Waverton to Ellesmere Port. Shropshire Union Canal.

Getting to the Marathon to see Chloe run did not go to plan. First, the train we were going to catch from Karen’s left the station just as we got there so we were an hour later than we wanted to be. Then, because of the mass of people around Canary Wharf, we couldn’t get to the 18 mile mark where we’d agreed to be standing and waving, along with most of Chloe’s other relatives, and ended up at about 18½. However, rather than fate plotting against us, it seemed that our dear friend Karma was at work, once again nudging good fortune into our path. Chloe had a transponder so we could track her progress every 5km and we knew when she ought to be near. After 20 minutes of leaning over the barrier desperately scanning the endless stream of runners coming towards us we were all mesmerised and about ready to give up and accept the fact that we’d missed her.

Then Dave suddenly yelled out “Chloe!!” And there she was right in front of us!

There were hugs and tears all round and then she was off again to whoops and whistles and shouts of “Go Chloe!”  It was one of those snapshots of life that you know you’re going to replay again and again, and each time you do it will bring a smile to your lips and a lump to your heart - and we could so easily have missed it. If we’d been an hour earlier we’d have been at Mile 18 along with a huge crush of other people and we’d have not seen anything. Nobody else managed to get there either so it was a huge boost for her to see us. We are very proud to report that our daughter finished in a very respectable 4:42 and was the fastest female running for the British Forces Foundation.

Back on the boat spring has been bursting out all over.

We’re very proud of our floral display this year; the idea is to colour code the flowers each year to make it easier to date the photos. This year, once the tulips have gone, it’s going to be mostly yellow and orange. Marigolds, Nasturtiums, Pansies and Orange Daisies will be providing the colour, along with beans, tomatoes, courgettes and, of course, rhubarb.  

Approaching Chester by boat is rather lovely; there are 5 wide locks which bring you to the moorings at the east of the town,

followed by an amazing cutting through solid rock with the city walls high above you.

After that comes a three lock staircase where we confused all the gongozlers by passing another boat halfway down. Don’t try this at home.

We moored up at the bottom of the staircase opposite Telford’s Warehouse in a wide basin.

As part of our preparation for the Boat Gathering at Ellesmere Port we wanted to give our tumblehomes their annual coat of paint which meant turning round several times to keep the side we were working on in the shade. Through trial and error – mostly error - we’ve discovered that turning round with one end or the other still attached to the bank is easier, more controllable and, as there are always spectators around when you find yourselves doing these things, neater than any alternative. Of these, it seems the most common is to launch oneself into the middle of the cut with no obvious plan and even less hope of success, then spend half an hour using ever increasing amounts of throttle to no effect whatsoever, whilst putting oneself and all the other craft that miraculously appear from nowhere at the mercy of the inevitable squall that is guaranteed to whip up the minute one casts off.

Chester is fabulous. We really don’t know how we’ve managed to get this far without visiting it before. It’s got a huge cathedral, a racecourse, a riverfront, two-story medieval shopping streets and the city walls go all the way round it.

The Shroppie from Chester to Ellesmere Port starts off pretty enough but gets grimmer closer to the end. Industry closes in as does dereliction and urban decay and the last bit, just before you go under the motorway tunnel is particularly dire. Ironicaly, that makes the entrance into the Boat Museum all the more welcoming. Going under the last bridge takes you back 200 years.

We arrived on the Wednesday night and moored up alongside Lost in the Mist on the water point. Later that night Sesh turned up and moored alongside us, so in the morning there were three of us  waiting to go down the two narrow locks into the bottom basin. Of course by then the wind had picked up so we had fun and games getting all three of us backed into our allocated moorings.

David and Kate came to join us for the weekend

and over the next couple of days lots more boats arrived, both historic working boats, which were put on display in the top basin,

and pleasure boats like ours which were all together in the bottom. We introduced Jenny and Graham on Lost in the Mist to the silliness of bunting and lent them some. Our own bunting was enhanced by the addition of some new fairy lights and an even higher Heath Robinson style retracting-and-leaning-over post so we can leave the bunting up when we go boating and not hit bridges with it.

Jono and Nicole arrived on Sunday just as D&K were leaving; they stayed for lunch and helped to demolish the Easter cake mountain that had built up.

We had a smashing time; both the exhibits and the buildings of the museum are fascinating. The phenomenal amount of dedication and effort that the staff and volunteers have, and continue to put in, is staggering and the wealth of knowledge and experience that is wrapped up in the place is plain to see. Of course there is an awful lot still to do; there are a lot of boats waiting to become the next project, and yet more that are sunk to preserve them and will probably have to wait a very long time.

Hopefully, when time and money are forthcoming they will still be viable.We really enjoyed our stay and were made to feel very welcome; coming back again is a distinct possibility. Maybe next time it’ll be for longer and involve some volunteering on our part.

We’re now back in Chester and will probably get back down the Shroppie, across the Middlewich Branch and back down the T&M fairly quickly. The next big adventure is the Harecastle tunnel and Stoke-on-Trent, then we’re up the Calden which we’ve heard is lovely, so we’re looking forward to that. 

Hall Green to Barbridge Junction. Trent and Mersey Canal, Wardle Canal, Shropshire union Canal

It’s all nodding daffodils, gambolling lambs and bloody stupid suicidal ducklings here on the cut, but more of that later.

France was good; lovely and sunny. Good things are happening in Chatanet. Frankie and Harry’s new dog, Iggy, is gorgeous and settling in to his home.

Paul and Harry have concreted the floors and put doors on the barns to create an enviable workshop and spray booth where, as 2CVtech,   they are building virtually new Citroen 2CVs. 

Dave was rather impressed and couldn’t resist getting stuck in with rubbing down and spannering.

We got invited to an evening at one of their neighbour’s houses, which is a weekly thing where both French and English get together and everybody brings some food and something to drink and tries to improve their language skills. Ann-Marie made a plate of cheesy scones. (The word “Scone” doesn’t sound all that glamorous when you’re offering one to a French person.) She then found herself telling everyone our life story, using mostly body language.  Later, after a few cognacs, Dave made a brave effort at a joke about two tortoises that nobody got, but everyone enjoyed the way he told it.

We had a fabulous week and were made to feel very welcome by the Griffiths Brookes household. It is no surprise that their warm hospitality is the main reason visitors to the gites keep coming back.

We had some very sad news when we returned to the UK. Since we had been moored near their house at Woodlesford last summer, our friends John and Gill had become regular visitors to the boat and we’ve got to know them well. We knew Gill had an ongoing illness, but it was still a shock to hear that while we out of the country she’d sadly passed away. We went to offer our support to John at a celebration of Gill’s life which was held at their local tearoom and craft centre in Methley. It was a beautiful occasion; there were lots of their friends there from all walks of life, all with some fond memory of how Gill had touched their lives. We’ll remember the way she lit up the room, the wonderful hats, the twinkling eyes and the warm smile. It’s impossible to think that such a vital life-force has gone and we’re going to miss her a lot.

We’ve done a heap of boating since the last post. We went from Hall Green stop lock at the bottom of the Macclesfield

to Harding’s Wood Junction, turned northwest on the Trent and Mersey down Heartbreak Hill to Middlewich,

then west on the Middlewich Branch of the Shropshire Union to Barbridge Junction, where we are now. The narrow locks on Heartbreak Hill were doubled to speed up passage of working boats. these days some of the pairs are still both in good repair and usable,

but some have just the one in operation with the other one either derelict or non existent.

Norm and Jude, Harry’s mum and dad, came to see us at Wheelock, it was the first time they’d seen the boat and we loved having them on board. At Middlewich Pam and Brian, more first timers, joined us for lunch and a very short lesson in locking; we took them down King’s Lock, round Middlewich Junction and up Wardle Lock before mooring up.

It’s was a trip of less than 100 yards, but it involved five boats coming from all directions and included the entire length of the Wardle Canal passing Auntie Maurine's Lock Cottage so it was full of canal heritage and history. Both couples left with promises to return; Pam’s daughter lives in Chester so we’ll try and organise something there, and Norm and Jude are keen to meet us at the end of the Calden Canal when we get there.

As well as having visitors to our boat we’ve been visiting ourselves. Arthur, who we met last year on the Ouse, has had his boat, Shambles, moored for the winter in a marina at Anderton. We’d been invited to an open meeting at Anderton Visitor Centre with Richard Perry, the new Chief Executive of the CRT, so we thought it would be nice to go and see Arthur and Eve, who we didn’t meet last year, beforehand. There are a number of these meetings being held across the country, the CRT use their database of where boats are permanently moored and where continuous cruisers are at that time to compile a list of customers who are then invited to attend by email. We had lunch on Shambles then walked over to the marquee where, along with Arthur and Eve and about 30 other people, we were supplied with tea and biscuits and invited to ask any questions we liked of Mr Perry.  We were impressed by how well he and his team seemed to listen to everyone and tried to answer everything honestly and not to dodge any of the questions. Although we didn’t have a particular agenda, a lot of the points raised were relevant to us in one way or another so we found the whole experience useful. It was certainly a world apart from BW’s way of doing things. Anyway it was good to finally meet Eve; we’d thought she was Arthur’s imaginary friend, but it turns out she’s very real and very nice and we had a lovely afternoon aboard one of our favourite boats.

Half way down the 28 Cheshire Locks, at Hassell Green, we saw our first ducklings this year.

Ahhh! 11 little round bundles of fluff following their mum as if they were tied on with string. Well that was the scene when we walked past in the morning; when we came back later with the boat she only had 3 left. There were two penned in the lock entrance but no sign of any more. Ann-Marie did her best to re-unite them but we still found one in the lock with the boat as we went down. It gallantly swam all the way the down one side while Dave struggled to keep it from being squished by 17 tons of Hancock and Lane’s finest, then he had to lean over the back and scoop it out just before it started its return trip up the other side. By that time the lock was empty so Ann-Marie had to lie down and reach over the edge so Dave could reach up and hand it over.

We know it’s only nature’s way of sorting out the stupid from the survivors, and if they all grew up we’d be overrun with ducks, but you can’t help getting involved. It was the same at Middlewich where we used the chimney brush to shoo a hungry looking swan away from another bunch of ducklings. We don’t know if swans eat ducklings; we’ve seen ducks eat mice so it’s a fair bet and, to be honest, we’d rather not find out while leaning out of our side hatch admiring the view.    

   

Our heightened rate of progress across the Cheshire Plains towards the Mersey is so that we’ll be at Ellesmere Port by next Wednesday. We’re booked into the basin for the Easter Boat Gathering and Sea Shanty Festival, but before that we’re off down south to take our place at the London Marathon mile 18 marker on the Isle of Dogs to watch Chloe run past. Whoo-ooh! She’s been practicing hard and we’re very proud and quite convinced that she’ll still be running when she gets to us. Paul and Janice are coming over to watch as well although Chloe doesn't know yet. We're all meeting up at Susan and Crispin's in Surbiton afterwards to celebrate. that should be a good do! We’re stopping at Karen’s for the weekend, so we need to get the boat to somewhere where we can leave it for a couple of days. It shouldn’t be a problem, there’s plenty of mooring here on the Shroppie, we just need to find a place we like the look of. With car access. And a phone signal. And a nearby shop. Not that we’re fussy of course. 

Macclesfield Canal. Three Oaks to Henshall's Bridge

In our usual state of fickleness we have once again changed our minds about what the immediate future holds for us. A small email attachment from the IWA caught our attention, we have sent off for a booking form and now, when we get to the Trent and Mersey at Harding’s Wood junction, instead of heading east we are going to go the other way. At Middlewich we’ll go down the Middlewich Branch, then up the Shroppie through Chester and on to the National Boat Museum at Ellesmere Port for the Easter Boat Gathering and Sea ShantyFestival. A similar sort of whimsical departure from The Plan occurred last year when, in Leeds, a chance conversation resulted in us turning left at Castleford instead of right and going up the Ouse to York and Ripon, where we met a bunch of really lovely people and had a whale of a time. We find that very encouraging and we’re looking forward to the Chester trip immensely. We’ve been to boat festivals before but we’ve never had our own boat booked in as part of one. In anticipation of all the attention we’ll be no doubt attracting the Easter bunting will make a re-appearance and there will be a severe tidying-up of roof. We’ve got just over a month to get there, but as it’s a there-and-back-again trip we can take it easy on the return leg. The fact that the route we’re following is less than half of Alton’s coal run and that Brian and Ann Marie are usually back home in 10 days including stopping for all their customers is neither here nor there; in our world, moving five miles every three days is definitely approaching the “speedy” end of the scale.

Two or three of these short hops brought us from Three Oaks through Congleton and on to Henshalls Bridge (80). Our favourite mooring on this bit has to be in the Biddulph Valley Arm just before the Congleton Embankment.

The warehouses that used to surround this little wharf are long gone leaving a secluded cul-de-sac on the off side with its own bench. We had two glorious days sitting outside while the solar panels soaked up the unexpected March sunshine. As it was only a short distance away we had another hike up The Cloud, which reminded us that, although weather-wise it has been fine for a week or so, and the towpaths are finally starting to dry out, it’s going to take a lot more than that for the water-logged fields to recover. The squelchy sucking noise that inevitably accompanies the extraction of a muddy boot from an even muddier hole is getting, to be frank, rather boring now thank you.

On the way up we came across this line of what described itself as Amphibian Fencing,

and this sign.

Ahhh!

Just after Congleton Aqueduct there are some 48hr moorings at Congleton Wharfe where we left the boat while we went over to Keighley for the weekend for Kate’s birthday.

While we were there the two Davids took Dylan-the-dog up Ilkley Moor, and yes, they both took their hats off while they were up there. The girleys stayed home and had a crafting session, including some Celtic Knotting which we really like the look of and will be practicing later.

For two mornings last week we were working (if you can call it that) for our survey company, counting passengers alighting from busses in Liverpool. It’s easy as long as you don’t mind standing around in a bus station for hours. When Dave was a teenager he did that for free, so this is money for jam as far as he’s concerned. We've got another two days in a week or so, which is nice; if it stays at that rate it will suit us perfectly.

Mum and Dad were up in this neck of the woods for a committee meeting over the weekend so they came for a couple of days on the boat beforehand. The good weather was still holding out so we had a little trip out to Mow Cop and a walk up to the castle.

This is the last high point on the Gritstone Trail before it ends in Kidsgrove. Because it runs parallel to the Mac down the edge of the Cheshire Plains we’ve been able to walk along a fair bit of this long distance footpath in the past few months and we’ve thoroughly enjoyed all of it. The steep inclines can be hard work, but the stunning views make every step worthwhile.

We’ll be leaving Legend at Henshall’s bridge while we go to see Frankie and Harry in their new home in Bordeaux.

In fact this blog entry is being written on the plane, waiting for take-off at Luton Airport which, it appears, can’t be said without doing the accent. There will be photos of what we’re sure will be a brilliant week in French France in the next entry.