We were awake early, before the sun was up but we had our customary tea and then coffee before we finally got out of bed and got dressed. It was nine o’clock exactly when we set off towards Wigrams turn which we reached forty five minutes later. A few minutes later and we were at the first of the Calcutt locks. We dropped through the first one and then waited for two boats to ascend the middle lock before we made our way down and after we crossed over with a single boat we were down and through the bottom lock. It was half past eleven when we finally tied up above the Boat Inn at Stockton, a place that we have stopped on many occasions before.

We walked down to Long Itchington and had a drink in The Duck on the Pond before moving on to the Buck and Bell where we had an excellent lunch.

After walking back up the towpath we just relaxed in the sunshine for a few hours before retiring to the cabin of Phoenix III for the evening.

The weather has been absolutely glorious all week and although we were both thinking about boating this weekend, we were both a bit ‘matter of fact’ about it. We reached Braunston at four o’clock, loaded the few possessions that we had brought, filled the water tank and set off. The breeze, though light forced us to turn right out of the berth and then reverse before we could leave the marina by the main entrance.

Phoenix III ticked over gently as we made our way to the junction and turned left on to the Oxford section of the Grand Union. Within a few minutes it felt as if I had never been away from the boat as I gazed over the roof and down the cut into the distance. With the temperature in the mid twenties and a clear blue sky above it was easy to be deluded into thinking that this was a summer’s day but it was already the first week in September so the sun was already low in the sky.

The trip was very pleasant and we both enjoyed the time we had in the sunshine. We tied up on the little corner between bridges 102 and 103 that we stopped on a few weeks ago. We had a light meal on the back deck and joined the ranks of couples that we had already passed who were sitting either on their boats or on the towpath, eating and drinking.

By seven o’clock the sun had dropped below the hedge and as a result the temperature started to drop, not too cold but enough to push us back inside for the evening.

The final day dawned so we got up and got ready for half past eight. With thirteen locks in six miles we reckoned on a four or four and a half hour trip. We weren’t in a hurry to go but there was no point in delaying our departure either. Two boats had recently left the bottom lock so we found that chamber almost empty when we reached it. We worked up through the flight on our own, there were a couple of boats somewhere behind us but we didn’t meet anything coming down until the fifth lock. The sixth was in our favour and as we approached the top lock we could see that there was some activity there. We waited until the two boats in the lock left and then we used it, this the last of the uphill locks. As we left the lock, we saw a boat from the Ashby hire fleet pull away from the bank. He was almost out of sight by the time we reached Norton junction and within a few more minutes he was gone.

We reached Braunston tunnel half an hour later, switched the headlight on and slipped into the darkness. Immediately, we could see the headlight of an oncoming boat which would actually be the first of six that we would meet in the tunnel! There is easily enough space for two narrowboats to pass in the tunnel, unless that is, you meet them at that little kink of an ‘S’ bend that we all know and love! Naturally enough we met that first boat right at the point where the tunnel bends, where else could it have been? As usual it was a relief to get back into the daylight particularly since the tunnel traffic had been so heavy.

We joined the Ashby boat just above the top lock as they waited for a pair of boats to rise through the lock. The crew turned out to be a German couple who didn’t seem to be getting on with each other too well. They didn’t speak much english, either that or they just didn’t want to converse with us. As we worked the lock we could see that there were two boats in the pound below, heading down and two boats in the next lock coming up. With a volunteer lock keeper on the bank and the crew on one of the boats in the pound more interested in polishing their brasses than moving the boat, it looked like we had all the ingredients for a farcical end to our holiday.

With a steady stream of boats ascending, our passage down was relatively smooth but our German companions gave us a few laughs. As soon as the bottom gates were open on every lock, he was off at full speed, presumably he felt that since had arrived at the top lock first, he should remain in front to the bottom. This suited us because we watched him hit wall after wall, bank after bank all the way down the flight. Better to have someone like that in front of you where you can see them than behind you. At the bottom lock Der Kapitan picked up his wife and zoomed off down the cut, we followed on tickover leaving one gate open for an upcoming boat that was waiting for us to leave. This lock is number 1 of the old Grand Junction canal, we had been as far as number 86, Wide water lock. A few minutes later and we were passing under Butcher’s Bridge, again with the number 1, we had been as far as number 180. Our journey had taken us almost 79 miles away from Braunston, marked along the way by the black GJCCo signs, so it is fitting that our journey ended with this one, just inside the marina itself.

We shuffled our way into the berth and then had a light lunch before we packed up and cleared out the things that we needed to take home. Our long trip was over, the final one of the year, a bit of a slog in places but the weather was good. The boat worked perfectly well, we moored in all of the places that we wanted to and we had some laughs along the way.

We had decided to tackle Blisworth tunnel as early as we were able so after a cup of tea at seven, we chucked on our clothes and set off at half past. We were passing the blacksmith shop at the entrance to the tunnel just a few minutes later and then it was into the darkness. It was easy to see that we were alone in the tunnel as we had hoped because it was possible to see the other end. Our trip through was straightforward enough, not too much water fell on the deck and half an hour later we were popping out of the Blisworth end of the bore. It was cloudy, windy and cool but with no locks to do we quite enjoyed our trip through the Northamptonshire countryside. There wasn’t a lot to remark on, a Gayton based hire boat turning at Blisworth boatyard by reversing into the hole, perhaps that’s what they tell them to do since we watched the same thing happen exactly two weeks ago!

We eventually reached Weedon Bec and tied on the church moorings. We walked down the embankment, through the churchyard and then explored the village and then the sun came out and stayed out for the rest of the day. There are a surprising number of shops tucked away down there and after checking them out we made our way up to the old Ordnance factory with its private canal (now cut off from the GU). We were challenged by the civilian security guard but Sue managed to get a picture anyway. We carried on up the hill until we reached the A45 Northampton to Daventry road we wandered into a large antique store, there are others on each side of this road but they are smaller so we only glanced in their windows. We didn’t buy anything but had a good look around before dropping in to the nearby Wheatsheaf which seems to be a pub/cafe/crèche/somebody’s house. We had another drink over the road in the Heart of England before returning to the towpath and walking back to our mooring.

We untied again and made our way to our next stop near bridge 18, the Heart of the Shires Shopping Village. We had a look around the shops there and bought some cheeses before returning to the boat and resuming our journey. This leg only took ten minutes and we were able to moor opposite Whilton marina just a few yards away from the spot we had occupied on the first night of our holiday. After securing Phoenix III, we took a walk over the lock gates and visited the Chandlery as well as having a look at some of the boats for sale in the marina. It was then a case of getting back to the boat for the last night of our holiday and having dinner.

Last night’s clear skies brought some of the lowest temperatures of the summer. It was chilly when we awoke at six but we could already see the blue sky outside so we knew we were in for a good day. Tea, coffee, usual stuff before setting off from the visitor moorings and working our way up through Cosgrove lock. I filled the water and emptied the toilet above the lock while Sue nipped to the local shop which is on a caravan site nearby where she picked up some bits and pieces. The local church clock was chiming nine when we untied and left the amenity point. We made our way through the countryside in the morning sunshine, a strange sensation with the sun on our backs and a cool wind on our faces. Sue prepared lunch as we went along so that we could eat as soon as we were able to stop.

With no locks and few moored boats it wasn’t even eleven o’clock by the time we reached the bottom lock at Stoke Bruerne. Three boats were on the large water point there and it soon became obvious that they had recently come down through the lock flight. It didn’t take us long to get up through the first five as they were more our less in our favour. Our lone boater ‘mate’ from Fenny Stratford passed us on the towpath with a camera in his hand and declared that he was walking up to check the moorings out. We carried on up through the last two locks and as we did so, the local church chimed out the message that it was midday. We left the top lock before finding a mooring about a hundred yards from the canal museum. We ate lunch, cheese and potato pie (Sue insists on slipping in these vegetarian days, hoping I won’t notice!) and it was delicious especially as we were able to sit outside and eat it.

After lunch we locked up and walked down to the Navigation pub where we had a drink and where we also watched a couple of boats coming up through the locks. First out was a Napton hire boat closely followed by Fenny Stratford man who laughed as he passed us and declared that he had managed to get someone to do all of the locks for him. We saw him later when we returned to our mooring, he pulled in a couple of boat lengths in front of us and then headed in the direction of the museum with his camera slung over his shoulder.

We sat outside for a while and chatted while the trip boat made its way up and down the cut and gongoozlers made their way up and down the footpath. By six o’clock we were inside and settling down for the night.

We were up and about for seven o’clock, ready to resume our trip. A blue sky and flat water gave some promise of a good day for boating. I found a football nestled in between the stern and the bank as I untied the ropes, a fairly new one by the look of it so it was cleaned up and stowed away for future use. Twenty minutes later we had made the short hop to the water point where we carried out our services, Sue started the washing and then made a brief visit to the supermarket before we got under way properly. Grey cloud had formed and there was a little drizzle, not too heavy but persistent enough to get the wet gear on. We worked Leighton lock on our own and then we moved on to the three at Soulbury. A volunteer lock keeper made the job easier for us by helping with gates and paddles. The wind had really started to whip up by the time we reached Stoke Hammond lock. Two boats were ahead of us working down and then a single boat was waiting to come up. Thinking that it was a lone locker, Sue was about to tell him to stay on his boat and she would work the lock. When she discovered that he had a companion who was inside making breakfast, she decided to leave him to his own devices. We were joined by another boat by the time that it was our turn to use the lock. This turned to be the easiest lock that we have done on this trip because the dutch crew of the next boat to come up insisted on doing all of the work.

We passed our lockmates from a couple of days ago as they were driving Poachers Moon back towards Leighton Buzzard. Some waving and a friendly exchange took place before we carried on to Fenny Stratford with its shallow lock and swingbridge. We were joined in that lock by a boat that had pulled over until we passed and then he started off again, separating us from the couple that we had worked the previous lock with. He managed to crash into the lock wall on his way in, I doubt that he cared looking at the state his boat was already in. Anyway, we were quickly through that lock and away but there had been no improvement in the weather at all so a short while later we pulled near The Plough at Simpson. We ate some soup made with home grown tomatoes and waited to see what the weather would do before deciding on our course of action for the rest of the day. The sign on the towpath indicated that Braunston was 37 miles away and we knew that we had 21 locks left to do, all of which translates into around 15 hours travelling.

After a break of an hour or so the rain had stopped so we decided to set off again and try to find a mooring at Campbell Park. We didn’t get one because although there was probably just enough room on the end we had to draw level to make sure. By the time we had pulled up the strong wind prevented us reversing into the space. We would have been helped if the boats already there had shared rings rather than spread themselves out along the bank. We carried on around the edge of Milton Keynes and passed a guy paddling a bathtub! good luck with your trip.

Once we had passed through Wolverton the sun started to push the clouds away and although it was still very windy, by the time we reached the visitor moorings below Cosgrove lock, it felt like the summer had returned. As a celebration we sat down and had a scone with jam and cream each, oh and a gin and tonic too.

No boating today. We spent the day in Leighton Buzzard, dodging the rain and wandering around the shops in the morning. we had lunch in the Swan Hotel before returning to Phoenix III where we sat the storm out for the rest of the afternoon. It was all very cosy with the engine running and the heating on while we watched a bit of television and surfed the internet. When the rain finally stopped we were buffeted by the local canoe club who were racing up and down the canal.

We spent a peaceful night in the Wendover arm of the Grand Union canal and awoke to another day of blue skies. On emerging from inside Phoenix III it was clear that there had been a lot of rain overnight. We set off just before a quarter to nine and enjoyed watching the small fish swimming in the clear water of the canal. As we got closer to the junction with the main line of the canal the water returned to its normal state and the fish were lost to us, ah well it was good while it lasted.

A notice on the ground paddle of the Marsworth top lock informed us that the lock keepers were running water and that we should await their return. In the end, we waited for more than half an hour before we were given the all clear to proceed. By that time we had been joined by nb Moonraker whose crew came from the Brecon Beacons. The passage down the Marsworth flight was made easier because we were accompanied by two volunteer CRT lock keepers. A few boats coming up too meant that we reached the bottom lock in just an hour.

We said farewell to the lockies and continued with Moonraker until they pulled over near Pitstone. We did the next three locks on our own and then we reached the two at Ivinghoe. At the first lock we saw that one of the bottom gates had been left open. After checking that there was nothing coming up, I closed the gate and filled the lock. Once opened, Sue approached the lock and I was joined by a man who apologised for leaving the bottom lock gate open but that he had done so because another boat had been in the bottom lock but had then taken a long time to get out of it. He also said that he was waiting in the lock below for us. Once in the lock and with all gates closed, the upcoming boater appeared and with great sarcasm thanked us for closing the gate. I pointed out that I had looked down to the bridge and seen nothing to which he retorted that I should have walked down to the bend in the canal below. At this point Sue took over the ‘discussion’ and between them they had a fruitful exchange, the detail of which is probably best unpublished and left on the canal bank.

We eventually joined the crew of ‘Poachers Moon’, a narrow beam dutch barge at the next lock. We recounted the events and they told us how the other boater had lost his rope and been delayed and they had helped him. They were great, experienced and pleasant and chatty so we enjoyed our descent with them. Most of the time, they left each lock first but after Church lock we were in front, it’s a strange experience to be followed by something that looks like a ship.

After grove lock we said goodbye, they were travelling to The Globe on the northern side of Leighton Buzzard but we wanted to spend a little time exploring the town. We found a good mooring just before the bridge that links Linslade and Leighton Buzzard and so we tied up and went for a walk. A trip around the shops of LB was followed by a meal and a drink in the local Wetherspoons, for the sake of balance, we stopped off at ‘The golden Bell’, both recommended by one of the local residents – You know who you are!

Being the August bank holiday, the weather had been forecast to be rubbish as usual. It was dry but a bit chilly when we emerged into the daylight. After the usual engine checks we started up and were about to leave when Sue’s new best friend Lindy came out of her (ware)house and told us that if we left we would miss the annual fete. We expressed our sorrow but explained that we really had to move on. We met a few boats on our climb out of Berkhamsted and a number of the locks were in our favour so we made reasonable progress. On two occasions we were hampered by paddles left partly open on the offside, not open enough to be obvious but certainly enough to slow the filling of those locks. The rain started at around eleven when we were working the first of the Dudswell locks. We met two boats coming down the next lock, both crewed by hapless souls. The lockwheeler on the opposite side asked how many gates we would need open and when I said, “one please”, she told me that she would shut her side. She then nipped down the steps and jumped on her boat leaving the gate open. I persuaded the lockwheeler from the other crew to pop round and shut it for me, which he did. By now the entertainment was going on in the pound below. Sue making her way towards the lock was faced with the two boats, one passing on her left, the other trying desperately to get into the side to pick his crew up and succeeding only in blocking the canal at some forty-five degree angle. I pointed out to the other crew member that the next lock was only just around the corner and that she might want to tell the steerer that there was no need to pick anyone up. Sue was annoyed but what she couldn’t see was the water shooting up through the rudder stock and soaking the steerer as he revved the engine at high speed as he tried to execute his manoeuvre.

The rain stopped as we approached Cowroast lock, a lone locker was already in the lock so after telling him that he could get back on his boat, I sorted out the lock and then Sue drove in. A family out for a bank holiday stroll asked us the usual sort of questions that gongoozlers do and of course we were very happy to answer them. Once through, we took on water, emptied the toilet cassettes and dumped our rubbish. I’m always happy when we’ve completed our services but today seemed a bit more special since we had finally reached the Tring summit again although it actually felt like we had reached the summit of Everest!

There would be no more locks before we moored and indeed the next series of locks would be downhill, all the way to Cosgrove. The locks south of Cowroast are just too regularly spaced for our liking, we would rather have them grouped together and then separated by some pounds of a decent length.

It took us exactly an hour to cross the summit, a lonely sort of crossing but with one magnificent highlight. I thought that Sue was inside finishing the washing off, which she was but I hadn’t expected her to emerge with the couple of bacon and egg baguettes and a steaming mug of coffee that she had been secretly making. That unexpected treat really hit the spot and I was fortified once more.

The Grand Junction Inn was busy as we passed by, they were holding a Bank Holiday Beer and Music festival and the visitor moorings were full as a result. We soon reached Marsworth top lock, or “Leg O’ Mutton” lock as it is called in the film “The Bargee”. A day boat was about to emerge from the lock, usual story – six people on board, six on the lockside, both gates open and one on the opposite bank wearing a captains hat shouting instructions. It had never been our intention to descend and we quickly made a left turn on to the Wendover arm. It is a narrow canal that twists its way to its present terminus. We turned around with some difficulty at the end, mainly due to the wind but partly due to the boats that have moored in the winding hole. Anyway, did get round and then returned to the bridge where we moored for the night. We had a little walk around but with the exception of the information boards, there’s not much to see around here. We returned to the boat and just relaxed on the back deck while the sun shone. There were a few light showers in the late afternoon but overall it hadn’t turned out to be as bad as we had expected.

Information about the Wendover Arm can be found here and here.

Last night we moored at Winkwell, just outside the Three Horseshoes, an Inn that dates back to 1535 and is apparently (or should that be apparitionally) haunted? We carried out some research and gave it the thumbs up. Sunday morning dawned and we were off again, making the short hop to the next lock where I had what the stars would call a ‘wardrobe malfunction’. Bending down to pick up the centre rope, my jeans split open behind. Thankfully I still adhere to the rule of my mother who always insisted on me wearing clean underpants every day, ‘in case I had an accident’. In any case there was no one around so after filling the lock I still had time to put on another pair of jeans. It only took us two hours to get to Berkhamsted where we were able to moor just above Ravens Lane lock. We took a walk into town where we enjoyed lunch at Carluccio’s and after wandering into most of the shops along the main street, we stopped for coffee at Brasserie Blanc. A short stop at the local Waitrose store preceded a walk along the towpath back to our mooring.

After a short rest, we walked down to the Rising Sun pub where we joined the throng of people gathered around the pub and the lock there. There was a group of cyclists sitting on the lock gate and we were looking forward to a boat arriving and providing us with some entertainment. It took ages but eventually a pair arrived, unfortunately they didn’t provide us with the expected laughs.

When we passed through Berkhamsted a few days earlier we admired a place called the Warehouse which we took to be some sort of shop. Our mooring place was almost opposite said place so before we walked to the Rising Sun we decided to visit the Warehouse. Embarrassingly, it turned out to be a private house, the home of Lindy, who is a local councillor. We apologised and left the grounds but later on Sue continued the conversation with her from the other side of the canal when we had returned to Phoenix III. She was a good sport and amongst other things we discovered that she represents a group called CARP.

There wasn’t much in the way of boating traffic so we settled in for the evening and just relaxed.