Another Saturday morning on board Phoenix III, another lazy start for us. Coffee followed tea and then a light breakfast on the back deck before we started the engine and left our mooring. We had already seen a few boats on the move beforehand but once on the move we couldn’t believe how busy the traffic was. We pottered on and eventually reached the last winding hole before Napton bottom lock. There were no mooring spaces left before the winding hole and the only space on the other side was four boat lengths away. Nothing ventured, nothing gained as they say so we turned Phoenix III around and started the long reversing move that would bring us to our next mooring place. We were lucky in the sense that no boats approached us from either direction and the wind which was blowing quite hard didn’t trouble us too much. Maybe we should also give some credit to the R&D slipper stern which really does improve the quality of the swim and maybe I’m getting better at steering.
After tying up we took a walk up to the village shop before returning to the boat but not before we stopped at the Folly Inn for a quick libation. Returning to Phoenix III we sat on the bank before enjoying yet another al fresco meal. After that we sat inside, listened to music, knitted, blogged and had a drink or two, generally mellowing and chilling out on a beautiful August evening.

Only one week to go until our next holiday but with the weather nice and settled, we boarded Phoenix III and set a course for another weekend out on the cut. Straight away we encountered a Black Prince hire boat which for some reason was on the service point in the marina. It caused us no trouble as it shot out on to the Grand Union but the boat travelling from the locks towards the junction had to perform an emergency stop. We watched in disbelief as the episode unfolded and then after waving the shocked boat crew on, followed both vessels as they made their way in a northerly direction. At Braunston turn we lost the boat ahead whose crew saw fit to perform some sort of turning manouevre and that left us with the hire boat which now seemed to want to travel at tickover speed. We didn’t travel far, just an hour from Braunston and we tied up between bridges 99 and 100. Sue prepared a lovely meal which we enjoyed ‘al fresco’ on the deck where we remained until the sun sank a few hours later.

Back in the days when we kept Phoenix III at Hinckley, we very often laughed at the queuing traffic on the A5 as we passed underneath the Lime Kiln bridge. As we enjoyed an unhurried start to our weekend, we would raise a glass to those poor unfortunates crawling along, maybe going home, maybe driving a delivery truck but in any case they were stuck in their world, the world that we had just escaped from. Nowadays we keep our boat at Braunston which means that we have to endure that traffic with the rest of them before we can begin our weekend escapes. This friday was a little worse than most, the M1 being closed near Northampton and the M6 suffering heavy congestion, both conditions forcing traffic on to the trusty old A5.

It was lovely to wake up and see blue skies above us for a change. It was only eight o’clock but we could hear the sound of the boat expanding as the sun warmed the steel, this is the first time this year that we have heard the noises that we would normally associate with summer. The two fishermen who we had seen setting up camp the evening before were just starting to pack up their stuff, it had been a long night for them made worse by the fact that they had caught nothing. We left our mooring just before nine and made our way back to Crick tunnel pulling our raincoats on as we went, the weather hadn’t changed but we knew that we would be in for a drenching as we passed through the tunnel. Crick tunnel is dead straight so it is possible to see the other end as soon as you enter it. Normally it is possible to gauge the distance traveled by comparing the size of the two tunnel mouths but today it was different and it took me some time to figure out why. The sun was shining at the southern end which reflected on the water just inside the end of the tunnel, creating an oval of light which was twice the size of the portal. This gave the illusion of being closer to that end even though we hadn’t reached the half way point. It was still chilly when we emerged from Crick tunnel but it was sunny and dry which was all that mattered. We checked in with the lock keeper at the top of the Watford flight and were delighted to discover that we could start our descent straight away. With the staircase lock mantra ringing in her ears, “red before white, you’ll be alright”, Sue worked us down through the seven chambers. We had been lucky with our timing as there was already a queue forming at the bottom. By then it had just gone ten thirty and another forty five minutes would see us back at Norton junction where we turned sharp right past the small toll house there. We followed another boat into Braunston tunnel and made the slowest progress of all of our subterranean trips that weekend. We met a narrowboat and a cruiser on the way through before we reached the other end. We caught up with the lead boat and joined them for the duration of the descent of the Braunston flight. They had an experienced crew of three and with enough traffic coming up to make the locks easier for all, we cleared the bottom gates at twenty past one. We were back on our berth in the marina by half past, our trip back from Crick had only taken four and a half hours, one less than the outward journey. We did think about washing the boat but grey clouds were beginning to gather and a few spots of rain warned us against getting the cleaning materials out. We had a superb home made cottage pie for lunch before packing up and returning home. Our weekend trip was voted a success by both of us and so all we need to do now is to plan the next trip out.

Unlike living in a house, one can always tell when it is raining in a boat because the raindrops make so much noise. It was raining at five o’clock and at six, the dawn chorus adding to the cocophony of noise in between those hours.A sudden unexplained rustling in the trees wakened us fully just after six but then we slept on until half past seven when it was time for our customary early morning cuppa. It was still raining when we untied and left our mooring just before nine o’clock. It was drizzly, the sort of rain that we know and maybe almost love in Britain. OK, maybe that’s taking it a bit far to say that we love it but maybe it’s fair to say that we don’t mind it since without it we wouldn’t have this green and pleasant land in which we live. We made our way to Watford locks passing Watford gap services on the M1 along the way as well as passing under the west coast main line. Once clear of these noisy distractions we reached the bottom of the lock flight. We pulled up and Sue went off to find the lock keeper. She returned with the news that there was a boat coming down but that we would be able to pass through the bottom lock. She had endured some mickey taking by the lock keepers because she was wearing a yellow sou’ wester, they may have laughed but this gift of a hat is extremely effective at keeping the rain out,thanks to Mark for the gift. Our ascent of the staircase didn’t seem to take too long but it was still raining when we reached the summit and then passed under the motorway. Miraculously, the road noise seemd to disappear immediately once we had passed under the M1. The canal landscape is already rural from the motorway to the southern portal of Crick tunnel. We passed a boat which had just emerged from the darkness and then it was our turn to sacrifice ourselves to the tunnel monster that is the southerly canal entrance to Crick. After we emerged back into the daylight we passed under two bridges and then turned around before mooring just outside the marina. We took a break for an hour before we walked into the village where we discovered that it was the village scarecrow weekend and we saw a few examples of celebrity scarecrows as we made our way into the centre of Crick.

We wandered around the many stalls on the village green and after buying a couple of sandwiches we walked on to the Red Lion where we had a drink before visiting the local Co-op. On the way back we re-visited the village fayre where we bought some cheese before we returned to the boat. We sat on the back deck and enjoyed the afternoon sunshine before resigning ourselves to an evening inside as the rain started to fall again.

It wasn’t a great start to the weekend by any means. We had decided to stop taking any notice of the BBC weather forecast after it became clear that they were incapable of giving anything close to an accurate prediction. However it wasn’t the weather that caused the initial problem but a simple question of logistics. After travelling to Basingstoke during the day I returned to Hinckley where I collected Sue and all of the things that we would need for our weekend trip. We drove to Braunston village where we picked up some provisions at the local shop before making our way to the marina, as we turned off the main road we realised that we had forgotten to bring the keys to the boat so we had little choice but to return home for them, adding another fifty miles to the day’s travelling. It was half past five when we finally got to the boat but it only took us another fifteen minutes to get ourselves organised and leave the marina. It was just after six when we entered the first of the six locks at Braunston. The rain started by the time we were leaving the second lock and by the time we reached the third the rain was torrential, almost tropical given the temperature. We only passed one boat coming down the flight and we were following another so it took us somewhere around ninety minutes to reach the top of the flight. The boat in front of us tied up once it had cleared the top lock so we passed it and made our way to the tunnel mouth. The northern portal of Braunston tunnel yawned and then swallowed Phoenix III for a while before spitting us out at the other end some forty minutes later. It was still raining when we emerged back into the daylight but we carried on undaunted until we reached Norton junction where we turned left as we had done almost two years earlier. We carried on until we passed under bridge 2 where we pulled up and moored for the evening. Sue had lit the fire after we left the tunnel so the interior of the boat was cosy and warm when we stopped and ate a delicious bowl of chicken curry. We settled in our reclining chairs and promptly fell asleep and when we awoke it was nearly midnight so we quickly climbed into bed where we could resume our slumbers.

I’m puzzled, well puzzled and suspicious really. The last weekend in May is tradionally the spring bank holiday and the weather is usually rotten. This year it was a beautiful weekend but by a strange quirk of fate it wasn’t actually a bank holiday. This weekend, the first weekend in June is the bank holiday and it is a two day holiday to celebrate the Queen’s diamond jubilee. Needless to say, the weather has followed the holiday rather than the date and so it has come to pass that we have yet another soggy bank holiday in store.

Regardless of any weather conspiracy theories, today was the beginning of our summer holiday so despite the rain we readied ourselves for an early departure. The sky was grey and the air was damp when we fired up the engine and edged our way out of Braunston marina. We both felt rather glum as we pottered along on our journey north up the Oxford canal. The forecast gave us little to look forward to but we pressed on anyway. This trip is a sort of pilgrimage in a way, it is the route that we planned to take last year and indeed we were taking until we suffered gearbox failure at Peel wharf, Fazeley. So the trip has to be done, we have to lay this particular ghost to rest.
We endured the drizzle which wasn’t a problem and we got a bit wet but nothing serious at all. When we eventually reached Hillmorton we found ourselves third in a queue of boats waiting to descend the locks with another pulling in behind. We made reasonable progress, crossing with a couple of boats on the way up but nothing particularly notable.
Once clear of Hillmorton we started to make good headway through the fine rain which countinued to fall on us.
We encountered a steady stream of boats, many of them hirers but all of them well behaved. The rain gave up after we passed through Rugby and so it was that we carried on towards Stretton Stop the home of Rose Narrowboats. We caught up with an inexperienced crew near All Oaks wood and watched in disbelief as they veered from one side of the canal to the other. We passed them just after we exited the boat yard and then left them behind as we made our way towards Ansty.
The rain dried up completely although we never saw any sunshine as made our way along the Oxford canal before joining the Coventry canal at Hawkesbury. Our only notable encounter was with debris floating in the water as we travelled through Nuneaton but it was a quiet journey otherwise. Just before seven o’clock we found a mooring near Springwood Haven, home of the Valley Cruise hire fleet. We tied up and had our evening meal before retiring for the evening. Our holiday was well underway and we hoped that our progress would continue to be unhindered by the poor weather which was being forecast.

It rained all of last night, heavy rain battering down on the roof of the boat amplified every so often with the addition of big drops falling from the trees overhead. We awoke periodically through the night and still the rain fell heavily.
We decided to just get up and go regardless of the weather so an hour after setting off we reached Atherstone top lock. The first two locks were against us as we followed a Viking hire boat down the flight and at the third we crossed over with a boat whose lockwheeler informed us that the boat behind them had a film crew with them, making a piece for an episode of BBC1’s ‘The One Show’ to be shown in July. At lock 4 we were approached by a crewmember from the boat being filmed who asked us to be patient with them because the filming was delaying their entry to the next lock. Given the inclement weather we were not really interested in hanging around while filming went on. We exited lock 4 and made our way to lock 5 where the film crew stood recording the aforementioned boat as it entered (badly as it happens) the lock chamber. As the boat left the lock we were filmed entering it but whether we make the final edit remains to be seen. After enduring some friendly banter from Sue, one of the film crew declared that it should be she who they should be filming.
After lock 5, the locks of the Atherstone flight spreads out into three pairs of two so we just plodded on down them getting wetter and wetter as we went. We had to fill each one as we were still following the same boat and there were no flight ascenders to ease the passage. Until we reached the last lock, the chamber was empty and although we reached the lock first, we could see a boat approaching from below. Sue opened the bottom gates for the boat which was duly driven in. At this point she realised that the steerer was on his own and although he thanked her for the gatework, he obviously thought that she was going to work the lock for him – nice try captain but no cigar this time! Returning to Phoenix III, Sue left him to his own devices but after a comfort break returned to open the top gate once the lock had filled.
We stopped briefly at the service station ten minutes below the bottom lock before pressing on to Alvecote where we moored for the evening. The rain became heavier than it had been all day during the last hour but it wasn’t too cold so after tying up we got inside and ate dinner.
The weather outlook is poor for the rest of the week but tomorrow should be dry so we intend to press on to Curdworth or thereabouts.

The sun was shining over Alvecote when we awoke this morning, a welcome sight after the previous day’s rain. We weren’t very enthusiastic about the next part of our trip, today’s forecast was reasonable but the following days only promised more rain, not ideal for a trip through Birmingham. After a cup of tea we were up and ready, leaving our mooring opposite the Samuel Barlow pub. We passed the working boat ‘Emu’ which we had seen leave the mooring opposite the previous evening only to return at a quarter to one this morning. Once underway we had an easy passage to the two locks at Glascote, like the Atherstone eleven these too are slow to fill. We were soon through and on our way to Peel’s Wharf just beyond Fazeley junction where we emptied and filled according to the various necessary services. We didn’t need to stay long having topped the water tank up the day before and after winding at the entrance to the wharf we turned right on to the Birmingham and Fazeley canal. We sailed past the point that we had stopped at last year when we discovered that we had gearbox trouble and on to Fazeley Mill marina where we reversed in and filled with diesel for the rest of our trip. With the boat made heavier by eighty litres of fuel and the wallet made lighter by a similar number of ‘sovs’ we moved off and were on our way once more.
In no time at all we reached Curdworth bottom lock, the point where our ill-fated cruise ended last year.

This year we were up and through the lock in a few minutes and therefore on to new waters with Phoenix III. With the exception of a couple of showers, the weather has been kind to us today and the eleven locks of the Curdworth flight seemed almost effortless. We reached the village of Curdworth at about quarter past two and tied up on the visitor moorings there. We travelled the same amount of time as we did the day previously and yet yesterday seemed a much longer affair but that’s the difference between travelling in the rain and travelling in dry weather.
We were heartened to discover that the forecast for Tuesday has improved so we are going to take the Grand Union route straight through Birmingham and aim to stop at Catherine-de-Barnes tomorrow evening. It will be a relatively long day but by the time we stop we will have Stratford-on-Avon firmly in our sights. After we had sorted all of that out we decided to explore the village but unfortunately we didn’t get past the White Horse where Sue dined on Haddock and I had Rump steak. We returned to the boat just after five and relaxed for the rest of the evening.

They say that the early bird catches the worm, well we were certainly early this morning, completing our checks and setting off at 6.30. With an hour before the Minworth locks we took the opportunity to have breakfast on the go. Unlike the other early birds we don’t really like a vermicular diet so we had crumpets instead.
We soon reached the locks and quickly made our way up and through the three chambers. We enjoyed the solitude of our early morning cruise and made good progress to Aston junction where we turned on to the Grand Union. We slowed only to pass a couple of boats moored outside Star City otherwise we continued to make good time on our way to the Garison lock flight. We shared the lockwheeling during our ascent of the five locks before turning left to the bottom of the Camp Hill locks. The approach took us by surprise and with the gusting wind at the junction, it took us a few minutes to get the boat under control. We then discovered that the pounds were short of water and the bottom lock had a paddle that wouldn’t close properly. As usual, determination and boater co-operation saved the day and with the assistance of the boat in front, the first that we had seen on the move, we made our way up the flight. Our progress improved with each lock and at the fourth lock we met Barry who helped us up through the remaining three locks after we removed a fender and rope that we had picked up on the prop. Barry told Sue that he was retired and kept himself fit by travelling to various parts of the Birmingham canals to help boaters up and down the locks.
Once clear of the top lock we headed out of the city in the direction of Solihull. We picked up some more rubbish on the prop but that was our only hinderence, we passed only a few boats on the move and even fewer tied to the bank. There weren’t too many people on the towpath but we still had time to have conversations with a group of cyclists, four youngsters in their early teens and another half a dozen in their late teens. We didn’t experience any trouble at all as we made our way along a route that has a poor and in our opinion undeserved reputation, sometimes referred to as ‘Bandit Country’.
By two o’clock we reached Catherine-de-Barnes where we tied up on the visitor moorings. A walk to the shop followed by an excellent meal in the Boat Inn opposite rounded off the day, the rain came on but we didn’t care since we were warm and dry on board Phoenix III.
It’s true that the Grand Union route through Birmingham isn’t the prettiest of waterways, much of it is lined by trees and the rest of it is industrial in its nature but we have no complaints about our journey through the backwaters of Britains second largest city.

We awoke just after 5am to blue skies and fluffy white clouds so we decided to get up and make the most of the weather. The usual checks and the customary cup of tea first before setting off at ten minutes to six. We had no sooner rounded the first bend on our journey from Catherine-de-Barnes when we encountered a BW barge untied and blocking the canal. Sue moved forward and pushed it to the side with a pole and we were soon on our way again.
It took us an hour to reach the locks at Knowle, the first wide locks of our trip. Before descending we took on water as well as empting the toilet and disposing of our refuse. Sue had already washed all of the laundry while we had travelled so we really needed a lot of fresh water to fill the tank but we were soon on our way again. Our early morning trip had been very rural by comparison to the day before’s journey and now that we were at the top of the locks, the countryside fell away before us to reveal a beautiful view of South Warwickshire.
Our passage through the locks wasn’t an easy one, the south-westerley wind had free reign across the exposed hillside and it made hard work for both of us as we descended. We were glad to see the bottom lock but not so glad to see the Alvechurch hire boat tied on the bottom lock mooring effectively making it impossible to exit the lock and pick up the lock wheeler. The crew, a middle aged couple seemed surprised when Sue knocked on their boat and insisted that they move off the mooring – their defence? There was no sign to say that they couldn’t moor there. Common sense was clearly absent but they moved off but only as far as the water point opposite.
It was just after eight o’clock when we left Knowle locks continuing our cruise on the Grand Union and heading for the junction with the Stratford canal. On paper it looks like a complex affair but in reality it’s a very picturesque area and very soon we were in the first of the eighteen narrow locks that we hoped to pass through during the day. It remained windy and there were the sometimes fierce by-washes to contend with but with a steady stream of boats climbing the hill our progress was relatively quick or at least that’s how it seemed. Eventually we reached Wootton Wawen where we moored temporarily in the basin while we wandered off and found the farm shop near bridge 53. We availed ourselves of a few delicacies before returning to Phoenix III a short time later.
We found our exit from the basin blocked temporarily by a boater replenishing his water supply while sitting in the small aqueduct there.
A short while later, the blue sky which had been our backdrop all day became very black and heavy rain began to fall. We were just approaching the Edstone or Bearley aqueduct at the time and there was already a boat on it coming towards us so I pulled over to the non towpath side. This was the only place to keep the boat under control while the oncoming boat passed by. As I approached the bank I could see that there was a second boat following the first. Standing on the bank it was impossible to see if there were any more boats on the aqueduct so I asked the steerer of the second boat if it was clear behind him. He gave me a blank look so I repeated the question to which he replied, “Not really, I don’t think so”. His vacant look made me think that he still didn’t know what I was asking so I asked him if there was a boat behind him to which he answered, “There was one, but that was around the corner”. I was just about to scream at him something to the effect of, “Will you just turn around and take a bloody look behind you”, when Sue appeared and said that she had looked from the front and the aqueduct was clear. She had been inside preparing dinner and heard my questions and realised that I was getting no joy from the brainless boater. I bet he still has no idea what was going on.
We ended our journey at Wilmcote where we tied up for the night and apart from stopping to remove a sheet of plastic from the prop ten minutes before we reached our destination, the last part of our journey was straightforward and uneventful.
After dinner we took a short walk to the village station to check out the train services and also ended up walking to Mary Arden’s house. Mary Arden was Shakespeare’s mother but there seems to be some confusion over which house she actually lived in. Tomorrow is forecast to be heavy rain all day so if that happens we might take the train somewhere. We are only about five hours from Stratford now so it looks like Friday morning will see us making the final leg of this part of the journey.

Last night we spent the evening just chatting and listening to music until quite late. After two early starts it would have been easy to be tempted into having an early night but that would have just led to another early morning and since the plan was to have a non-boating day it wasn’t what we wanted to do. When we finally awoke properly around eight o’clock we realised that the forecast heavy rain wasn’t happening so we decided to abandon our plan to catch a train to Leamington or Banbury. Instead, we quickly got dressed and started the engine with the intention of getting to Stratford. It was exactly nine o’clock when we left our mooring at Wilmcote with just three and a half miles between us and Stratford and of the course the small matter of sixteen locks to negotiate!
We reached the first of those locks within ten minutes and discovered that like most of the rest it was set against us and the chamber needed to be filled, we were obviously following someone else down the flight. We quickly developed an efficient method of working the locks whereby I drove into the lock and closed the top gate and paddles before opening the bottom paddle. Sue meanwhile prepared the next lock before returning to open the bottom gate of the lock that I was occupying. By the time she had closed the gate and paddle I would be in the ready-prepared lock below and the process would be repeated. We traveled through eleven locks before we met anything coming up but our efficient method of working had meant that we had worked the eleven locks in just over two hours.
The rain still hadn’t come to much by the time we reached the last four locks by which time we had dumped the rubbish, emptied the toilet and topped up the water tank. We used the services at the boatyard recently acquired by the Nuneaton company, Valley Cruises and had a chat to the manager. We mentioned that we had seen the feature on the UK Boating programme and he said that we were the first people that he had met who had actually seen it. As we approached the first lock we were asked to wait while the emerging boat turned so that it could reverse along the cut to its permanent mooring. There were three generations on board but the boat clearly belong to the grandma at the tiller. The wind had whipped up to the extent that I was struggling to hold Phoenix III against the bank but ‘steering grandma’ turned perfectly and proceeded to reverse her boat the four or five hundred yards to her mooring.
We pushed on, quite excited at the prospect of being able to find a mooring in the centre of Stratford. It was probably the anticipation of it all but the last four locks seemed to take longer than expected. Just after one o’clock we emerged under the last bridge and popped out into the basin itself. Sue got off the boat and walked round to find a vacant mooring and returned a few minutes later having identified an empty pontoon. Rather than attempt to turn and reverse into the space in the strong gusting wind, we drove in nose first and tied Phoenix III to the relatively short pontoon. We had no sooner secured the boat when the heavens opened, our timing had been almost perfect again.
We had a celebratory drink to toast our arrival in Stratford before walking the short distance to Barnaby’s fish restaurant for a delicious plate of cod and chips.

We’ve done no boating today, instead we’ve had a wander around the shops of Stratford in the rain. Later in the day we ventured out again and this time found an excellent toyshop called much ado about toys, easily the best shop that we had been in all day. We ventured past the boatyard on the river and bought a bag of coal before returning to the boat where we lit the fire and watched a DVD.

At seven o’clock we saw the ghost tour guy waiting impatiently for some customers to frighten with his stories and by eight o’clock he had managed to gather half a dozen of them before heading off into the fading light of the evening.

At nine o’clock we could hear music and so we headed in the direction of nearby Cox’s yard where found a blues band playing, it was good but a bit loud so we left and since the weather had improved decided to take a walk around the town for an hour before finally returning to the basin and Phoenix III.

I awoke at 4am to hear the same heavy rain that had awoken me at 2am, this time I didn’t get back to sleep. Sue woke up at six so tea followed coffee followed tea as we discussed our travelling plans for the coming days. We eventually decided to leave Stratford after a cooked breakfast which we did just before eleven. High winds didn’t prevent us executing a neat set of maneouvres before leaving Bancroft basin by way of the bridge exit. A couple of minutes later we were starting our ascent out of the Avon valley as we entered the first lock. Along the way, Sue steered through a group of ducks, five drakes and one duck to be precise, the female jumped on to the roof of Phoenix III, clearly unhappy at the attention being paid to her by the five drakes. She remained on board for a hundred yards or so before jumping to the safety of a boat tied to the bank.
Despite the wind and the water gushing from the lock by-washes, we had soon reached the top of the fourth lock and approached the Valley Cruises boatyard. We were unable to stop at the water point but managed to get on to a vacant private mooring that meant we could empty the toilet (in the Elsan of course, not on the private mooring!)
Our next stop was to be just after bridge 63 beyond the next lock, half an hour away. When we reached the water/rubbish disposal point there was already a boat there filling his tank. No problem with this of course but there was another cruddy little boat moored just behind fouling the mooring while he worked on the interior of his vessel. There is only one tap here so we didn’t actually lose any time in waiting but it is so annoying when some boaters show a complete lack of consideration for others using the facilities. Eventually we were able to move into position and top up our tank. As we left, we gave full thrust to our prop and ensured that Mr Selfish got a taste of life on the ocean wave for his behaviour. Beyond this point the locks are quite close together and we shared the lock work as we climbed our way up the hill towards Wilmcote. We only met one boat coming downhill and that was near the bottom of this section. We didn’t see anyone except walkers until we met our next boat but that wasn’t until we were about to leave our last lock of the day, he was of no use to us but at least he would have a fairly easy passage down to the bottom.
We reached Wilmcote at half past three, four and a half hours after we left Stratford, the early morning rain had given way to grey cloud which in turn had given way to blue skies and high white clouds. After mooring close to where we had stopped only two days earlier we took a walk to the village to explore. We found a shop which despite it’s diminutive size seemed to stock everything possible. One of the village pubs was closed but we took time to stop for a drink at the Mary Arden Inn, this being the village where Shakespeare’s mother lived. Afterwards it was back to the boat where we have been able, finally, to sit and eat our evening meal outside on the back deck.

It was good to wake from a deep sleep, uninterrupted by rain. We weren’t in a hurry to set off despite knowing that we had a long day with a lot of locks and all uphill of course. The visitor moorings at Wilmcote are shaded by trees but we could see the blue skies overhead and when we stepped outside, the air felt warm. We left Wilmcote at twenty past nine and started our trip with a forty minute cruise in the sunshine until we reached the first lock of the day. We saw all of the interesting points that we noted on the way down but enjoyed them more in the calmer, drier conditions. We passed over the two aqueducts, large and small and then resisted the temptation to stop at Wootton Wawen for a visit to the farm shop.
At one lock we caught up with an Anglo Welsh boat, crewed by a Welsh couple funnily enough. They knew what they were about but were so slow because the woman didn’t like to cross the lock gates so they were filling the locks on one paddle only. Then there was the difficulty in picking her up from the bank as she would prefer to get on in the lock and leave the top gate open. They told us that they hoped to stop at Lowsonford so we knew that we only had to endure their slow progress for a short while. Two locks up and we saw a couple inflating a canoe which they then lowered into the water just in front of the Anglo Welsh boat. They were going to go up through the lock with the narrowboat, a move which Sue advised them against but they insisted that they had done it before. Anglo Welsh tied up outside the Fluer de Lys pub so we said goodbye and wished them well. They’re heading for Tardebigge so good luck with that!!!
It was another two locks up before we found the canoeists again, they were eating a sandwich and as we approached they grinned and said “We survived!”, obviously feeling triumphant after Sue’s warning. “Yes”, said Sue, “And now you’re blocking the lock mooring. You’re not very good at this, are You?”. Luckily for them they didn’t ask to share with us otherwise they would had a flat refusal and an explanation about how sixteen tons of steel and a blow-up boat don’t mix at the best of times, let alone in a lock with thousands of gallons of fast moving water – health & safety is paramount!
That was our excitement over for the day and after that we made steady progress up to Kingswood junction. There were enough boats coming down the flight to ease the work by either swapping over in the pound or having the locks in our favour. At four o’clock we reached the top where we topped up the water tank and emptied the toilet before making the two turns which took us back on to the Grand Union again. We traveled on to Turner’s Green where we tied up for the evening just before bridge 63 adjacent to the Tom O’ the woods pub.

No Boating today, fire lit watching rain save for a couple of hours having lunch at the Tom O’ The Woods.

And so the day we had been waiting for finally dawned, our descent of the Hatton flight was upon us at last. We left Turner’s Green at a quarter to eight but not until I had fallen off the boat and on to the towpath with a pan full of ashes in my hand. Three injuries although none serious – shins, hands and pride of course. Sadly no video footage to send to ITV for £250 from You’ve been framed.
We made Shrewley tunnel by eight thirty where we saw the unusual tunnel built to the side for horses to pass through, presumably an oversight when the boat tunnel was being built.
We reached Hatton top lock at nine o’clock and after we used the services there we started our descent, twenty minutes later. We could see no other boat in sight and with the first two locks against us, felt that we were in for a difficult morning. After three locks we had the assistance of a volunteer, Eddie, who was litter picking on the towpath. Eddie opened a couple of gates for us once we had prepared the locks ahead. After six locks we realised that we were catching up with another descending boat and by the eighth we joined them for the rest of the journey. The boat was hired from Valley Cruises and was crewed by a couple in their sixties and their nephew who we think was around fifty. Ideally we would have preferred a crew of half a dozen energetic teenagers, if that’s not a contradiction in terms but we had what we had and that was it. Our new companions seemed to bring us luck in that we started to meet some boats coming up the flight which of course helped our progress down the flight. The lady on board stayed on board, only emerging to show off the sweatshirt that she wore emblazoned with the slogan “Tea lady”, a title that she didn’t live up to but that was a good thing because it allowed us to give her some stick the details of which are a bit to much to go in to. It all added to the ambience of the morning and distracted the lock wheelers from noticing the physical demands being made of them.
Just after twelve thirty we exited the bottom chamber where we left our lockmates behind. I had ‘phoned Ian at Saltisford an hour earlier to check that we would be able to moor in the arm for a couple of nights so we carried straight on under the bridge to find our mooring. Although this was by no means the end of our trip it was the end of our travelling on new waters, from here on in we would be on increasingly familiar territory.
It’s only our second time here, the last was almost two years ago but there’s something about the place that personally I just love.
After mooring we showered and then walked into Warwick for a look around. After trying unsuccessfully to buy two coffees in Caffe Nero we walked around the corner and went into the local Weatherspoons where Sue had a coffee and I had a pint of Stella. While we were there, who should walk in but the owner, Tim Martin founder and CEO of the company. Sue engaged in conversation with the main man, who incidentally also drank a pint of Stella, before leaving him to get on with his inspection of the premises.
We made our way back to Saltisford by a circular route of Susan’s choosing where we settled for the evening in front of an open fire. This all sounds very cosy of course but with only nine days until midsummer’s day, having to light a fire is not very good at all.

We had a good sleep last night and didn’t stir until after seven o’clock this morning. The sky was blue with the odd cloud but before we ventured out, Sue did the washing and made us a bacon sandwich while I booked our winter sun holiday. When all of our chores were done we walked to Warwick railway station and caught the train to Leamington Spa. We took a look in the shop at the Pump Room before wandering over to Jephson Park where we had a look in the tropical house before heading up into town.
Looking for a place to have lunch, we stopped at The Lounge which is almost opposite the Town Hall. We were not disappointed, the food was good, the service great and all set in a clean and well decorated room.
We returned to Warwick after a little walk around the shops and then we walked back to Saltisford stopping at the Punchbowl pub and Sainsbury’s.
When we got back we discovered that another boat had tied up alongside us for the night. Sue took in the washing which was dry by then so we poured ourselves a drink and sat on the bank in our camping chairs to enjoy the early evening sunshine.

Another solid night’s sleep for us both followed by a cooked breakfast set us up for our departure from Warwick. We were ready to leave by half past nine and with a bit of assistance from the couple on the boat tied to us, we were off. Chugging past the residential moorings we waved goodbye to Ian the site manager and then left the arm, turning right towards the two Cape locks. After descending into the pound which stretches for around five miles through Warwick and Leamington, we plodded on through the conurbation, stopping only once near bridge 41 to visit the local Co-op. Eventually we reached the first of the locks which would lift us out of the Avon valley and it was here that we encountered some workmen, chest high in the water doing some reinforcement work on the canal bank.

The locks are more spread out than on the Hatton side of the valley but they are just as big and require the same amount of work so it is easy to underestimate the effort required to climb the hill particularly since we were on our own and the wind was gusting quite strongly. We shared the work as morning gave way to afternoon and before we knew it we were in the Bascote staircase lock which would be the last one of the day for us. Once through, we carried on to Long Itchington where we found a mooring just before bridge 25 and only a hundred yards from the Two Boats pub.

After more torrential rain during the night and with more forecast for Saturday we decided to end the holiday by travelling back to Braunston today. There was of course the small matter of the Stockton locks to deal with but we started them at 8.40 and left the top one just ninety minutes later. Not bad going considering that we didn’t meet anyone coming down until we were half way up. The run between Stockton and Braunston is now as familiar to us as the Ashby is around Hinckley.
The wind starting whipping up as we approached the three locks at Calcutt and we had the first heavy shower of the day as we left the top lock.
We had sunshine and showers all the way back to Braunston but it wasn’t too bad at all. The only event of note was a noisy military plane that flew over us between bridges 107 and 108 at a height of no more than a hundred feet.
We were concerned about the return to our berth in the marina with the strength of the wind that was blowing but we needn’t have been worried because our pontoon was completely empty leaving us plenty of space to pull in nose first.
We cleared a few bits and pieces into the car and left for home but we will be back living on board ready for the historic boat show next weekend.
So that was it, we had finally completed the Warwickshire ring with a trip to Stratford thrown in for good measure. The weather was mixed but we still had a good time as we completed our 127 mile, 164 lock trip in just 59 hours.

Good friday, April 6th

We finally decided after much to-ing and fro-ing to head south on the Grand Union despite the lock restrictions which are in place because of the water shortages which we are currently suffering from. We left our pontoon in Braunston marina shortly after half past twelve and headed for the diesel pump, we were pipped to the post by another boat so we waited temporarily very close to our original mooring in the marina. As soon as the refuelling point was free we moved PhoenixIII into position and filled the tank with 96 litres of diesel at £1.28 a litre which seems rather expensive for a 60:40 split. With a full tank and a new bag of coal we left the marina, turned right and made our way to the first lock of the Braunston flight. Conscious of our water conservation obligations we waited in the lock to be joined by the next boat to come along, Capercailie. The crew were delivering the boat to a new owner at Stowe Hill and we had a pleasant enough ascent with them to the mouth of Braunston tunnel. We followed another boat into the tunnel and with Capercailie behind us we traversed the gloomy hole through the hill until we emerged on the Daventry side of the navigation passing just one boat en-route. We knew that we would be unable to descend through the Buckby flight but we took a chance and we were able to moor just a hundred yards from the top lock. After eating our main meal of the day we took a walk down to the top lock and paid a visit to the New Inn, not a bad little place but like so many independent pubs a bit tatty and obviously in need of investment. After a drink we returned to the boat so with the fire generating a gentle but constant heat, we settled down for the evening.

We changed our mind two or three times as we tried to work out what we wanted to do before we decided to turn around and avoid the restrictions of the Grand Union. Boats were already gathering at the top of Buckby locks when we untied and reversed the 300 yards or so back to Norton junction. We turned around and were soon heading back to the Braunston tunnel which we reached about an hour after setting off. Although we still had no definite plan when we had turned around, by the time we reached the tunnel we had decided to head for the Ashby canal.

Emerging into the sunlight at the other end we joined the short queue for the locks. By the time it was our turn to descend we had been joined by Frank and Denise on board nb Betty Eccles. It’s always a pleasure to be accompanied by experienced boaters and this trip was no exception. We swapped locks with pair after pair of ascending boats until we reached Braunston bottom lock an hour later. We waved goodbye to our lockmates and pulled over at the boatyard where we caught up with Justin Green and discussed our concerns with recent problems we have had when starting the engine. Justin checked the glow plugs before draining water from the fuel filter, it looks like there is contamination, probably from a damaged O-ring on the filler cap so when we have finished our cruise we will get Justin to polish the fuel, a new service that he provides for boats.

We left Justin’s yard and chugged on to the Boathouse pub where we were fortunate enough to grab the last mooring space. After tying up we went inside and ordered lunch and as usual we were not disappointed by the service, the food or the drinks. An hour later and it was time to move on so we untied and carried on to the service point near Braunston turn where Sue dumped the rubbish and emptied the toilet and I wandered over to Midland Chandlers looking for a new O-ring for the fuel filler – no guessing who had the best deal here then!

And so we carried on, making our way along the North Oxford in the direction of Rugby. We noted the progress made at the new marina on the Barby straight and eventually reached Hillmorton locks. There were a couple of boats in front of us and because BW/CRT have decided to close half of the paired locks, it was a relatively slow descent despite the fact that there were boats coming up at the same rate as there were going down. The afternoon was slipping by as we left Hillmorton and made our way through Rugby and Newbold on Avon, we eventually stopped for the night near Bridge 48, about half a mile north of the Newbold tunnel.

After settling down, Sue phoned Cliff who painted Phoenix III last year to tell him that we would be on the Ashby later in the week. It turns out that he is expecting to be at the Greyhound at Hawkesbury tomorrow afternoon and that is about the time that we will be there. We are all looking forward to this re-union so it is unlikely that there will be a blog posting tomorrow – thick heads all round I suspect!

Easter Sunday dawned with a dose of miserable weather again but we got up and got dressed anyway, knowing that waiting for better things would be a pointless exercise. We were soon on our way from our overnight mooring at Falls Bridge, heading once again in a northerly direction on the Oxford canal. It was a cold and wet wind that accompanied us on our journey but we had no hold ups or incidents as we passed through Stretton stop and then Ansty. We reached Sutton stop just before midday and moored almost at the end of the visitor moorings on the Oxford side. When Cliff arrived a couple of hours later, there was still just enough room to squeeze his boat, Stonewall Jackson in between us and the mooring for the lock.

Once we had secured both boats we joined Cliff and Liz for a coffee and looked at the photographs that they had taken on their trip to America last year. With that out of the way, we made our way to the pub for a drink and to start the re-union properly. We had eaten lunch on board but the Stonewall Jackson crew were planning to eat in the Greyhound so we all thought that we could have a couple of drinks, return to our boats before they could come back to the pub and eat where we would join them later. They booked a table for 6.30 but since we were all still there at 6pm we decided that we might as well all stay and eat. After six hours of talking, eating and drinking we called it a day and wandered back along the towpath to our respective vessels, happy and tired. Sue and I retired to bed before 9.30 but I had a rotten night’s sleep, the combination of two big meals and a belly full of Guinness made for an uncomfortable night but that was still outweighed by the lovely afternoon that we had enjoyed.

It seemed like a long night but eventually it got light and Monday had begun. We set off in the wind and rain, hoping for a mooring somewhere in the Hinckley area. It was a pretty straightforward trip through the stop lock on to the Coventry canal and then back on to the Ashby. We noted some changes to the scenery at the Charity Dock at Bedworth but other than picking up a couple of plastic bags on the prop which we stopped to remove, it was just like so many trips we have made along this stretch. We passed Jim Redhead who was moored near bridge 13 before we passed under the A5 and tied up opposite the Limekilns pub. Sue phoned Cliff to tell him where we were but he needed to pass through to get diesel and a pump out at Trinity marina. At midday we walked over to the pub and had lunch, each having a gammon steak with pineapple, egg, peas and chips. An excellent choice and all for £8 each.

After lunch we walked to the Trinity marina to look at the chandlery there before walking back along the towpath to where PhoenixIII was sitting at the Limekilns. We passed Cliff as he headed towards Stoke Golding and home and reminded him that we would see them later in the week. A few minutes later and we were back on board our boat, the gentle heat from the fire welcoming us home and encouraging us to sit down and relax for the rest of the day.

We were greeted by blue skies and bright sunshine when Sue jumped out of bed at six thirty on Tuesday morning. Half an hour later and she was off, untied and heading north again on the Ashby as I got washed and dressed inside the cabin. We swapped over a little while later, there is nothing finer than early morning boating in the sunshine although the temperature was still quite low. We have travelled this way many times but for the first time ever I spotted a weather vane with a pig on top of it and made a mental note to photograph it on the way back.

We plodded on to Market Bosworth stopping only to use the services at Sutton Cheney. It was interesting to see that all the information about Bosworth battlefield has been removed and half of the offside mooring is no more, all because it turns out that the battle site is actually a few miles away near Stoke Golding. The visitor moorings were pretty much deserted when we arrived at ten thirty so we winded and tied up on the forwardmost mooring position. We took our traditional walk up the hill to the town where we bought the papers and headed for the Red Lion where we spent a couple of hours relaxing. The bar soon filled up with a noisy group of grey haired pensioners, a local walking group we later discovered. We left the Red Lion and returned to the canal after picking up a few items from the local Co-op. We spent the rest of the afternoon sitting outside until it became too chilly to do so We then closed up the doors and watch some television prior to turning in for the night.

Another bright sunny start but we lazed in bed until nine o’clock undecided in what to do. Eventually we decided to set off and run to the lower half of the Ashby where we would moor for the night. It all changed when I had a text message from one our friends, Nigel asking some questions about a caravan that he had just bought. We sort of arranged to meet up with him somewhere in the Hinckley area but when we approached Stoke Golding village moorings and saw that they were empty, we decided to pull in and end our journey. Apart from being a fairly convenient place to meet Nigel we would also be able to see if Cliff fancied meeting up for a drink later in the day. Nigel turned up half an hour later and we spent a pleasant afternoon showing him over the boat and just generally catching up on events.

Sue rang Cliff after we had eaten lunch and then spent the afternoon relaxing on board waiting prior to our walk up to the Dog and Hedgehog at Dadlington.

We awoke around seven o’clock to a blue sky with a light mist hanging over the canal at Stoke Golding. We untied at eight and made our way back in the direction of Hinckley where we stopped for a few minutes to buy some milk at the marina shop. We only paused briefly to drop off a bit of lunch for our friend Jim as he finished off a painting where he moored near bridge 13.

We cruised on down the Ashby, the weather was kind to us but Sue spent most of the time inside baking bread and doing the washing. As we neared Bulkington, Sue appeared with a giant home made ciabatta filled with sausage and egg for me – much appreciated although it beat me in the end and I couldn’t quite manage it all.

When we reached Sutton Stop we encountered a bit of a jam as we joined a queue of boats waiting to pass through the lock. We were treated to a moment or two of entertainment as an Ashby boat failed miserably in his attempt to leave the turn and head north on the Coventry canal. A share boat captain found it necessary to advise us on how and where to position our boat for the lock. I’m always happy to take advice but not from someone who can’t actually control his own vessel.

The rain started just as we left Hawkesbury but it only lasted for half an hour or so and therefore we carried on parallel with the M6 for a while, under the M69 and on through Ansty behind the Rose and Castle. We caught up with Share-boat man at Stretton Stop and watched in amazement as he took ten minutes to find his way through the swing bridge there. We passed him just before All Oaks wood where he had pulled in and moored up for the night – thank goodness!

The sun was shining brightly as we passed through Rugby and concluded our journey ending with the finding of a perfect mooring just below Hillmorton locks. We ate our evening meal out on the deck before feeding the swans and watching the sun go down before returning inside and settling down for the night.

I had a rotten night’s sleep, I awoke to some strange sounds around half past midnight and took about half an hour to realise that there was a gang of men working on the nearby railway line. The noise wasn’t loud but it interrupted my sleep for the next four hours. At six o’clock the sun shone and the sky was blue but by half past seven it was dark again. A mixture of cloud and fog obscured the sun, reduced visibility to around fifty yards and generally made the outside cold, damp and miserable. By half past nine we felt that the fog had lifted sufficiently to untie and make a start to the boating day.

There were only a few boats around as we climbed through the Hillmorton locks noting that the previously closed locks had been unchained and were available for use. Once we had cleared the locks, Sue started the preparation of lunch and made some bread mix before taking a shower. I followed suit with my shower while Sue took over at the tiller, an arrangement which meant that we had made best use of the hot water being generated by the engine. There was a steady stream of traffic around, mainly hire boats, mainly well behaved except one from Rose Narrowboats crewed by children seemingly. Their antics as they passed under a bridge and lost control earned them a sharp rebuke from Susan.

As we passed Willoughby wharf the sun came out and all of a sudden the clouds disappeared, plunging us into a beautiful summer’s day. We stopped and ate lunch opposite the Boathouse pub where we eaten the previous Saturday before we walked up to Braunston village where we did some shopping. The weather had changed so dramatically in such a short space of time that it was easy to forget the cold dank conditions that we had experienced just afew hours earlier.

Returning to the boat we moved on and replenished the water tank as well at the same time carrying out our regular services before turning around in the entrance to the marina. We then basked in the afternoon sunshine as we travelled at tickover speed back to Braunston turn and then made a left turn in the direction of Napton. And that was it really, we just took our time and eventually picked our mooring spot just beyond bridge 100. We spent the rest of the afternoon just sitting out on the grass with a drink just enjoying the April sunshine after I had carried out a couple of minor maintenance jobs.

Another bright but chilly day greeted us on this Saturday morning. We had decided to return to Braunston so that we could get home and have a full day there on Sunday. Despite the fact that we knew that we had to continue travelling away from Braunston first, we knew the journey was still a relatively short one. We were in no hurry to leave our mooring but finally made a move just after ten o’clock, heading for bridge 107 where we would be able to turn around. As usual this section of the canal had a steady stream of traffic in both directions but we had no trouble in making our necessary manouvre. We passed a couple of day hire boats along the way but our only ‘interesting’ moment came when an oncoming private boat appeared to lose control and run into the bank. After hanging back to allow them time to recover their position we discovered that the family dog had decided to take its first swim in the canal without warning. By the time we passed by, the canine was back on board none the worse for its experience but the humans seemed to be still in shock after the event.

We arrived back at the marina just after midday and with our neighbouring boats missing from their berths, it was easy to reverse on to the pontoon despite the fairly strong wind.

So that was it, our holiday was over. We hadn’t been anywhere new but we’d had a good time just pinging around from place to place, visiting old haunts and seeing some old faces.

Our weekend sort of started on Thursday when we travelled to Braunston after work. After eating our evening meal of chicken breast wrapped in bacon and stuffed with cheese and pesto, we took a walk around the village only stopping for refreshment at the Old Plough and at the Boathouse before returning to our part time home.

Work sadly continues to intrude and Friday was no exception, the trip to Basingstoke in Hampshire is one that I often make but not normally from Braunston and not normally with Sue either. Thick fog clung to the landscape as we made our way along the Daventry to Banbury road before we joined the M40 at junction 11. We stopped just off the A34 around 8am a short distance from the Peartree interchange where Sue left me and boarded a bus bound for Oxford city centre.

I collected Sue from the same location at half past one, she had endured a hard morning’s shopping followed by lunch at Jamie Oliver’s restaurant in Oxford before returning to the Peartree park and ride.

We were back in Braunston an hour later and we wasted no time in getting ready to leave for the weekend. Unusually, the new engine started with some difficulty but eventually spluttered into life. It proved to be a tight squeeze getting the boat out of her berth but as usual we persevered and left the marina by the private entrance. We had no plans as such but we headed off in the direction of Napton, passing the junction and tying up near the Bridge Inn. We had our evening meal and then took a walk to the pub for a bit of exercise and and a quick drink before returning to the boat for the evening.

It was a misty start to Saturday morning by which time we had decided to turn around and head for Stockton on the Grand Union, a place that we have visited on a number of occasions. We had a delicious cooked breakfast as we waited for the visibility to improve and by nine o’clock we were ready to move on. We saw a few boats climbing the three locks at Calcutt but we travelled down on our own. We saw very few boats on the move as we made our way to Stockton where we eventually moored just before the bridge where the Boat Inn sits.

The mist had well and truly disappeared and we had already enjoyed a couple of hours of blue skies and sunshine before we tied up on the straight above bridge 21. We sorted ourselves out before we started our towpath walk down to the village of Long Itchington. After visiting the local Co-op store we stopped off at the Buck and Bell where I sampled a couple of local beers and we shared a light lunch, a sample platter of bread, hummus, vine leaves and peppers stuffed with cheese. After leaving the Buck and Bell we made our way to the Cuttle Inn just to see what it had to offer and it was alright. We then made our way to the opposite bank and visited the Two Boats where we had another drink before climbing the towpath back to our mooring. We enjoyed the last couple of hours of sunshine on the back deck before we retired for the evening after having a shower. Our pictures of the village are in the gallery: Long Itchington

The last weekend in March as usual means that the clocks move forward an hour as we embrace British Summer Time. Most countries around the world do the same thing but it is known as DST or Daylight Saving Time but I like the fact that we have BST. In my mind it is a statement that time belongs to Britain, re-inforced by the fact that the centre of world time is the Greenwich meridien. Regardless of whether we ‘own’ world time or not, we still have to alter the clocks on board so after we’ve done that and drunk our first tea of the day, we headed off and turned at Kate Boats before starting our journey back. A wide beam would not have been able to continue past this point as the picture clearly shows, presumably hire companies can do what they like when it comes to blocking the canal.

Leaving Stockton behind we made our way back towards Napton but stopped for breakfast just before bridge 19. Another gut-busting cooked breakfast of top quality bacon, sausage, black pudding and egg was enough to set us up for the day and so we set off for our ascent of the Calcutt locks. We waited at the bottom lock while two boats ascending swapped with two on the way down, by the time that those two emerged we had been joined by another which had just pulled out of the marina. We rose through the first two locks together and in an effort to save water, waited for a descending boat and set the locks accordingly. Our plans were scuppered when another boat pulled off the diesel point to ‘steal’ the top lock, well half of it at least! We left our companions behind and joined the lock thief for the last of the Calcutt flight. First out of the lock, we made our way to the junction at Napton, turning left and starting the journey back to Braunston.

We were of course enjoying yet another beautiful day and we decided to stop near the village of Lower Shuckburgh where we could visit the Victorian church that we had admired many times as we passed by on the canal. We weren’t disappointed although it is disheartening to find that like so many other churches, the one at Shuckburgh is locked for security reasons. Lower Shuckburgh

We returned to the boat by way of the footpath that crosses the canal at bridge 105 and then after we untied, we started the final leg of our journey back to Braunston. The fantastic weather had ensured that the canal was full of boat traffic but it was good to feel part of it all as we made our way through the sunlit countryside. It was tickover all the way from Wolfhampcote back to the marina, passing the Boathouse pub we noted that the moorings were full as was the car park and every table outside.

Half past two and we were back in our our berth in the marina, relaxed and satisfied after the weekend which had been blessed by lovely weather. We cleared up the things that we needed to carry to the car and then it was time for us to leave, back to our other life on dry land.