Canal Holiday - Day 4

It was Friar Tuck-ing freezing this morning, and even though coffee came my way, I could not bring myself to get out of bed while I could see my own breath.

Eventually, and by that I do mean before 8am, crawling out of bed did happen, and it wasn’t quite as cold as anticipated.  Coffee and hot-cross buns soon sorted us out, and our journey continued.


We arrived at a particular lock, the first that Jennie was doing by herself, and a boat was coming the other way after we were in the lock. The helpful lady that was its crew was a bit put out (silently sour-faced) when Jennie asked, if she was going to help (as she was insisting she would do), could she please open the opposite gate to the one she was leaning against as that would then leave Jennie on the towpath side of the lock.

The really excellent part of the lady’s lock etiquette was her complete failure to inform her boat, who would not have been able to see with the very large bridge in the way, that the lock was occupied.

Supermarket parking for boats!

So, when the gate opened, we started to move out, but the incoming boat was right there, and moving to come in. The helmsman clearly hadn’t had his coffee yet, and stared at us for a while, waiting for us to magically transport ourselves out of the lock. After a long toot he moved out of the way, and we were able to pass and continue. He was awfully apologetic so we smiled and carried on our way.


We stopped at a Sainsbury that had conveniently situated branch on the canal side and, because we didn't have to buy for dinner, managed a supersonic whistle-stop shop.

Pootling onwards, we encountered a lock which was wrapped up in orange netting, with some fellas doing stuff. We were informed by fellas that stuff would take a couple of hours, so we decided that it would be a wonderful time to have lunch.

It turned out that some boater had attempted to steal a ground paddle. Or to put it another way, upon lowering the paddle after it had done its job, he (assuming it was a he because of the sheer strength needed) decided that the paddle hadn’t dropped far enough and forced it further down. The paddle in fact being down as far as it would go, pushed against the stone under it, pushing the entire ground paddle, *and* the stone it was sitting on, up in the air. Some feat if you manage it!

One of the fellas, a simple man, had a rake, and at some point, the business end fell off into the canal, so he spent most of the operation with a magnet on a piece of string, fishing for it.  He did retrieve it eventually, and was very pleased with himself even though he didn't help much with mending of the lock, but while helping to clear away, he then managed to kick the bucket. Into the canal.

We met a boat with two shiny new boaters fresh out of the marina. We met them at one of those awkward bridges on bends. They were closest to the bridge coming the other way, so we slowed and manoeuvred to allow them through.

In response, they did an emergency stop and reversed so that we could go through, in the process inadvertently spinning their boat and hitting the bank with their bow. We progressed through and as they managed to get their back end under control and crashed that up against the bank too, we went neatly around them.

They reversed and made another run at the bridge, but the bow had other ideas, preferring to be attached to the bank (I think the boat was scared and wanted to moor up where it was nice and safe), and we left them reversing for yet another attempt at getting under that bridge.

We followed a goose for a while.  A Canada goose, which thought we were after it. It swam ahead of us and flew off every time we got too close. Four times this happened, so I’m sure it felt very paranoid by the time it found some other Canada geese which it aimed straight for and hid amongst.

When we reached the end of the canal at Stourport, we went for a wander. We admired new-build apartments with premium boat berths and no doubt premium prices. We found a carnival and debated the pros and cons of sampling a ride - the cons won.

We did, however, agree that sampling the wares of an ice cream hut was a mandatory requirement and acquired large 99 ice creams, complete with flakes.

We started on our return journey, and stopped for the night in Wolverley. Trying to get a mobile signal to check in with Mum proved somewhat difficult though. But eventually Dad managed it, just in time for dinner.

Which was divine, with pepper mash and beer-batter fish, although the vegetables had been steamed well and truly into the next life. Another night, tired out from lots of fresh air and food, we had hot choccy and went to sleep.