Canal Holiday - Day 1

Our trip to Stafford started off very well. Everything came together nicely, with me setting off to meet Dad at the station exactly on time. The M25 threatened to cause us major delays, but in the end, favoured us with a total loss of no more than 15 minutes, which is rather good for that particular road.

When we got to Birmingham, Dad suggested that we take a slightly different combination of motorways than the Satnav wanted to, and although the Satnav got a bit grumpy about it, Dad’s M5 alternative did seem like a better route - perhaps slightly longer mileage, but not as busy or as full of variable speed limits as the M42. A bit of a shame about the M5 roadworks that delayed us.

From the M6 Satnav wanted to come off at Junction 12, but Dad suggested Junction 13. A fabulous idea as slightly longer mileage, but meant avoiding town centers. Satnav happily agreed with that as a good second choice. A bit of a shame about the road closure off J13 that delayed us.

In any event, we arrived at the marina in good time according to our schedule to find Jennie waiting for us and enjoying the sun. Dad introduced us to lots of people, and a nice man gave us a trolley to haul our luggage in.

We said hello to Hawksmoor and, after unpacking food, we cast off, coasting regally out of our berth.

But only about half way because there was a traffic jam.

Once the jam was cleared we continued to regally coast out of our berth and towards the marina exit. It’s a sharp left hand turn to the exit, and Hawksmoor is a long (58ft) boat, weighing in at 16 tonnes, but even considering that, she wasn’t really turning left so much as vaguely wandering left.

But eventually we managed it and sailed regally out of the marina.

It all kind of had to be regally, because we weren’t going very fast. And when your normal top speed is 4mph, that’s significantly slow.

We pootled through the stunningly beautiful Tixall Wide, said hello to the ducks and geese and coots and moorhens, and most especially the herons.

Our first lock came upon us and Jennie learned how to go uphill in a narrow boat.

While in the lock, Dad looked at the propeller and retrieved a very large thick plastic yellow bag from around it. With the bag no longer hindering us, we left the lock faster than a speeding snail.

The sun had set and it was going dark when we moored up opposite a pretty but sprawling pub/hotel, the Moat House. As anyone who has been on a cruise ship knows, first night etiquette is almost always casual. So, all of us being rather tired, we decided to emulate that and didn’t bother changing clothes, or having a shower, preferring to head straight for food and alcohol as soon as possible.

We crossed a bridge to get on to the Moat House side of the canal, but discovered that there was a house between us and it, which was a little bemusing. Having found our way around the house, we rediscovered the Moat House, except there was now a pond in the way. Walking along a bit further, we spotted another pond which seemed to also be in the way, until it became obvious that there was a walkway between the two, providing access over what turned out to be an actual moat.

Upon entering we were met by a very lovely Maitre D’ called Tom who organized a table for us after sending us to the bar for drinks. As soon as we were served, he came to get us, and led us through a small maze to the ‘conservatory’.

It was a bit posh.

We took a seat and decided that we didn't look too scruffy when sat down.

The food was absolutely divine. Whoever would have thought that a poached egg yolk on top of a salmon risotto would make the whole thing so yummy? The modest jug of water which, due to tiredness, I failed to specify should be tap, came in at near on £4 so one can guess the kind of costs they charged. But it was very beautiful food.

Happily full, with the soft glow of a small amount of wine and beer, we went back to the boat, which was in fact only a three minute walk.

We played cards over hot chocolate, but completely shattered, we turned in.

Or would have turned in, except that trying to figure out how the sofa-bed, which Jennie was sleeping in, worked. Eventually, after trying to translate instructions and pushing this way and that in a very small space, it gave up, we won, and it turned into a bed.

And so we turned in, switching the lights off.

Or would have done except that the carbon monoxide alarm decided to inform us that it needed new batteries.


After that we really did turn in.