is forecast then that is half the job done for us.  Of course, the rain holds off and it remains stubbornly dry as we chug along in the sunshine and moor by Whixall Moss to explore.  We climb over the steep bridge and take the towpath along the Prees Arm towards Whixall Marina.  If you are reading this Lisa from What A Lark, there are some very interesting gaps in the hedges along here.  I saw a barn through one, ‘not very unusual’ I hear you say except this one had the doors open and the inside was covered in road signs - someone’s collection I suppose but how very strange. The Prees Arm is very pretty, a couple of lift bridges seem to have no purpose and there are a few boats that look as if they moor along here permanently.  We eventually ended up in the marina cafe for a snack while we looked at the boats (yes - we really are that sad, we live on one but cannot resist popping down to the local marina to top up our obsession!) We took the usual WhatsApp snap to send to the family and were surprised to get a reply from the 2 girlies to say they were both on a day off and were coming over.  I sent them the 3 word code for the car park and before you could say ‘helpfully-stables-extension’ they had arrived. We had a jolly evening, including a rendition of the Pirate song just because I’m still laughing along to the ‘Fisherman’s Friends’ singing it .listen here  I've had another bash at posting a link - I had to remove the ‘Horse Boat’ link from last week’s blog as it malfunctioned, sorry about that, it was a nice clip so when I’ve got a minute, I’ll try again. 

A collection of Road Signs

Grinley Brook wasn’t busy but the two boats in front of us were painfully slow and the Captain was glad to pull in at the bottom and call it a day.  I was still on my first cup of tea, listening to Tony Blackburn, when we cast of the next morning.  Carl was on a mission to get to Wrenbury, where we were hoping to get a good mooring with the sun on our panels and here we are. Another fabulous boating week and I’m happy to report that the expected rain finally fell during the night and washed the dust away.  

That’s all from us for this week, we’ll soon be back on the Shroppie and if anything interesting happens, I’ll write again and let you know

Love from

The Floating Chandlers

P.S. We were entertained by the Ellesmere ‘Sea Shanty Singers’ who came to practise in the yard across the water from the boat.  They were really very good and I couldn’t resist joining in with the ones I knew, I don’t think they minded. 

Evening Heron

P.P.S. As I operated the notorious road bridge at Wrenbury Mill, an impatient car driver tried to beat the bridge and was hit by the barriers as they descended.  The lights were red, the siren was sounding, but he thought he had time to get through. I wanted to laugh but kept my eyes fixed on the panel until Carl had chugged by and the bridge was back in place.  He roared by, scattering gravel as he passed me and almost ran into the back of a delivery lorry parked outside the Cotton Arms.  I’m reminded that there are some mad, bad drivers around and I'm not looking forward to driving a car again ( racing car emoji)

Sunny morning in Ludlow

P.P.P.S.  Lisa (Nb WAL) I’m not ignoring you, for some reason I can’t comment on your blog!

Prees Branch Junction House

Somehow it's still interesting!

Gin and 'Oggies

The Pontcysyllte Aqueduct

Morning Jotters

The cruise to Llangollen has been a test of our patience at times, so many boats, all heading down ‘the Narrows’, meeting yesterday’s boats all rushing back from their overnight mooring in Llangollen. The Lady Aberlour is looking a bit battered after several ramming attempts and one almighty collision where the Captain asked Carl if she was passing us on the wrong side!(she was, which rather surprised us). A day boat went by, with a crew dressed as fairies and unicorns, who missed us the first time so they reversed back and had another go. Doh! Carl is longing to touch up the paintwork but any application of fresh paint now would be totally wasted. After the hectic pace of this past week, we are looking forward to taking things much slower for the remainder of our time on the Llangollen Canal and it does get much quieter after Ellesmere.

Chirk Aqueduct

We moored at the Queens Head pub on the way back to the locks at Frankton. It’s a good mooring but very noisy. It was too much for us after the solitude of the Maesbury moorings, but we needed supplies, so I went off on the bus into Oswestry, leaving Carl and Tricky to mind the boat. There would be plenty of time for an evening cruise after tea and we could moor up by the locks to be ready for our pre-booked passage on Tuesday morning.

Blue Skies over Wales

Oswestry was sleepy in the afternoon sunshine, I found a table in the shade outside a cafe quaintly called ‘The Fat Rabbit’. I ordered a latte and waited a very long time for it to arrive, trying not to wrinkle my nose in case anyone thought I was the fat rabbit. I took the first sip to find it was lukewarm and tasted very odd. I approached the counter with the cup and the young waitress was very apologetic and said she would check the milk, which is when the light dawned on me - I was in a vegan cafe and the coffee was made with oat milk. Oh! We did laugh...No really, we did laugh and when she offered me a refund, I gave her half back as it was partly my fault. Too late now for a latte, I had a quick scramble around Sainsburys and hopped (rabbits again!) on the bus back to the Queens Head. The bus driver looked fairly ordinary but he drove that bus like he was playing Mario Kart and I was sure my milk would be cream by the time we got back. ‘Where’s the fire’ I asked as I got off. He wasn’t amused and roared off with a mad gleam in his eye. It was sheer bliss to dawdle down the canal later, in the cool of the evening, no boats, no dog walkers, no traffic - just us and every so often, a stunning view towards the Welsh mountains in the distance.

Guelder Rose? Not Sure

It was busy from the moment we got back onto the main Llangollen Canal, mostly holiday boats full of happy holidaymakers. We plodded on against the tide of boats, battling against the strong current, which made steering through the bridge holes harder than usual. It was a relief to finally moor in Chirk and watch the procession of boats finally dwindle, until there were just a few hardy stragglers, wringing the last drops of the day out of the twilight. We were taking a passenger with us on the last leg of the journey and my daughter Claire arrived that evening ready for an early start to Llangollen the next day. Those of you have done the Chirk- Llangollen trip will already know that it is one of the most scenic of canals. The smaller aqueduct at Chirk is a taster for the Pontcysyllte ahead, then you plunge straight into the gloom of Chirk Tunnel - the first of two tunnels before the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct. The fast flowing current clings onto the boat and we bump along the wall - it feels like the boat is trying to go uphill. The excitement (fear) mounts as we leave the lift bridge at the Froncysyllte end of the aqueduct and then we fly out over the Dee valley. It’s a truly breath-taking experience as the valley spreads out on either side of the bridge and we cast our shadow on the sparkling Dee far below.

Froncysyllte

We made the crossing just in time, there was a whole convoy of boats queuing to make the crossing. With nowhere for us to go, we had to pull in, so that the stream of boats could make the stunt turn onto the Aqueduct. Some made the turn easily, others crashed and thrashed around, engines roaring, as they rammed into a poor battered swing bridge that is in the firing line for those who get it wrong. Tricky and I were standing on the bridge, waiting to give the Captain the ‘All Clear’ once the last boat was through. I didn’t realise it was a swing bridge until it was rammed and the force of the boat hitting it, swung the bridge with us on it!

Photo from Canal and River Trust website - Trevor Basin

The journey down into Llangollen couldn’t have been better after that. The sun shone and there was a light breeze, Claire read her book in the bows and watched the world go by while Carl and I had our morning coffee on the stern and took endless photos of the tree lined valley. I walked ahead through ‘The Narrows’ but we met no boats and we arrived in the basin to find plenty of moorings. Pontoon moorings are not our favourites, Tricky got confused and tried to get on the wrong boat more than once, but it was a blissful not to be buffeted by passing boats for a couple of days. We walked into town and had a cream tea and bought more gin and ‘Oggies’ for later. The horse drawn boat was just setting off as we climbed the (very) steep steps to the Wharf, we watched the boat gliding along through the clear water, a snippet of history from a bygone age.

Llangollen Basin

Claire has gone home and the boat feels empty without her. We moored in the sunshine yesterday and the new whirligig drying line came out for the sheets and towels to flap in the breeze. After a leisurely breakfast, we cast off and went to take on water at New Marton. We managed to squeeze on between two boats that had moored there overnight, their curtains were still drawn so we left our engine running – we didn't want them tovoversleep! (yes, that was a wee bit of sarcasm!). The locks were set in our favour and I took the tiller for the cruise to our mooring this afternoon, by bridge 63, just outside Ellesmere. A happy sunny week here on the Lady Aberlour, I hope you’ve enjoyed it too. More ‘Hedgerow Jottings’ next week

Love from

The Floating Chandlers

PS We walked to Horseshoe Falls, a lovely stroll along the towpath from Llangollen and when we finally caught a glimpse of the famous ‘Falls’ - Claire said ‘ is this it?’ Perhaps we had built it up too much - I think she was expecting Niagara Falls ( Sad face emoji)

Horseshoe Falls

Morning Coffee

Historic Railway Station

Splendid Views across Dee Valley

Finally... an approved photo!

Chirk Tunnel

Wash Day

Harvey the Horse 

Sunny Days and Washing Lines

The First Roses of Summer

What a glorious week! Boating takes on a whole new dimension when it’s warm. Doors and hatches are flung wide as soon as we set off and our collection of fleece garments will be stored away until Jack Frost comes nipping at our toes. We float along under blue skies, listening to the birds and sniffing the summer scents of fresh green meadows. The yellow flags are waving a salute as we cruise along, pink clover and blue cranesbill nestle in the green verges, still frothy with cow parsley. Beauty is all around us.

Last glimpse of Hawthorn

 Meanwhile, back in the real world, everything hasn’t been quite so rosy. We left Wrenbury early on Monday morning, heading for Grinley Brook and hoping that the rush of boats that passed yesterday, weren’t all moored at the bottom of the staircase locks, waiting to go up. So far. So good. The locks along the Llangollen Canal are narrow and fast fillers - we make good time through Marbury, Quoisley and Willeymoor. Even though its still early, there are a lot of boats moving and I open the bottom gate at Povey’s Lock for a very nervous young man, chugging ever so slowly out, so we can get in. He inches carefully through the gates, hardly making any headway and then swings the tiller hard over, completely forgetting that he has a mountain bike riding on the stern rail. It scrapes the wall and I yell out to warn him, but it’s too late. I hope they managed to straighten out the buckled wheel, but it looked too far gone to me! 

Montgomery Magic

The lock-keeper at Grinley Brook was in a good mood when I went to let him know we were waiting to come up. For those of you who have yet to experience the thrill of the English Canals, a staircase is a run of locks where the top gate of one lock is also the bottom gate of the next one and woe betide anyone who tries to come up the locks while someone is coming down. He said it had been busy yesterday (Bank Holiday Sunday) with some boats queueing for 3 hours. I admired his dedication, I'm betting there were some frayed tempers in that queue! 

Blakemere near Ellesmere

Tuesday was another sunny morning as we made the short trip from Grinley Brook to Whitchurch - I had an ear worm playing in my head ('Mandy' if you’re interested) and was singing as I skipped up to the lift bridge. In another part of my brain I was writing a shopping list for our trip into Whitchurch later and also wondering if we could squeeze in a visit to ‘Benjamins’ coffee shop. It takes 40 turns of the windlass to raise the lift bridge and by the time it finally clanged onto the stops, the world and his wife had appeared and wanted to cross the raised bridge. I let Carl and another boat through, then closed it to let the pedestrians cross, then opened it again to let another boat through. Meanwhile, Carl had reversed down the Whitchurch Arm and bagged a lovely sunny spot for us, next to a really shiny boat called ‘Plan B”. I wandered over to say hello and marvelled at the gadget he was using to wash down his paintwork. He had one end dangling in the canal and it was sucking up the water and jet washing his paintwork. Marvellous! I have all the details and the next time we find a Screwfix, one of those machines will be coming home with us. He also introduced us to Belvenie Whisky later that evening, which is probably why we were still snoozing when they left the next morning. Bon Voyage ‘Plan B’ - hope our paths cross again. 

Idyllic spot for a Shepherds Hut

Wednesday - can you believe it? Still sunny. Chugging along through 2 lift bridges and lazing through the rural pastures, past the entrance to Whixall Marina and on through Whixall Moss to an idyllic mooring where we can watch the sky turn fiery and enjoy the solitude. 

Fiery Sunset at Blackwater Marina

Thursday dawned grey and chilly - boo! We pottered up to the water point to refill the tank and saw that there was already a boat on the water point, moored across both water taps so no room for us. We didn’t want to hurry them, so we pulled in across the way to wait for them to finish filling up. After a while, the hose was put away, everyone disappeared inside the boat and we waited to see if they would move off. Eventually, I wandered up and called across to ask if they could pull back so we could get to the tap. They weren’t a happy crew and there was much glowering and sulking as they threw off their ropes and stormed off. I gleaned that they had run the tank dry and even though they had filled up, it still wasn’t coming through the taps. Oh dear! We would have helped them if they had smiled and been sociable but I’m not at my best until after my morning coffee, so maybe my face wasn’t smiling either! 

Narrow Bridge - Breath In!

I rarely take the tiller, although I’m usually safe to leave in charge while the Captain nips below. It was unfortunate that I happened to be steering when we met a day boat and, in a panic, the steerer knocked off all power and swung aimlessly across the canal. Honestly, there was nowhere for me to go. I hit the throttle and went hard astern but we still collided quite hard. It doesn’t happen often and, once we had checked to make sure the kettle was still on the stove, we weren’t too concerned but the poor family on the day boat looked terrified.

Sad to see this falling down

 Everywhere we go along the Llangollen, we have happy memories of sunny days spent boating with friends and family. In Whitchurch, we lingered in Benjamins and I whizzed off a message to Terry and Liz saying ‘Wish you were here’ and before you could say ‘2 extra hot Latte’s please’I got a call saying they were on their way. We just had time to drag home the trolley, tidy the boat and they came strolling along the tow-path. We shared a leisurely afternoon with much laughter and a few beers - it’s been many months since we last met up. Tomorrow, we collect daughter Claire for a cruise across the Pontcysyllte - I’m not sure she’s looking forward to it but then neither is Carl and he’s driving! 

Quoisley Lock

We’re down on the Montgomery as I write this - I would need to take up a whole Jotting to do it justice and after last weeks overdose, I thought I’d better not wear my welcome out (embarrassed face emoji). 

That’s about it for this week my friends. Have a great week and I’ll write more next week from Llangollen. 

Love from The Floating Chandlers 

Ps The Chandler's Floating Laundry is open for business! The Brolly Mate needed a little bit of adaptation to accommodate the whirligig washing line but finally, I can dry my washing outdoors. I wonder how long it will be before my tea towels are beetling off across the cut on their own - they’re bound to blow away! 

Whitchurch

Pps It was a very hot afternoon and Carl was down in the engine room, tinkering. I thought the nearby Visitors Centre in Maesbury would sell ice-creams but sadly not. I must have looked very disappointed as the manager went across to his house and gave us two mint Magnums out of his own freezer. What a lovely man!