We turned from the Grand Union onto the Oxford canal this
morning, and they really are so different, as was the Stratford canal before
the Grand Union. They have different
lock mechanisms, different bridges, and even different coloured water,
depending on the kind of land the canal was cut from.
For instance, bridges on the Stratford Canal all have this split in the middle - it was to allow the ropes from the horses to pass through so you didn't have to unhitch them. I find this amazing, but Mike knows all this.
He was taken boating by his parents and hated it because “it’s boring - all
they do is dawdle along at three miles an hour and stop at pubs.” One of the
pleasures of this trip, for him, is seeing through my eyes all the things he
didn’t realise he’d forgotten. I can’t
quite see what his problem was with the pace of canal life or the pubs, but I
suppose he was only 12 or so at the time.
He’s getting the hang of it now, for sure :)
Meanwhile, I’ve taken to this like a duck to water (and we’ve
seen a lot of those, not to mention herons, kingfishers, moorhens, dragonflies,
and one very beautiful leopard moth sunning itself on a canalside woodpile –
which was also one of the neatest woodpiles I’ve ever seen).
I am still completely awed by the simple cleverness/clever
simplicity of locks; it is, after all, pretty amazing for boats to be able to
travel uphill. There’s also the
etiquette involved, which is mainly down to water-saving but also involves
politeness: if you’re going uphill and
the lock is empty, in you go - but if it’s full and there’s a boat approaching
from the other direction, you wait for them to come down first (which involves
emptying the lock, thereby making it ready for you to go in once they’ve come
out. Sorry if this is completely obvious to you, but I’m still having to work
it out).
So far so good, but yesterday I
took the view that a narrowboat coming down THREE locks ahead couldn’t
reasonably be described as “approaching”…
The boating community is supposed to be very friendly, and I’ve
found that to be mostly true. Not this
time, though: as our boats passed there
were dark mutterings of ‘Tupperware’ and ‘yoghurt pot’ - common insults hurled
at gorgeous little plastic boats like ours, how very dare they – but then they
told me that GRP cruisers and hire boats simply shouldn’t be allowed on the
canals! We’ve seen more of this than we’d
like, and it’s sad to realise that snobbery is alive and well even in this last
bastion of freedom. We are thinking of
re-naming the boat Activia (though sorely tempted by a temporary sign saying Foxtrot Oscar).
But generally, all is calm, lovely, and the best holiday I’ve
ever had. We’re moored up at Napton tonight
– there’s a pub and shop right next to the canal, and we have full water, empty
bins and bog, and enough gas and petrol to see us through to the next bit.
Nathan and Laura are well and happy too, so
all in all - just wow, really. Life will undoubtedly come and bite us in
the arse again at some point, but we’d have to be idiots not to enjoy the
smooth sailing/cruising while it lasts.
Hoping to see Pete and Jackie somewhere near here soon, and
then Gary early next week in Oxford – and you are all welcome to do the same. Carisbrooke/Boaty
McBoatface/Activia/Foxtrot Oscar only sleeps two (and even then it’s so compact that
we have to be extraordinarily patient with one another J), but if you have a
campervan, a tent, or the money for a night in a canalside B&B, you are
very welcome to see for yourselves how calming and beautiful the inland
waterways are. We’d make you a nice lunch
too – we’re professionals, after all…
Talking of catering, Pete has sent me the link to the Microwave
Cheffery Song. It cheered me up no end
at the time, but alas failed to prolong my career as a campsite warden. Oh
well.
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