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.

Hurray! It’s another bank holiday weekend and as usual, the weather’s going to be unsettled. We awoke to an early morning downpour at around seven o’clock but by the time we had had the statutory cup of tea followed by coffee, the sun was out and it all looked good. We untied and left Hunton Bridge before making the short trip to Kings Langley, where, as we ascended the village lock, we got talking to the crew of a widebeam who had just arrived and waited to take our place in the lock chamber. The boat, and the one behind which arrived a few minutes later, were community boats and today they were carrying members of an addiction group called The Living Room. We crossed over and then moored up above the lock before walking up to the village.

Kings Langley was once home to the Ovaltine factory which from the railway still looks as it did all of those decades ago. From the canalside all that is visible is new housing development and just the top of what would once have been the top of the factory. The big question being, are the people who live there known as Kings Langleyites or simply Ovaltineys?

As Pearson’s guide promises, the main street through the village is lovely, small shops immaculately kept. We wandered along both sides of the road before carrying out some research at The Rose & Crown where we had a light lunch and a couple of drinks. This wasn’t the only research of the day as earlier, on our walk to the village, we had wandered through the local churchyard, yet another episode of ‘Suzy’s Boneyard Tour of Britain’. The heavens opened while we were eating in the Rose & Crown but by the time we were ready to leave, the sun was shining once again.

After reaching our temporary mooring we set off once again and continued our long climb into the Chilterns. The sky darkened but the rain came to nothing as we passed through Apsley, although we did hear thunder rumbling in the distance. We saw a cricket match in progress as we skirted around Hemel Hempstead and shortly after the heavens opened again for a short sharp burst. It soon stopped and we carried on until we reached Winkwell, where after passing through the swing bridge, we tied on the visitor moorings which are only a short walk from the Three Horseshoes which is yet another research facility. It’s a wonder anything ever got delivered by canal in the past with so many distractions for the boaters of old!

We had a relatively late start to the first day of our return journey and didn’t set off until half past ten. Not that we were idle, Sue did the washing and made a great cooked breakfast, one that we ate out on the back deck. I didn’t do too much beyond the daily checks and chores along with a couple of minor bits of maintenance.

The journey back is easily marked since this was originally the Grand Junction canal so the mileposts count the distance to Braunston and the locks decrease in number with number one being Braunston bottom lock. We stopped for water and emptied the bin below Copper Mill lock and then made our way back to Batchworth lock where we stopped for a short while at Tesco for a couple of bits before emptying the toilet at the sanitary station just below the lock. We had met a grey haired couple who seemed a little eccentric as they boated in the opposite direction to us and they warned us of low water levels ahead. It wasn’t until we exited lock 80 that we saw just how low the pound was there. I have no idea what had caused the problem because the level was restored once we had climbed into the next pound. Entry into Common Moor lock (79) was very difficult but Sue did a sterling job and we avoided having to run some water into the pound. Nevertheless it made the lock so deep that it was difficult to secure the boat with the centre rope so we had to take our time and fill it very carefully.

Once back in water of a normal level we progressed well enough and at Iron bridge lock we caught up with a fibreglass cruiser. It was the owners first boat, a project he said, but a narrowboat was what he wanted next. With his two friends for company we worked up through the next three locks. We explained to them the best order in which to open paddles so that the boats would not moved around in the lock too much. His ‘project’ is in the early stages and we didn’t want to damage it by banging it in the lock, Phoenix III at fifty two feet is by no means a large boat but it would make short work of a small ‘glass cruiser if it got out of control when the water rushed in to the chamber.

We parted company after Cassiobury park and wished him luck with his project. At this stage we were leaving the area depicted in both the Pearson and Nicholson guides as having vast expanses of water to the west of the canal. This has been a bit of a disappointment to us because except for the odd glimpse of water, these flooded gravel pits are well hidden by woodland. In fact the only visible landmark is the giant sewage works and believe me you don’t need to see it to know that it is there.

We made our way through some more locks until we moored near bridge 162 at Hunton Bridge. We had stopped here briefly for lunch a couple of days ago and although it is near a main road, it seems like a good place to stay the night. Once again we have had to hammer pins into the ground but that is to be expected since the banks on this canal were lined with concrete many years ago so we don’t have the easy and more modern way of mooring using piling pins.

Yet another sunny morning greeted us as we awoke in Ricksmanworth. We showered and then had breakfast before walking into town again. Sue took a wander around the shops while I sat and read the paper in the local Weatherspoons. We were re-united at around half past twelve when Sue had a coffee and then we returned to the boat taking in the local canal centre along the way.

We made the short hop to the local Tesco store on the other side of the canal and stocked up on a few essential groceries. It was almost half past one when we started out on our travels but the weather was still lovely so it was a very enjoyable experience. We carried on down through the locks until we passed through Black Jack’s lock after which we turned around just above Wide water lock. That was it, our journey had come to an end, Phoenix III was now pointing north ready for her trip home.

We tied up and after a celebratory gin and tonic each we fed the swans and then wandered down to the local pub, the Horse and Barge at South Harefield.