Showing posts from January, 2012

Grand Union Canal. Warwick. (Still)

We did go to the Cape of Good Hope and, three weeks later, we’re still here.
This has been due to two fundamental errors on our part. First we’d innocently assumed that the British Waterways Lock Closures List would have referred to Hatton Bottom Lock as “Hatton Bottom Lock”, which is what everyone knows it as, what the sign at the visitors picnic site calls it and what BW’s own waterways map has it marked as. Calling it Budbrook Road Lock and closing it two days before we had planned to go through it was a masterstroke in deception and caught us completely off guard. Not just us it seems, there are now several boats hanging about, their crews raising their eyebrows at each other and subsidising the local pubs.

Our second faux pas was to expect it to open when the aforementioned list said it would - ie. Saturday - and on that basis arrange for a posse of willing helpers to turn up on Sunday, ready and eager to wind paddles and push gates in exchange for baked goods. This morning we w…

Grand Union Canal. Welsh Road to Warwick.

Well, that all went splendidly!
We did one of our famous whistle-stop tours of southern England with military precision. In fact it was a re-run of last year but without Ken or the snow. It’s so lovely to visit people at Christmas, the happy faces when they open their front door, their houses lit up and decorated and oozing excitement all over the place – we can’t think of a better thing to do!

We got back to legend on Christmas Eve with just enough time to get the fire going and the inside warm before Anne turned up. Perfik.

We were all awake at 6am with bulging stockings, acting like kids and giggling “He’s Been!” at each other. After a breakfast of mostly chocolate pennies we watched the sun rise.
Then, wearing Santa hats, or in Anne’s case her new hot water bottle cover, we cast off and dropped down the 6 lock to Leamington, wishing everyone we saw a Very Merry Christmas. Ann-Marie conjured up mince pies en-route while Anne threw herself into the role of first mate.
It doesn’t get …