Hedgerow Jottings: Blue Lips and Sour Dough

Foxton Locks - Passing Place

Morning Jotters

Are you feeling a bit Mondayish? I will never get over the joy and wonder of waking up on a Monday morning with a whole new week of boating ahead. Whatever the weather, we’re chugging along, never in a hurry and with no particular destination in mind. This week we've travelled from the ‘green man’ mooring near Husbands Bosworth, down the locks at Foxton, stayed a few days in Market Harborough and now we’re tucked in between the reeds, on our way to Saddington and the long descent through Leicester to the River Soar. Get the kettle on Jan - we’re coming your way!

Wet Morning

We timed our arrival at Foxton to perfection, arriving just as the locks opened and we were first in the queue to go down the 10 locks. There was time for Carl to fill up with water while we waited and I nipped to the Top Lock Cafe for refreshments for the Captain to eat on the way down and something for me, for later. It only takes a couple of hours to work down these pretty locks, they are easy to wind and I had plenty of willing volunteers to help open and close the gates. There was a bit of a wait whilst a paddle was repaired (something jammed in the mechanism) and I passed the time by chatting to a group of paramedics, who were on a break from a training course nearby. They had been weeks into their initial training when Covid arrived and were thrown in at the deep end, training abandoned, to do the best they could. Only now were they finally able to pick up their training again, still smiling and making light of their efforts. What a great bunch of people.

Steerer's View

We slipped onto a mooring right by the Foxton Locks Inn and had a great view of the procession of boats coming in and out of the basin - it’s very entertaining when you’re tied up securely and watching the fun. It was a nice day and the pub garden was busy with holiday makers so it wasn’t our usual peaceful mooring but handy for staggering home later that evening after meeting our friends Richard and Mel for dinner. Eating out has been a bit of a theme this week - we found a nice place in Market Harborough where the jacket potatoes were oven crisp and the waitress brought Tricky a bowl of water before she even took our order. Not quite up to ‘Ginger Fox’ standards (I hope they are open again in Bourne) Tricky gets a sausage there.

New Bed for Tricky

There was a boat on the best mooring spot when we arrived in Market Harborough but we kept watch until they moved off and jumped right in it. Most of the visitor moorings are in the shade along here but there is just this one spot that gets the full sun. Carl put up the panels and we donned our rucksacks and wandered down into the town, to stock up on our supplies. It has taken two days to get everything we need, Tricky has a new bed, Carl has a new coat, I bought a bunch of birthday cards then realised I’m too late to post them ( Happy Birthday Terry, Gloria and Emma - sorry you didn’t get a card in the post but I was thinking about you!). The fridge is full again and I topped up the ‘Treat’ tin with Penguins. I only found out yesterday that Penguins are just bourbons dipped in chocolate. I don’t know why I thought you might be interested in that nugget of information, maybe everyone else knew this already and its just me. We feasted on salmon and fresh raspberries to make up for earlier in the week when the best I could do was Meaty Eggs (scrambled eggs with spam chopped up and mixed in). We were just collecting milk from the Co-op when I got a message to say Ian and Di were nearby and could they call in. Of course they could and we hurried back to the boat to tidy up so they wouldn’t be shocked by the sight of my underwear airing on the curtain rails. After a cuppa and a catch up, we went over to the Waterfront, a very nice restaurant right on Union Wharf. We had a ring side seat to watch a group of paddle boarders practising in the basin. It was a warm evening for their lesson which was fortunate as they spent more time in the water than balancing on their boards.

The Waterfront Restaurant, Market Harborough

We set out early from Market Harborough the next morning and it wasn’t until I went down below to make our morning coffee, that I discovered I had forgotten the bread. Carl does like a boiled egg with a slice of fresh brown bread for his breakfast on Sundays and I could only find the remains of a decidedly dry loaf in the cupboard. We were just coming into Foxton so we tied up and I hurried off to catch the bus back to Market Harborough - I couldn’t let the Captain go without his Sunday egg! I puffed my way up the hill from the swing bridge and looked along the road for the bus stop sign. Wait a minute! what’s that sign say? ‘Fresh Artisan Bread’. I could hardly believe my eyes - a bakery here in Foxton. When did that happen? I trotted down the road and found a delightful couple running a tea room and bakery called ‘The Stables’ just by the Black Horse pub. They had fresh bread, scones, baguettes, sourdough loaves, rolls, cakes and cookies, jars of marmalade and jam - all home made and very delicious. I lingered over a cappuccino and chatted to the baker and his wife and went home with a nice fresh loaf, still warm and a couple of baguettes too. It was a very wet afternoon so we settled in the cabin for a lazy afternoon with our books, only venturing our later in the evening when the sky cleared.

The Stables Artisan Bakery

This morning, we left Foxton and turned down the Leicester arm and found a ‘one boat’ mooring in amongst the reeds. It's another wet afternoon and I’m tapping away in the cabin with Tricky snores away in her new bed by my feet. Carl is doing something Spanish on his ukulele, but the sound is drowned out by the rain drumming n the roof again. I’m hoping the weather picks up again this week for our trip, I’m not quite ready to get my winter boots out.

That’s all for this week my friends, I’ll write again soon.

Love from

The Floating Chandlers

Ps it was my turn to make a sacrifice to the Canal Gods this week. I dropped the long handled sweeping brush into the canal, while I was washing the cobwebs off the tunnel lamp. I walked to the back of the boat to get the boat hook to fish it out with but by the time I got back, the hollow handle had filled with water and it had sunk. I fished and fished but it was gone for good.

In amongst the reeds

Pps Met a man painting his boat on the moorings in Market Harborough. He was wearing an Ipod and headphones as he slapped on the navy blue paint with brush and roller. I was fascinated by his navy blue lips and the splashes of navy blue covering his iPod and headset. The boat looked a treat when he'd finished but I couldn't help wondering how he got the stain off his lips!