One of the principal reasons for moving to Market Bosworth was that we would have more to do than when we were at Braunston. This weekend kind of confirmed that we had done the right thing. We made our way to Bosworth Marina on Thursday evening as usual and settled in for the evening, the continuing warm weather makes one forget that autumn is upon us but the early sunset is a stark reminder that we are just ten weeks away from the shortest day of the year!
I went to work on Friday and left Sue to her own devices on what turned out to be an absolutely beautiful day. By the time I returned to Caxton, Sue had been up to town and shopped for dinner. The leg of lamb and the fresh veg made for an excellent meal eaten out on the front deck for maybe the last time this year.
It was a bit dull on Saturday morning so after a lazy start we walked up to town and paid a visit to the butcher, the fruit shop, the newsagent and then the bar of the Red Lion for a light refreshment. After we had returned to the boat we decided to drive the short distance to nearby Coalville and have a look around. I’ve never been to the town before and it’s been a few years since Sue has visited but it was a worthwhile trip because there is a good variety of shops there, plenty of parking and, most importantly, a Wetherspoons! After a good wander around, we drove back to the marina and decided to go out for a cruise. It was almost five o’clock when we emerged on to the cut and headed off in a northerthly direction. The sun was bright but was being dragged to the horizon like a giant circular kite being pulled in by a child after a day’s play. The journey was lovely, the sinking sun casting long shadows and picking out the yellow and orange leaves still clinging to the trees, the green leaves trying to convince us that winter is still a long way off. We encountered no boats on the way and were amazed to find the visitor moorings at Shackerstone completely empty. We tied up and then enjoyed the lamb chops that we had bought earlier in the day accompanied by the vegetables from the local fruit and veg shop.
It was misty when we awoke on Sunday morning so we decided to walk to the station at Shackerstone and have a bite to eat. The moorings to the north of the village bridge were almost empty but we noticed that our old friend Jim was tied up there so we resolved to drag him to the pub on our return.
We spent an hour at the station with a light lunch thrown in for good measure but by the time we reached the canal again, Jim had gone.
We returned to Caxton, cast off and headed to the winding hole before starting our return journey. We pretty much had the canal to ourselves again as we made our way back in the direction of Market Bosworth on yet another unseasonably lovely day. We found Jim moored between Congerstone and Market Bosworth, slowed, gave him a bottle of beer and had a chat. Not quite like going to the pub but the next best thing. We’ve made a tentative arrangement to meet in a couple of weeks time but we’ll have to see how that works out. Eventually we reached bridge 42 and pulled on to the water point and filled the water tank before we chugged into the marina and found our berth.
We decided to have another night on board so we walked up the hill to town and had dinner at the Red Lion. It was dark when we made our way homeward down the hill but we were soon in the comfort of the lounge of Caxton where we relaxed and watched some telly in front of the fire which was burning some Irish turf.