Whirlwinds and Snow Showers

Blue Skies on the Ashby

Morning Jotters

This week we have travelled from Kings Orchard Marina on the Coventry Canal to the delightful Ashby Canal. Tonight we are moored by bridge 38 (What3Words location organist.mash.stew) in a very quiet location by a farm with interesting gables and chimneys.  

Peaceful Mooring

Carl has been outside all afternoon polishing his sliders and repairing the solar panels. Remember the last day of March? It was the day I was due to catch the bus/train from Hinckley to Leicester to continue my love/hate relationship with my dentist. (I’m sure I am single handedly putting his sons through university!). We opened the curtains to find thick frost on the hedges and snow flurries beginning to throw a chilly coat over the nodding daffodils. I stepped out into the icy wind, loaded down with my rucksack and dressed for the arctic in boots, gloves and woolly hat. The bus was late, and I was very glad to climb aboard, with the other masked ranks of card carrying pensioners. and sit on the sunny side of the bus for the hour long journey to Leicester City Centre. I struck off towards the next bus stop and the short ride to Birstall and I was very happy to see our friend Keith waiting for me at the bus stop. He whisked me back to their house for hot coffee and a sandwich and a catch up with Jan before running me down to the surgery for my appointment. I did apologise to Dr Ghadiali for breathing fishy fumes at him while reclining in his chair, just in case that tuna fought its way through the minty toothpaste I use. He was charm personified as always although it's slightly worrying when the instructions are and I quote ‘ If I drop anything in your mouth, whatever you do, don’t swallow’(surprised face emoji) Anyway, it was soon over and I skipped out of the door with a light heart and caught the Airport Flyer back to town and eventually, the Hinckley bus arrived and I shuddered and jolted back to Hinckley. Carl and Tricky came to meet me and the icy wind was blowing hard as we trooped back to the boat. That was the cause of the small disaster that happened while I was out. A gust of wind suddenly sprang up out of nowhere and it was so strong it picked up our solar panels and tried to hurl them into the water, they hung over the side flapping in the breeze until Carl managed to rescue them. Thank goodness they didn’t break, although the metal frame gouged (that word popped up in Quordle and flummoxed me - what a ridiculous word!) a big chunk out of the handrail. I was soon smouldering in the heat from the stove and drinking copious amounts of tea while Tricky ignored me, to punish me for going out without her.                          

Tricky Sulking

The rest of the week has been quite relaxing compared with that eventful Thursday, we had a couple of long days chugging through Tamworth and Atherstone. We did the first two locks of the Atherstone flight, then moored for the night ready to tackle the remaining 9 the next day. We set off in the early morning mist, chilly and overcast and made good time through the first 4 locks and stopped there so we could wander into town for provisions. First stop Aldi - the green light was on over the door so we approached the door but it refused to open. After a few minutes of waving my hands trying to wake up the sensor and ramming my trolley at the glass doors without any luck, I hammered on the door until a tall person arrived, with some sort of magic wand and hey presto! We were in. I whizzed round with the trolley and then we played a game of ‘hunt the cashier’. I’ve been caught out like this before, you join the queue and then you hear ‘ we are opening till number 3’ and everyone does a mad dash to the (as yet) unmanned till. We unload our shopping and wait - no cashier arrives. The queue we were in clears but we are still waiting for a cashier number 3! I am tempted to leave my shopping on the belt but just as we decide to do that, she arrives and swipes it all through as if she’s going for the Guinness Book of Records. We load up the rucksacks with lots of pensionerish grumbling and moaning and wander off into town in search of more bargains. Atherstone is busy in the bright sunshine and we wander around with our shopping list looking for oddments and find a cute little coffee shop in a side street. We came out loaded down with goodies - home made bread pudding (Carl’s favourite) and a Chicken and Leek pie for tea. I was looking forward to that pie all the rest of the day - I popped it in the oven after we moored up that evening and it smelled divine as I prepared the veg and gravy to go with it, Imagine my dismay when I cut into it to serve it up and found it was a steak and mushroom - not something I can eat. Carl managed 2/3rds of the pie and Tricky helped out too but I had to make do with the sausage that I’d saved from yesterday for Tricky’s dinner. Very disappointing after a hard days boating.

The Coffee Shop, Atherstone

We moored overnight at Sutton Wharf and walked up to the Battle of Bosworth site through the woods. Tricky, who has been reluctant to walk for a while now, was suddenly rejuvenated and went bounding ahead, sniffing every tuft of grass and tree trunk in absolute ecstasy. Carl popped into the gift shop and bought a book while Tricky and I wandered around the Exhibition Centre and found the stocks - always good for a joke photo! We returned to the Centre this morning to visit the craft market, full of treasures to tempt the money out of your purse. I succumbed to a pricey packet of wax melts and a burner (for the nights when Tricky’s perfume is less than sweet!) and a ginormous Scotch Egg for Carl. The sun came out and we hurried back to the boat and set off to travel the few miles to this rural mooring and a peaceful afternoon with my book (another Nicci French).

Not putting my head in there!

That’s all from me for this week my friends. I'm looking forward to reaching the end of the Ashby to see if they've reclaimed any more of the old canal. After that, we turn and start making our way back through Hinckley and then it's a steady chug to Market Harborough. Take care everyone.

Love from

The Floating Chandlers

PS Spotted our first Kingfisher of the year this week, always a delight.

PPS Are you boating along with us vicariously? Let me know if you are. I had to look it up! Thanks to my learned friend for that scrumptious word - you know who you are!

Tithe Barn, Bosworth Exhibtion Centre

Donkeys in the Daffodils

Bad selfie

The Captain

Stoke Golding

Cold day on the tiller

Cowslips

Early butterfly

Waiting to be reclaimed

Beautiful blossom

Spring Sunshine

Tattenhill Lock

Morning Jotters

What a glorious week of sunshine we’ve had. The hawthorn has greened up and the blackthorn blossom is startlingly white against a backdrop of bare branches and briars. A mallard pops out of the reeds, his brilliant male plumage shimmering blue and green in the sunlight and a pair of swans are billing and cooing in the reed bed, patting the strands into place ready for precious eggs to be nurtured. The robin, wren and blackbird accompany us along the way, singing their spring songs, so I join in and add my voice to the chorus, singing along to the radio and a man walking by called out ‘Nice voice’. I was mightily pleased with that compliment and so I’ve continued warbling all week. Carl says he likes to hear me ‘twittering’ - not sure how to take that!

Daffodils at Wychnor

Since we left the marina last Friday, we’ve been hanging around all our usual haunts, waiting for a visit from the Inspector to grant us a new Boat Safety Certificate. Iain came along on Friday morning and after a quick cup of tea, disappeared into various cupboards and delved down into the engine room to make sure we were ship shape and seaworthy. It’s always a relief to pass the inspection and after another cup of tea and a good bit of boaty yarning, we set off back the way we had come and moored in solitary splendour on the river at Wychnor. I looked back through my photos and, almost without exception, we have moored in this spot, at this time of the year, in bright sunshine. We mourn the loss of our favourite mooring spots as houses are built where there were once only fields and factory units spring up to fill in the spaces between canal and road, so we treasure the spots that remain unspoilt. The little church at Wychnor winks down at us from the top of the hill and the daffodils nod as we pass by and squeeze through the narrow bridge on our way to Alrewas. We come up the lock and Carl gets on the water point while I walk along the towpath to find us a mooring for the day. The towpath is thronging with walkers and cyclists and I chat away to an old chap and his ageing Labrador , both of whom are crippled with age and they stop every few yards to rest. Everyone is cheerful in the warm sunshine, smiling and passing the time of day and, once we are moored up, I start the onerous task of scrubbing the cratch cover again. It is looking slightly more respectable now and I have a firm commitment from a manufacturer in Kinver to make us a new cover, if we take our boat to him, rather than him coming out to measure us up. That isn’t at all what we were planning for this year - we had several thoughts, Leicester Ring first then maybe down to the Thames and finally a trip up the Witham. I wonder where we’ll end up - sometimes its nice just to set out and see where you get to.

Magnolia in Alrewas

My daughter had planned a Mother’s Day surprise visit - the whole clan were coming over from Shropshire to spend the day with us but Claire was struck down with a bug on Friday and couldn’t come, so we had all the fun of a day with the grandchildren while Claire had a lonely day at home in bed. Missed you Claire - come and find us as soon as you’re better. They(the grandchildren) arrived in skimpy summer clothes and sandals only to find that the sun had deserted us and the day was overcast with stubborn clouds. Undeterred, we set out from Alrewas and chugged up the locks to Fradley. I had threatened them with egg sandwiches but was over ruled and we trooped off to find food in The Swan pub. Of course, it was heaving! What did we expect on Mothers Day! We found sanctuary in the cafe on the holiday park and wolfed down burgers and paninis and massive slices of cake to celebrate the day. Carl and I haven’t been able to face anything else since then although I’ve been drinking gallons of tea from my new Mothers Day mug, which could double as a paddling pool if the weather turns hot again!

Crowded Boat

We waved the grandchildren off down the towpath in the late afternoon and immediately cast off and chugged up to the Junction Lock, as the sun, at last, came out. We turned onto the Coventry Canal and had an evening cruise and moored as dusk was falling. I’ve been looking for my slippers all evening, where can they be? Once you’ve looked under the chairs and in the steps, there’s really no place for them to hide. I suspect a practical joke by those pesky grandkids!! Will I find them in the oven or under the duvet? I’ll let you know where they eventually turn up.

Alrewas House decoration

Carl is putting Tricky out for her final sniff along the towpath before bed, while I finish this week’s missive. We have all been sleeping really well since we got back to the boat. This morning it was 9.30 before I surfaced. I threw back the covers and leapt out of bed thinking I had so much to do before the visitors arrived and then Carl reminded me that the clocks went forward and it was really 8.30, no rush then! It’s the same every year, I spend the first week translating the time back and saying to Carl ‘but it’s really only 9pm’ when he starts shutting down the fire ready for bed at 10pm. Is it just me?

Sunnies and Sandals in March!

I hope you’ve all had a good week and enjoyed the sunshine. I’m afraid that the coming week is looking less inviting and my big coat is still hanging ready in the wardrobe rather than banished under the bed till next year. I’ll get off to bed now although its really only just 10 pm, I have a good book and the double duvet is till on. Night Night everyone

Love from
The Floating Chandlers

ps Not many photos again, I'll try to do better this week (embarrassed face emoji)

pps We seem to be eating in most of the photos - I must find more interesting subjects to photograph!

Brunch at the Marina

Swans enjoying the sunshine

Tea in Burton

Tricky hugging the stove

New Boat by Kent Bridge

Grandchildren

Double Duvet Deployed!

Tricky is pleased to be back.

Hello again

Phew! A heatwave in March! What a terrific start to the boating year. After a whirlwind of packing, we set off well before coffee time and by mid afternoon we had unloaded the car, watered up (filled the boat tank with water) and without a care in the world, we reversed out of our mooring to begin our spring cruise around the Leicester Ring. Well, that was the plan – more of that later. The Lady Aberlour looks well after her long winter sleep although Carl is already itching to start the long list of painting jobs that are necessary to keep our Lady looking regal. The cratch cover has had a battering and looked very sorry for itself and it's gone crinkly which is a very bad sign for a vinyl cover. It should be black but the green algae has spread along the gunwhales and the side panels have shrunk even more so that the zip won’t close. The rain has driven in through the gap and poured into the coal box making a revolting black soup. Carl grimaced when he saw it and said he would deal with it later. Luckily, there wasn't anyone around to witness Carl wiping the coal and replacing it in the dried out coal box. Inevitably, someone would have asked him why he was washing the coal!

First lock of the year

So there we were chugging along in the sunshine, Carl on the tiller, me in my usual spot, leaning on the hatch and Tricky peering out through the back doors. It feels good to be back afloat! We made a brew and I just had time to drink it before we reached Wood End, the first of the Fradley Locks. Someone has made a great effort to welcome boaters to this very picturesque lock - teapots decorate the lock bridge wall and planters filled with daffodils line up along the lock side. It’s a nice easy, narrow lock and we are soon chugging along towards Fradley Junction and the Swan pub. The canals are still fairly quiet but the tow path was busy with walkers and runners. The tables outside the pub in Fradley were full and there was the usual audience watching us locking down and I was embarrassed to realise that I had forgotten to pick up the locking leg when I tried to open the gate. After several attempts to move the stubborn gate, it dawned on me and I tried not to catch anyone’s eye as I quickly slotted the leg into the retaining hooks and the gate swung open by itself - just to make it really obvious.

We had planned to moor in Alrewas on Friday night but we abandon that idea when we are held up by a ‘Skipper in Training’ who just couldn’t get her boat into the next lock. I tried willing her in but it took an age before, finally, the bows lined up and the boat slipped through the narrow entrance. Anyone who has tried steering a narrowboat will remember the frustration of trying to get to grips(literally) with a tiller- even after all these years we still can’t always get through a lock without scraping against something. That’s why there is always painting to be done.( Downcast emoji with sweat) We followed on slowly through another lock before giving up hope of reaching Alrewas before dark. We pulled over and Carl bashed in some mooring pins. We put the kettle on and called it a day.

Frog by moonlight

That evening there was a full (Worm) moon, tinted rose as it hung low in the darkening sky. The tow path was alive with amphibians (I couldn’t decide if they were frogs or toads) and we shut the doors against the chill creeping in with the dusk and retired to the warmth of the cosy cabin, where the stove was already glowing. We cleared a space so we could get to the bed and made it up ready to crawl into later on. Moving day is always the same, cram all the bags and boxes in anywhere and sort it out as we go along. I did wonder if we needed a thicker quilt but I was too tired to look for it. I regretted that decision when we woke at 6am feeling decidedly chilly. The stove had gone out and Tricky came to tell us what she thought about that by trying to jump up on our bed. Carl to the rescue, my hero! He soon had the stove going and both kettles steaming on the hob.

We set off after breakfast to complete our journey into Alrewas. It was another brilliant morning, breezy and sharp with a hint of warmth to come later. We chugged up to the next lock and once we got through, I closed the gates and walked along the tow path with Tricky, following Carl towards the church. Our favourite spot by the churchyard was free and here we still are, enjoying the beautiful blossoms in the gardens around us especially the magnolia and camellia. The Co-op is just a short walk away and our cool box is still delivering up the last of the freezer meals from home, spag bol, beef casserole and chinese chicken curry. By the time they are gone I'll have replenished our stores and got back into the swing of making something that resembles food from 2 withered carrots and an out of date tin of spam. I’m just joking folks - we do have a fridge and tomorrow I will be stocking up with sausages from the famous Coates Butchers.

Last night was another cold night so I made up the bed with both duvets and revelled in the luxury of a double duvet – we won't be cold under that lot although I could hardly move with a ton of duvet on top of me. Just to be absolutely sure of keeping warm, I’ve been in the ‘big drawer’ under the bed and found my warmest PJ’s and searched high and low for the hot water bottles, which I found eventually tucked away in a box under the sink.

It does take a while to remember where things are after so long away - I found my friend, the collapsible bucket- so useful when you need a bucket that folds flat. I refilled the chubby chrome sugar bowl and popped the salt pot on the trivet to dry out. The butter melted to oil on the stove before I could rescue it but Carl must have bread and butter with his Sunday egg so he didn’t complain. We forgot a few important things, in spite of my excel spreadsheet entitled ‘Going Boating’ which has a matching one called ‘Going Home’ which is equally comprehensive but you cannot completely rule out the need to actually remember to look at it - which I didn’t because Carl packed the laptop! Best laid plans etc... I shall write a song about it called ‘Isn’t it Ironic’ - a dozen tea towels when all you need is a comb. I doubt it will get much airtime.

Speaking of plans - we have already had to change ours as there is a stoppage preventing us from reaching the River Soar and Leicester so we have invoked Plan B - a trip up the Ashby to Hinckley so I can catch a train to Leicester for yet more dental work. It’s not a hardship - we love the Ashby and its a while since we last went that way.

I only meant to write a short note to say ‘Hello’ after all what is there to say when we’ve only just set out?(cheeky wink emoji)

I'll write more next week. Take care everyone

Love from

The Floating Chandlers

ps Not many photos yet - not had time to take any.

pps please send me a hug, I've missed you all 

Bats and Stick Insects

 

Stenson Deep Lock

Morning Jotters

Can you believe it? The dratted sun is out now!! After the greyest August on record, we are finally bathed in the warmth of glorious sunshine just as we decide to head for home. We’re dragging our feet down this last stretch, visiting our favourite moorings and lingering through the villages, reluctant to reach the marina and moor up after our long trip.

Ratcliffe Flood Lock

This week we have travelled from Loughborough to Wychnor and tonight we are moored on our favourite river mooring just outside Alrewas We ventured into Loughborough on Bank Holiday Monday and reached the basin to find that all the pontoons were full. Carl squeezed us onto the quayside, which is not really a mooring but he managed to tie up to the railings while I nipped here and there to get our supplies. I was disappointed not to get a mooring as I was looking forward to wandering into town for coffee and cake but Carl went off for milk and came back with flowers for my birthday and the day was saved. Onward towards Zouch, along the river which looks so pretty when the sun shines but is just steely and grey under the cloudy skies. We moor up and watch the wind whipping the trees along the bank and light the stove to banish the chills. A typical English Bank Holiday.

Up the Trent to Sawley

We shared the journey from Zouch to Ratcliffe with a young couple, out on their boat for the first time. They had bought the boat for a song and were gradually doing it up. I hope for their sake that it isn't a cold winter this year - it can be tricky to get the hang of keeping your stove going through the night and without that, you will wake up with icicles on your nose. Still, they are young and will soon get the hang of it or, if they don’t, the boat will be back on the market come the spring. We lost them after Ratcliffe Lock - I worried about them as we turned onto the Trent, in case they had broken down but they chugged past after we’d moored for the day at Derwent Lock and waved so I guess I’ll never know what happened to them. That’s the thing about boating partnerships, some are fleeting and leave you wanting more and some make you sigh with relief as they chug off into the distance. Today, our peace was shattered when a boat moored close by with Fog Horn Leghorn aboard. In fact, everyone on board had their volume turned up to 11 and we felt like we knew them intimately after just a few minute of listening to them discussing their boating day. We pulled the boat back several boat lengths to escape them and diluted their conversation with our music player. It was a massive relief when they set off again and our peace was restored. Their loud voices were audible long after their boat disappeared!

Sawley to Shardlow

We were up early on Wednesday and met a boat at every lock as we left Shardlow and tackled the last of the remaining broad locks up to Stenson. We stopped for coffee and cake at Swarkestone Garden Centre and while we were there, a message popped up from our friends on the Naga Queen to say they were on there way. Hurray! We celebrated with Prosecco (thanks Jean-Bean) and a nice bottle of red wine later that evening and put the world to rights while Tricky perfumed the air, overcome with joy at seeing her best pals again.

Paired up at Stenson

We planned to eat out at Stenson on Thursday night so the next morning we had a pleasant chug for all of 3 miles and one lock to the moorings by the Stenson Bubble. There was a bit of confusion about where we could sit, all the doors were open downstairs and at first we were seated in a draft by the door. I went off to check out the gin stocks and when I enquired about another table, they found us a cosy spot upstairs - I must have looked like I was going to spend my pension on their gin! It’s a few years since we visited this pub, we had our works leaving party here in 2008, and I can’t help reflecting on the happy times we have had boating since that time. We ended the night back on the Naga Queen and had so much fun we decided to have one last night with them before they had to go home. We arranged to meet the following night at bridge 25, a favourite mooring spot for them and us. 

Dinner at the Bubble

We left Stenson and chugged onward the next morning, still under grey, drizzly skies. I left Carl watering up at the services in Willington, while I trotted off to the Co-Op for supplies. There was a drama occurring outside the shop - a car had gone into the ditch and an elderly chap who was driving the crashed car was sitting on a bench, looking traumatised. The street was blocked with emergency vehicles and police and fire crew milled about while paramedics attended to the driver. A recovery vehicle turned up and as I walked back to the boat, an ‘Incident Support’ vehicle arrived with his sirens blaring, he was a bit late but maybe he was bringing the refreshments. It gladdened my heart to see that, in an emergency, the 999 response can still be relied on. 

The Captain Looking Serious

We were very sorry to part company with the Naga Queen as she slipped onto her moorings next morning and they waved us off towards Burton. The narrow locks are a joy and a delight after so long on the broad locks - a bit like taking your boots off and finding your slippers after walking a marathon. I was a teeny bit hungover after our three nights of carousing with Pat and Malc - I might have got a little carried away with the Baileys (glum faced emoji). We had planned to walk into Burton but after we’d backed onto the diesel pump in Shobnall Marina and loaded up with coal and gas supplies, we just wanted to get to Branston and call it a day. I was really looking forward to an early night but a boat arrived in after dark with searchlights blazing and immediately struck up his generator. The noise was magnified as he had chose to moor under a bridge and I hung out of the hatch listening to the racket and hoping he would soon switch off. Then the fireworks started somewhere over Branston Village so I gave up and went to find my earplugs. As I closed the hatch, I glimpsed a bat swooping along the canal, caught in the headlights of the boat behind us – wow! I wish I could capture that image – it was spooky! Every cloud, as they say.

Leaving Naga Queen on her moorings

I think this will be the final Jotting for this year and I'm looking forward to taking a break from talking to you via the blog and to be meeting up with you in real life again. See you soon, I hope.

Love from

The Floating Chandlers


ps Almost mown down by the rush of pensioners in the garden centre, we arrived just as lunch was served. Some things never change.

is this a Stick Insect?

Pps On the nature table this week is a thing that looks like a Stick Insect. It hopped aboard and kicked the ornaments off the bookcase before Carl ejected it. Have a look at the photo – what on earth is it??

Let's Have Some Cake!

Leafy Lock 

Morning Jotter

Captain Carl here on jottings duty. Hello again, dear reader. Can you believe it? We're almost into September! I have some exciting dates for you to enter into your diary for the coming month:-

3rd Sept: “Bring Your Manners To Work” Day.

9th Sept: “Buy A Vicar A Beer” Day.

19th Sept: International “Talk Like A Pirate Day”.

Looking ahead, I’m looking forward to 2nd of January, which is “Run It Up The Flagpole And See If Anyone Salutes It” Day.

Early Morning Reflections

Well, so much for the calendar. Back to boating. Last Sunday we were near Debdale Wharf on the Leicester Arm of the Grand Union Canal. We sprang into action on Monday morning, cast off, and were soon approaching Saddington tunnel. This tunnel (like the tunnels at Braunston, Crick and Husband Bosworth) is wide enough for two boats to pass. Having said that, driving a boat through the bowels of the earth without meeting a craft coming the other way is always preferable and today we were lucky – we had the tunnel to ourselves. The tow path on the other side of the tunnel had been reclaimed by Mother Nature and was no longer there. A shame for anyone who might have walked over the hill hoping to rejoin their boat on the other side.

Kibworth Top Lock

Soon after leaving the tunnel we came to Kibworth Top Lock, the first of around forty between us and Sawley, on the River Trent. These are all wide locks and quite heavy work. Usually, wives, girlfriends or mistresses deal with locks. I don’t know why, but there it is. Husbands, boyfriends or paramours are delegated to merely piloting the boat. Linda is no exception to the rule and I often feel guilty, standing at the tiller of the Lady Aberlour, watching Linda heaving on the heavy gates but she insists that's her job!

Down in the Depths of Freeman's Lock

An empty lock chamber is a gloomy place. Dripping walls, strange plants hanging from the bricks and outlandish shrimp-like things squirming here and there. Then the pounding of water as the paddles are raised and the chamber begins to fill. Slowly the boat rises up, buffeted by the sudden turbulence. Eventually the swirling currents subside and the lock is full. The last bit in a nutshell: gate opens, boat comes out, paddles are lowered, gate closed again and crew back on board. Job done. We're always happy to see a boat approaching so we can leave the gates open!

Pound overflowing into the lock.

A few weeks ago I would have called the next paragraph a rant. However, seeing what’s happening in Afghanistan, I am reminded of how fortunate I am to be living in England. It would be shameful of me to moan and whinge about petty irrelevances. So the next section is a mere 'observation'.

We've noticed that many parts of the canal network are showing a general air of neglect. Locks crying out for maintenance, paddle-gear broken and gates leaking like sieves. The navigation choked with rushes, reeds and overhanging trees. Protruding brick/stonework by narrow bridges, obscured by brambles and saplings. Some tow-paths totally overgrown, impassable and abandoned; the list goes on. The demise is evident for mile after mile of canal. Maybe this is some sort of “rewilding”. While the concept is admirable, people could be forgiven for thinking that its just an excuse to do nothing, save money and let the canals slowly become silted-up weedy ditches...

Just room to squeeze through!

After travelling through Leicester we arrived in Birstall, where we moored just above Birstall lock. It’s a lovely mooring here, the cutting to one side and the Water Park on the other. Shops are close by, so its a really handy place to stop. There was a social vibe going on, too; on Wednesday afternoon we met up with some friends of ours, Jan and Keith, and enjoyed a couple of hours chatting, drinking coffee and eating some delicious home made cake (thank you Jan!). Coincidently, the next morning was international “see Keith And Jan Again, Enjoy Some Good Company, And Have Some More Coffee And Delicious Cake” Day. So that’s what we did. It was nice to “catch up”.

Birstall Mooring

On Friday, Jean and Eric came over for a visit. The subject of a cruise was broached, put to the vote and, being a unanimous result, we threw the lines off and made our way downstream to Thurmaston. There are nice picnic moorings through Thurmaston lock, but unfortunately they were all taken. Heading further downstream for half a mile we found a secluded place to tie up for lunch. “What’s this?” I thought to myself. Yes, Jean had baked an apple cake! I’ve been thoroughly spoiled. Home made cake for the third day in a row. Living the dream, eh? We had an enjoyable afternoon walking around a nearby lake and finding a handy ice cream van to round off the day. Both Jean and Eric are keen walkers and walked back to their car after tea rather than us take them back on the boat, which was nice of them as it would have been a tight spot to turn in. We'd noticed a gang of youths showing an unhealthy interest in our boat, gawping through our windows as they swaggered by. I didn’t he look of them so as soon as Jean and Eric left, we cast off and found a more “secure feeling” mooring a couple of miles further down the river. Better safe than sorry.

Carl in the Weed Hatch

We were up with a late lark on Saturday morning and wasted no time in getting underway. The weather was disappointing, as it has been most of this week. Cloudy and chilly. We were hoping to moor at Sileby Milll, around two miles and three locks away. Linda got us though Junction, Cossington and Sileby Mill locks and, as luck would have it, there was just space for us to squeeze in behind a wide-beam boat. Phew, close call folks. Then the sun came out and brightened things up.

Sileby Mill 

Jim and Elaine, the last of this week’s visitors, arrived yesterday afternoon and we spent several very pleasant hours drinking tea, walking along the riverbank, chatting and laughing. An extremely nice pizza, followed by cheese and biscuits and strawberries for tea. Before we knew it, it was time for our last visitors to leave. Sad face emoji. We left Sileby Mill just after 09.00 this morning and cruised down the river to Bridge 34, which is handy for Loughborough tomorrow and a “big shop”. Next week we will be back on the Trent and Mersey, heading for our new home mooring at Kings Bromley. Linda will be back on the keyboard as I expect it will be the last jotting for a while.

Bye for now, love from

The Floating Chandlers

ps Entertainment this week was provided by numerous day boats let out along the Soar to terrorise everyone with their antics.  We were very happy to moor up and hope that we were safe in the lee of the wide beam behind us.

Lovely Lilies

Spreading along the Soar - escaped from a pond and becoming a weed

Last rays of sun

The Locks are deep along here

Tricky is happy to stop for lunch

Down in the weed hatch again!

Autumn Fields

Paddle broken - awaiting a repair

Heron by the Soar

Floating Debris by Lime Kiln Lock

Graffiti or Art?

North Lock