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!