Monday 17th to Saturday 22nd December 2007

This week we have been mostly experiencing ice, birthdays and four legged visitors. That is apart from a Tesco delivery – still a bit of a novelty for me.

Ice has been on and off the canal all week, usually on when it’s time to move off and off when we’re staying on. The sky has been grey, grey, grey, almost clear and back to grey.

The birthday was V’s. She doesn’t want anyone to know she’s (edited) so I’m sworn to secrecy.
A jolly good slap-up meal was had at the Thai restaurant in Harbro’ for which Claire and Ter made a foursome. Thai has always been a puzzle to me so I was glad of a mixture of ‘set meals’ which gave me plenty of taste experiences without blowing my head off.

Two other highlights of the week after moving to Foxton were cleaning the brasses (‘Limelight’ only just managed it this time, I shouldn’t have left it so long), and boats transiting the Foxton flight. The absence of boats on the move is such a contrast to the Trent & Mersey in the summer where “Slow Down .......” punctuates every conversation.

Another highlight was a visit from Mike and Jo (nb.Sarah-Kate) who popped in for coffee and to share their yummy pecan cake from foreign places.

But the weirdest bit was nocturnal visitors.

Rustle, rustle at 5 in the morning, somewhere in the cratch. A plate of nibbles brought out the culprit and the Eye-Spy book identified him as a rat.

This time we left ‘special’ blue ratty nibbles between the coal sacks and they promptly disappeared. A second plate disappeared soon after and by the next night we were clean out of rats. That was until the following day when I watched an unsupervised junior do his little tricks outside our porthole.
Without a care in the world this fella paraded and performed for the camera. Climbing stalks looking for seed pods, digging up plant roots and playing with the sparrows, he amused me until I couldn’t bring myself to dislike little rats anymore. Now I see why they make great pets.

My next task is to catch one, tame it and educate him in boat life. Saw someone walking a ferret on the tow path once, so perhaps I can get a ratty harness and lead for my new friend.
By day he could sit on the tiller arm as we cruise the canals but if he insists of sleeping during daylight hours then he could go exploring by night, checking out the tow path and other boats.

Just have to get this idea passed by V.

Anyone got a bird cage they don’t want?

Blogging is bound to suffer for a few days during the festivities but I’ve no doubt that the camera won’t miss a thing. It will then depend on what the editor (V) permits me to upload.

All that remains is for V and me to wish you all a Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year.

From Monday 10th Dec to Sunday 16th Dec 2007

This week we’re mostly lurking around Market Harborough. Not in it because “Debbie” walks the towpath every day, noting the over-stayers and persuading them to clear off. Once again BW have sold off all but a couple of the 48 hour moorings so that only two visiting boats can be accommodated within half a mile of Union Wharf. Sure, we tried to book a few days here ourselves but the fortunate ones grabbed their spaces early – April, can you believe it. There are eight visitor spaces in the summer but only two in the winter.

On Tuesday the temperatures shot through the floor and threatened to turn the canal solid. We had just picked up cousin Michael from Harbro and were in the middle of nowhere, en-route to Foxton. When we awoke on Wednesday we found ourselves frozen in.

The forecast was more of the same so we had no choice but to smash our way through to Foxton, walk the locks and head back to Harbro. The ice was thick enough (6mm) to give us an advantage, we found we could cruise up to the bank, close enough to jump ashore and collect logs for the fire without the fear of the boat drifting away from the bank.

Thursday was drop off day, no not frozen fingers but Michael at Harbro’ for his return to Bristol. I hope he enjoyed himself though it’s not the best time of the year to explore canals.

There was a fitting end to the day, the annual IWA bun fight. Mike and Jo (nb.Sarah-Kate) went well out of their way, again, to collect and return us for which we are so very grateful. This year we didn’t win all the prizes but the nosh and speeches were excellent and we felt at home amongst the 30 plus now familiar faces.

With a Tesco delivery at Foxton on Monday we couldn’t hang around the wharf any longer and set off in more temperate waters but once out of Harbro’s harbour we hit the solid stuff again. There was no one else on the move so it was an ice-breaking cruise all the way to Foxton. It was up to 12mm thick in places, so the ice has tested our new hull blacking.

Saturday brought more surprises, nieces Mary and Lorraine and cousin Roger and Babs from nb.Megan. There was some frivolity at the dinette while serious boat improvements got sorted at the easy chairs in front of the fire. Subjects revolved around discovering new sources of electrical energy, moving heat from one end of a boat to the other, labour saving ideas and the inevitable improvements to boat loos. Conversion to electric drive is still on R+B’s plans and the “boat stretch” is back on the cards again.

And another treat, lunch at the Black Horse, meant we were stuffed for the rest of the day. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Christmas decorations have gone up in the boat, golden glittery things above the cards, a tree in a basket and Christmas lights (LEDs of course). A pheasant’s tail would look nice on the tiller but they’ve disappeared from the fields. They seem to know when it’s a dangerous time of year because they’ll all reappear again in January.

Sunday sees the return of the sunshine and a wet canal and we’re in serious danger of going for a walk.

Winter means very little cruising and this week’s temperatures has meant we’ve kept our heads down as much as possible. Getting dark at 3.30 doesn’t help either and the traffic has all but stopped in these parts. Even Canaltime has closed for the run up to Christmas so there’s only the TV for entertainment these days.

No doubt the highlight for some people this week was the LED Zeppellin concert, but I found it a bit disappointing, there wasn’t a single LED to be seen.

Monday 3rd December 2007
Hemmed in by sloping fields, thorn bushes and tall brown reeds we melt into the countryside miles from any town. The occasional straight section on this winding canal between Debdale and Saddington offers a handful of ideal mooring spaces where reeds are worn back to the steelwork by frequent summer visitors. Though we are a stone’s throw from Debdale Wharf there’s hardly a sound to be heard and most of that comes from a remote farm or kennels where dogs greet the occasional passing car.

It takes a complete day for the birdfeeder to get ‘discovered’ and another day before the bushes fill with birds. Robins stare at the blue tits as they pull seeds from the tiny tray and get to work on the shells. A wedge of cake stuffed in the fork of branches is soon set upon by a pair of robins who call back every hour for a top-up until it’s all gone.

It still amazes me how a pack of dogs chasing each other down the tow path can suddenly, without a word being spoken, put their athletics on hold while they search out the smallest scrap of cake in the bushes. Once found they resume their chase as though nothing had happened. What a sense of smell they must have.

The sun appeared for a while so I took the chance to service the engine and batteries.
Working round a warm engine half hidden below the stern deck I could hear the walkers’ comments as they wandered past. I can see why some people give their boats funny names because most walkers can’t resist saying it out aloud as they pass, as if no one can hear them. Our next boat (if there is one) might have a riddle for its name.

The engine’s clock says it has run for 3020 hours, since December 2005. This is about 72,000 miles by road if service schedules are any guide to engine life. For a diesel this is nothing, a rep’s car perhaps, but for two years on the canals it seems excessive. Could this mean a new engine in 5 years time?

Batteries are something else. They have taken a battering and their capacity is down to a third of what it was two years ago. At this rate we’ll have to change them before next winter.

Had some time to spare so read the Afghan by Freddy Forsyth. I don’t read much, too busy doing things to sit and read but this was an easy one and wasn’t full of what I call padding (eg. his steel grey eyes and stubbly dimpled chin....).There are some beautiful, heavy books on the shelf that have been started and never finished but they need several days of uninterrupted reading to do them justice. I’m looking forward to hot lazy days on the Fens to finish books like “A Peace to end all Peace” and “Spies, Lies and Whistleblowers”.

Tues 4th
It’s a grey day and the rain tried several times but never amounted to much.
In these parts passing boats are a rare treat during the winter months so what does appear round the corner gets our full attention and the customary wave before it disappears round the next. Then we speculate on where she’s going, how she’s going to avoid the winter stoppages and how soon she’ll be back. There’s no way to prove our theories so as always we’re both right.
Popped out to fill the coal bucket and caught a kingfisher perching on the boat. Where is the camera when you need it? Didn’t catch it in time but here’s one taken by Maureen on nb.Madas ….. earlier this year.

Wed 5th
Moving out day. It’s a shame to take down the bird feeder but I left bread in its place and scattered bird seed on the ground under the bushes so at least the finches have something to find after we’ve gone.
Pausing at Debdale Wharf we restock with gas and coal and continue southwards towards Foxton.
We bumped into BW’s Richard doing a spot of dredging before the visitor’s moorings and marvelled at the way his work boat didn’t sink as it dived and turned underneath its hydraulic bucket.

Re-watering at Foxton locks I called in at Mary’s shop for provisions. We only needed engine oil, milk and bread but this amazingly well stocked shop can supply just about everything one could want on a narrowboat.

We stopped after Gallows Hill Bridge on a stretch of piling hundreds of yards long with just one boat at the far end. While the wind playing tricks with the steering my skills as a tree surgeon came into play as we clouted the bank side next to an ancient spinney with its dead trees. I moored just out of range of the riskiest ones and watched woodpeckers and squirrels perform on the stunted broken branches.

Thursday 6th
We’re off again, ropes were stowed and the boat got under way as it started raining.

Gliding between the lines of ivy covered trees that edge the fields of winter barley it’s hard to get cross with the drizzle as it freshens the scenery and cleans the boat.

No sirens, no trucks, no cars, we’re completely alone on our own little waterway in the middle of nowhere.

As the water ripples from bow to bank giant fish flop their tails into the air and disappear below the surface. Ducks turn to face us while moorhens scoot up the grassy bank to hide in the bushes. A kingfisher swoops out of nowhere and zooms across the water ahead of us to land on the lowest branch and wait until we catch him up.

You can keep your houses, towns, and motorways, I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be. Winter has much to offer those who appreciate solitude and the beauty of nature.

Friday 7th
Moored at Market Harborough we once more engage with the inevitable routine of a boater’s life and restock the cupboards.

As night falls we return to Harbro’ to see the Christmas lights and enjoy the party atmosphere in the closed off town centre. While it was late night shopping for some it was mulled wine and mince pies for others as the crowds swarmed around the entertainment. With Morris dancing, carousels, brass bands and a Santa Claus on every corner we joined in the festivities, sang carols in the church and queued for hot roast chestnuts.

Though it was cold with a north wind whistling down the main street youngsters still wandered about in summer’s short sleeved shirts, the girls baring their tummies. Us old ‘uns wrapped up warm, though none were as lucky as this fella peeping out of his mummy’s parka.

Saturday 8th
I’d forgotten about the Harbro’ swans and their peck, peck, peck at 6.30 in the morning. I waited until they’d left before I fed the moorhens. They’re a more civilised breed and seem to get the idea of peddling over for the bread and taking it back to the reeds. And when it’s all gone they go away, there’s none of this pecking on the boat every time they’re hungry.

Our 48 hours are up, and we ought to move on but the boat behind us suddenly sets off towards Union Wharf boat basin. Rats! another five minutes and we could have beaten him to the services. But wait, he’s turning and coming back, he passes us heading towards Foxton, hurrah. We start the engine and throw ropes in the air as we lunge for the services and its water point. Terribly uncivilised but this is what happens to ex-townies before they’re completely broken in to country ways. It’s all smiles one day and competition for resources the next.

I think I know the secret of rain. As I turn the key and start the engine the clouds open up.

Running in automatic we fill one tank, empty another and walk the rubbish bags to the boater’s compound in the rain. Immediately we set off from Union Wharf the rain stopped. Typical.

At bridge 14 we pulled in and the rain started again. It needn’t have bothered, the towpath puddles are already deep and wide with two narrow strips of grass where the brave walk one side and fall in the canal or walk the other and snag on the brambles.
But once inside we settle down and get the fire going. A rosy glow spreads along the boat and all is well again. Wet clothes hung in the bathroom are dry by the end of the day.

Sunday 9th December 2007
The weather is changeable and as the rain stops so the walkers come out and I do a spot of dog stroking. Isn’t he lovely, how old is he? She’s only six months old and she loves everyone she meets. Oops, I still haven’t got the hang of dog gendering.

There’s just room on the grassy bit by the boat to chop logs and as always happens the last swing of the axe sends one piece into a puddle while the other leaps into the canal.

Back indoors it’s time for some serious work - computer cleaning. Thanks to Sue I’ve got an excellent freeby program called TuneUp Utilities, a 30 day free program that gets the computer back to the speeds we knew when it first came out of the box.

But then the swans found us. Peck, peck, peck on the boat like there’s no tomorrow. I threw bread and that didn’t work. I threw out the crumbs from the current cake and they left straight afterwards. I think I’ve found the answer.

Monday 26th Nov 2007
It’s a crooosin’ day so we left Kilby Bridge, in the boat of course, heading for the parishes of Blaby and Glen Parva. Reason? - one of us has to visit the quacks.

Passing a garden on the way through South Wigston I was reminded of the comment posted by Granny Buttons earlier this year (?) on a cruise north. It was something along the lines of “What kind of plants or veggies is he trying to grow?”

Well Andrew, he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to grow anything, unless it’s a brick shed. Perhaps we could keep it alive with funny captions or maybe you could expand it by running a nationwide competition to find the strangest back garden on the cut.
Try as I might I couldn’t find the picture you took, and I really wanted to post its link.

I was heartened to see that Canada geese are returning to the area. Whole colonies had vanished over the summer months but there are signs that they’ve missed us and are returning to their old haunts along the Leicester Line.

Apart from the geese and the ‘garden’ not much else has changed and that also goes for the County Arms at Blaby Bridge.

That earlier canal pioneer Tom Rolt had this to say about the County Arms in 1939, “As we approached [Blaby]… we sighted, standing beside the canal, what we at first took to be an ultra-modern factory of the type which disgraces the Great West Road. On closer approach, however, the building revealed itself as a monster ‘gin-palace’, the ultimate apotheosis of brewers’ taste manifested in the super-cinema style. There could be no doubt of its commercial success, for the place was crowded with clerks, typists and mill-hands of Leicester, while a score of white-jacketed barmen hurried ceaselessly to and fro. Only American slang can adequately convey the atmosphere; it was ‘one hundred percent.’, in place of quality an overwhelming quantity being substituted upon the same principle as the film producer’s thousand extras, herding or stampeding elephants, or triple revolving stages.”

He goes on to say there was dancing, a young man crooning into a microphone and a dozen dart boards. The huge expanse of car park was filled with small saloons as like a row of beans, a playground where the future citizens of Leicester might disport themselves while daddy sank a pint or so and mummy had a glass of stout or a glass of more refined port and lemon.
What summed it up, and hasn’t changed, is his comment “The friendly, intimate atmosphere of the English inn was entirely lacking and the quality of the beer was execrable”.

(I had to look it up too, it means utterly detestable; abominable; abhorrent)

Execrable indeed.

Plans to knock it down (hurrah) and build blocks or flats (boo) have fallen through (hurrah). My suggestion of making it a free doctors, dentists, men’s hairdressers and boat chandlers hasn’t yet been taken up. But it’s early days.

Tues 27th Nov
Hoppy went to the doctors to get another opinion on ‘the knee’. Seems you can never have enough opinions, there’s them that’s had a bad knee once before, there’s the internet DIY health websites and there’s the first doctor’s visit followed by the second and maybe a third. Referral to a specialist is today’s result and arranging a visit may take a few weeks because it has to be done by post and she could be summoned to any one of several locations in Leicestershire. Oh the joys of living on a boat.

To take our minds off it we caught the bus into Leicester. The message on the bus stop said we could get a special ticket for £2.40 return but it was our mistake, the driver pointed out that we were outside the necessary radius from the city centre. We had neglected to measure the distance to Leicester’s Town Hall and so coughed up the full fare. Can’t wait for my bus pass. Only another ten years to go (oh yeah).

It was fun walking round the market, it’s still “Pound a bowl” in the veggy section, whatever that means.

A big event in my life, bought new shoes and not for £79.99 or £55.99 but £29.99 at jolly old Clarks too. Thought of Vic (nb.No Problem, Tues Nov 27th 2007) and the state of his slippers but didn’t see any as nice as his even on the market stalls.
Bought a car adaptor for the laptop, part of a plan being hatched to save engine wear while browsing the internet now we’ve got loads of gigabytes to waste. More of that later, perhaps.

Three enormous christmas trees have gone up outside the shops by the market place and tired looking decorations have begun to appear along the streets and pedestrian areas. It was summed up by a boater we passed who, when I asked if he was looking forward to Christmas, remarked “Neeerrr, not any more, it’s lost its novelty”.

Wed 28th Nov
Back at Blaby or Glen Parva, depends which side of the canal you’re on, I’m not sure it’s wise to encourage cycling on the towpath, it seems to be fraught with risks on canals around Leicester. We counted a dozen bicycles pulled from the canal in a ¼ mile stretch which tells us that children and adults alike get distracted and topple into the canal.

Shopping at the local supermarket comes in as second riskiest occupation, judging by the number of trollies that have accidentally fallen over the edge and taken their pushers to a watery end.

Thursday 29th Nov
Blaby (say it “Blay–bee” not Blabby) is done and dusted and it’s time for us to leave. Approaching Dunn’s lock we bumped into the fella that ran his hose pipe out to our boat last winter when we were seriously iced in. This time he gave us a couple of pocket diaries, how kind. We can’t use them because we write a-page-a-day so they’ll do for Christmas presents for the family (only kidding), (not),(am).

Up at Double Rail lock (so called because a large lady fell in one night and accused the authorities of maintaining a dangerous footpath so they hemmed her in between two handrails) our nice local BW team are out and about on maintenance.
They’re painting balance beams black because we’re all fed up with reading the same old graffiti.

The funniest graff’ we’ve seen this year is the “wet paint” sign written in black on the white beam ends. You can imagine hire boaters arriving at the lock and wondering how they we’re going to push the beams without getting paint all over their clothes.
Arriving at Kilby Bridge we were ‘welcomed’ by the same old faces on the 48 hour moorings. TV aerial up and food in our bellies we toasted our pinkies by the fire, another weary day over.

Friday 30th Nov
Waiting at the bus stop we noticed trees with opening leaf buds. ‘Strordinary and it’s only November. Do they think it’s all over?

A pound to Wigston on the bus, and I still can’t wait for my bus pass.

In Wigston I raided the hardware shops while V cleared the supermarket shelves.

I’d planned an oil change but it looks like rain. It will have to wait, so had a haircut instead. V’s getting quite good at this despite the protests.

T and C for dinner and a mail drop for us. Slurp, nosh and more bills.

Saturday 1st Dec
Moving again, this time from Kilby Bridge towards Wistow for the weekend. We came up behind Mark on nb.Kayos taking the same journey single-handed so shared locks and made the journey more pleasurable and faster in spite of the fierce side winds which upset lock entries and exits. Got into a routine and we were doing so well that we decided to carry on towards Debdale.

Mark’s padlocked diesel filler cap reminded us that we could encounter the tea-leaf in these parts so we did our best to keep everything locked or out of sight.
Had Mark round for a post cruise drink and learnt of his narrow escape from asphyxiation. It was all thanks to towpath beer swillers who slipped their empties down his chimney one night while he slept. He awoke to the carbon monoxide alarm shrieking and found his fire wasn’t burning too well.
It was very much a mystery until brushing the chimney the next day he found four beer cans deposited by his previous night’s visitors.
My guess is that there was no thought given to the consequences at the time the cans were disposed of, and that this was just an ignorant bit of fun on their part. Makes me realise the importance of having both smoke and CO detectors.

On a lighter note I spotted a bat stuck to the brickwork outside a bat box in Saddington Tunnel. Could this be a reminder of the Christmas story “No room in the inn”?

Sunday 2nd December 2007
A cold day, a windy day, but not an oil change day. Could this also be a tree falling down day? Must sharpen the saw.

Just one boat passed today, heading south. We’re close to Debdale Wharf with its marina but no one’s cruising in this weather. Even Mark has stayed put, a 67 footer isn’t fun when it’s blowing a gale and you’re cruising solo.

As for us, we’ll sit out the storms within sight of the “pleasant enough villages of Smeeton Westerby and Gumley, perched upon its hill-top”....as Tom Rolt would say.