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The new kitchen

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The locks of the Stratford canal that I'm now on are narrow and very rickety, there is very little traffic. The quiet of the canal allows you to hear every detail of every vehicle roaring down the M40.

But things are looking up now its a pleasure cruise. Was passing a pub called the fleur de lys when an elderly pack of walkers recommended i stop and try it. Its THE place where fleur de lys pies were first baked ... the recipe later sold to pukka pies.

It turns out they also flog one if my favourite beers ... Timmy Taylor landlord.

And have WiFi that reaches my mooring.

Reasons to putter on - zero.
 

The locks of the Stratford canal that I'm now on are narrow and very rickety, there is very little traffic. The quiet of the canal allows you to hear every detail of every vehicle roaring down the M40.

But things are looking up now its a pleasure cruise. Was passing a pub called the fleur de lys when an elderly pack of walkers recommended i stop and try it. Its THE place where fleur de lys pies were first baked ... the recipe later sold to pukka pies.

It turns out they also flog one if my favourite beers ... Timmy Taylor landlord.

And have WiFi that reaches my mooring.

Reasons to putter on - zero.
'whatever you desire' ;)
 
The locks of the Stratford canal that I'm now on are narrow and very rickety, there is very little traffic. The quiet of the canal allows you to hear every detail of every vehicle roaring down the M40.

But things are looking up now its a pleasure cruise. Was passing a pub called the fleur de lys when an elderly pack of walkers recommended i stop and try it. Its THE place where fleur de lys pies were first baked ... the recipe later sold to pukka pies.

It turns out they also flog one if my favourite beers ... Timmy Taylor landlord.

And have WiFi that reaches my mooring.

Reasons to putter on - zero.
Love a happy ending.



Nearly 'kin crying here
 
How many miles has it been? 100 or 180 I can't remember. How many locks? 100 or 180. Everything has melded into one muddy exhausting rain sodden hell, with the only thing to lift my spirits being Everton's dominating of the league and Cup.

Today is the final stretch... a mile out of Stratford, 16 or so locks, then onto the Avon and into home moorings. Every obstacle made by man has been beaten, every deadline met with time to spare due to grit and determination.

I'm puttering through the rain so we can go home tomorrow, job done. The rain is entering through the neck of my waterproofs, fining its way down inside my clothing and dribbling out of my trouser leg into my boot. At least I think its rain. Ranked its too cold to tell.

We get a message to check the river state of the Avon. Its "on red." Red is NEVER a good colour. Red means high levels and high flow rates. Red means you really shouldn't try moving a boat. But it's only 1 mile of river when we get there and 1 bridge to negotiate. I've driven boats on Red before ... a cruiser and a Dutch barge. But never a narrowboat .... not built for rivers as I've explained time and time again to the female who chose the river mooring.

So here we are, 100m from the finishing tape of the marathon I've run, having to stop and await the floodwaters to subside. Having to wait for the flood caused a sprinkling of rain in the last week to subside, which will take at least a week, in the hope that it doesn't rain next week too. In the middle of winter. On a 2 day only mooring.

Arse!
 
How many miles has it been? 100 or 180 I can't remember. How many locks? 100 or 180. Everything has melded into one muddy exhausting rain sodden hell, with the only thing to lift my spirits being Everton's dominating of the league and Cup.

Today is the final stretch... a mile out of Stratford, 16 or so locks, then onto the Avon and into home moorings. Every obstacle made by man has been beaten, every deadline met with time to spare due to grit and determination.

I'm puttering through the rain so we can go home tomorrow, job done. The rain is entering through the neck of my waterproofs, fining its way down inside my clothing and dribbling out of my trouser leg into my boot. At least I think its rain. Ranked its too cold to tell.

We get a message to check the river state of the Avon. Its "on red." Red is NEVER a good colour. Red means high levels and high flow rates. Red means you really shouldn't try moving a boat. But it's only 1 mile of river when we get there and 1 bridge to negotiate. I've driven boats on Red before ... a cruiser and a Dutch barge. But never a narrowboat .... not built for rivers as I've explained time and time again to the female who chose the river mooring.

So here we are, 100m from the finishing tape of the marathon I've run, having to stop and await the floodwaters to subside. Having to wait for the flood caused a sprinkling of rain in the last week to subside, which will take at least a week, in the hope that it doesn't rain next week too. In the middle of winter. On a 2 day only mooring.

Arse!
Good luck in the "Red Zone" so many reasons to joke here but I'm erring on stay safe.

Forwards and Onwards just like the Blue........oh wait!
 

How many miles has it been? 100 or 180 I can't remember. How many locks? 100 or 180. Everything has melded into one muddy exhausting rain sodden hell, with the only thing to lift my spirits being Everton's dominating of the league and Cup.

Today is the final stretch... a mile out of Stratford, 16 or so locks, then onto the Avon and into home moorings. Every obstacle made by man has been beaten, every deadline met with time to spare due to grit and determination.

I'm puttering through the rain so we can go home tomorrow, job done. The rain is entering through the neck of my waterproofs, fining its way down inside my clothing and dribbling out of my trouser leg into my boot. At least I think its rain. Ranked its too cold to tell.

We get a message to check the river state of the Avon. Its "on red." Red is NEVER a good colour. Red means high levels and high flow rates. Red means you really shouldn't try moving a boat. But it's only 1 mile of river when we get there and 1 bridge to negotiate. I've driven boats on Red before ... a cruiser and a Dutch barge. But never a narrowboat .... not built for rivers as I've explained time and time again to the female who chose the river mooring.

So here we are, 100m from the finishing tape of the marathon I've run, having to stop and await the floodwaters to subside. Having to wait for the flood caused a sprinkling of rain in the last week to subside, which will take at least a week, in the hope that it doesn't rain next week too. In the middle of winter. On a 2 day only mooring.

Arse!

That reads like the final words of Colonel Kurtz in Apocalypse Now.
 
Its not red. I don't know what site the female looked at, but I just looked and river levels are normal but rising tonight.

Which means we could have made it if she hadn't phoned ahead to the typically fearful authorities who do their best to scare you off to protect their arsed.

Now there isn't enough day left to manage the flight into Stratford and finish the journey. So we'll have to wait a week anyway to do the last few miles because we won't be able to go through tomorrow as the river is projected to be high by then and I have to be home Monday to deal with the failure of yet another British business (tradesparky) who don't deliver what they promise and supervise the installation of a chimney flue from a local heating firm. Oh wait .. that was promised to be Monday too , months ago, but has recently been moved to an optimistic Wednesday.

Its a crushing disappointment not to finish so close tithe end and have to leave the boat on a 2 day mooring for at least a week. But Everton have trained me well to cope with disappointment so its just another day in a rather crappy paradise.
 
Its not red. I don't know what site the female looked at, but I just looked and river levels are normal but rising tonight.

Which means we could have made it if she hadn't phoned ahead to the typically fearful authorities who do their best to scare you off to protect their arsed.

Now there isn't enough day left to manage the flight into Stratford and finish the journey. So we'll have to wait a week anyway to do the last few miles because we won't be able to go through tomorrow as the river is projected to be high by then and I have to be home Monday to deal with the failure of yet another British business (tradesparky) who don't deliver what they promise and supervise the installation of a chimney flue from a local heating firm. Oh wait .. that was promised to be Monday too , months ago, but has recently been moved to an optimistic Wednesday.

Its a crushing disappointment not to finish so close tithe end and have to leave the boat on a 2 day mooring for at least a week. But Everton have trained me well to cope with disappointment so its just another day in a rather crappy paradise.

 

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