Arcadia2

Arcadia's Summer Cruise 2007

I'm writing this from the cockpit wondering whether we're going to have the fire and brimstone that our weather station is forecasting. We'd never seen the little black cloud and animated lightning icons appear before so should we be worried? It has an accuracy rate of about 75% so I'm not betting against it. It will only add to the fun and games we have already had - oh yes, we're back to our best, with tales aplenty. No quiet holiday this!

It all started last Friday when we sailed into the top lock at Hurleston, passing a lady and gent just finishing off at the water point. Now, I suppose in retrospect we could have waved them forward into the lock first, but then again, they hadn't set it, or opened the gates or claimed it as 'theirs' in any demonstrative fashion...and yet we could feel the daggers knifing into our backs....and the way he 'helped' us down the flight...you know the sort, when you feel physically discomforted by the speed with which they do everything. But we tried to be nice and thankfully they went the other way at the junction. And compared to today, I suppose the guy did actually help, whereas the rather odd chap on the boat behind us up the Marple flight, well, he wasn't going to do anything to help speed us on his way. The lady of the party, on the other hand, was a sweetie, pitching in when she could...I rather got the feeling she was somewhat embarrassed by her colleague's conduct. I mean, who would watch a woman (me) leave the lock, then wrestle with stopping the boat to then go back and shut a heavyish old gate and not lift a finger - at any point. Strange.

Anyway, back to the beginning. We made good progress that first day and ended up just past Middlewich, conveniently located next to a big empty field. Oh no, I hear you cry - why are you always tempted by big empty fields? Thankfully, this one was surrounded by water on three sides and all the dogs had a huge mad gadabout on Saturday morning - including an impromptu 'Red Arrows' display as Susie bisected Ranger and Arthur perfectly as they all ran at speed. Even Monty was let off to have a mini-run and he didn't go AWOL - this time... I have to say that the previous day the dogs had acquired a bit of a fan club. We encountered a couple of boats full of kids from deprived backgrounds who just fell in love with them all. The kids themselves were fantastic - really enthusiastic and taking instruction properly. Shame about what the party leaders had to say, that some private boat owners were extremely sniffy and stand-offish with them. Isn't that pathetic? Here are kids learning respect for the canal, for other canal users, enjoying a completely healthy pastime and some people can't even give them the time of day?

The second day took us to just shy of Preston Brook and Sunday saw us moored up past Lymm. Pretty incident free days except for Andy dropping Monty's lead and Monty legging it up the towpath. However he was soon recaptured much to his chagrin. The Bank Holiday saw us venture into Manchester - a very nice run into town, clean with friendly natives. By lunchtime we'd nipped down Coal Wharf and moored at the end, commiserated with a boater whose wife had just stepped off the boat and broken her ankle, and headed for the nearest Starbucks and supermarket. We also nipped out that evening for a super Chinese at the Yang Sing, where the waitress looked at us oddly as we ordered quite a few dishes (in fact, she made me feel embarrassed that I was ordering so much so I curtailed my list - it's just that we like a bit of

everything, so order quite a range!) We explained that we were very hungry (we were) and I think we gave it a pretty valiant effort. Before bedtime I also managed to bag us a partner for the Rochdale Nine. They said 'yes' and only then told me that they didn't know what they were doing - and they were right! However, after nine locks of Sarah and Andy drilling, I think they were very much better equipped for the travails to come! These people didn't even have a map book, so we lent them one of ours...and what were they doing the Cheshire Ring for? Why didn't the hire base suggest something easier? After the Ancoats three, we didn't actually see them again so we have visions of them being stuck on the Ashton somewhere...As for Manchester, well, it's a fairly hard road, that's for sure. Missing paddles and a relentless climb out of the city does take it out of a crew of two...but having said that, the locks were well-tempered, the natives harmless (we saw

more police than teenagers) and you definitely feel a sense of achievement when you're done. And I saw less crud in the cut than in Birmingham, much less in fact. People had banged on about the Rochdale locks being the hardest in the country but I don't see it myself - it was actually a pretty fascinating run through the middle of a city, quite similar to Farmer's Bridge in its secret, subterranean ways.

After the hard work of Marple this morning, we were looking forward to a nice gentle cruise down the Macc. But first a water top up and refuse drop at the junction. I took the opportunity to take the dogs for a walk and just as I was finishing loading them into the front, I noticed another greyhound running across the lot into the adjacent road. Funny, it looked just like Monty...which was because it was Monty. And Monty went on a ten minute exploration of uptown Marple, with passers by calling to me 'he went that way'! I even had two decorators up a ladder point me in the right direction. If I'd been fitter and less worried about M getting hit by a car, I would have laughed at the scene's comedic value. Eventually I got him cornered in a garden - I just followed the sound of other dogs' barking - and rescued him. Of course, there followed a strong exchange of views between Andy and me as to who had left the back door open - this is a 'strictly shut at all time' door. Well, we won't do that again, we said. And what happens? Three hours later we moor up just outside Bollington and guess

who's legging it out of the back of the boat, despite our stern being a metre out into the cut because of the mud? Yep, it's that dog about

town with nine lives. This time, however, a smart canter down the towpath brought him face to face with a strange human and a strange dog and they successfully shoo-ed him back to me.

So here we are, thinking about Bosley tomorrow and wondering why we decided to do such a mad schedule in the first place. We're doing 7-10 hour days when we're more accustomed to 3-5. My feet hurt, we're going to bed earlier and earlier and I'm getting more and more angry with the insufferable beep of the alarm clock. But having said that, the early morning is the very best part of the day weather-wise and lack of people wise and always reminds me why I got into this lark in the first place.

More to follow...

Part One

Yesterday our plans changed yet again - I think this was change number four! We are now moored at bridge 31 on the Leicester Section of the Grand Union, half way between the Middle of Nowhere and Somewhere or Other. This is the land that time forgot - hardly any boat traffic, no villages, just a couple of horses across the water chomping away merrily - wonderful stuff, this boating lark. Anyway, this trip all started last Saturday - and in the café at Fradley we had our first destination change. A work appointment for Andy was postponed by at least a week,so we suddenly moved from working on board mode to holidaying mode, and with the boat already pointing south, we forsook the original target of Froghall on the Caldon for Stoke Bruerne.

By the time we met you at Braunston, we had decided against an out and back and opted for a ring instead, diverting down to SB and then back up the Leicester Arm/Soar/T&M back to Streethay. By the time we got to Braunston locks, I had calculated that we would never fit the SB diversion in if we wanted to be back by Tuesday (but then again, I am always the eternal optimist when it comes to route planning) so we turned left at Norton Junction, leaving SB for another time. Then last night we heard that Andy's appointment was postponed permanently allowing us a more leisurely pace to get back, although, strictly speaking, we should be working. Now, as you'll know, I was becoming a touch concerned that our trips were becoming a mite dull with little to report. But things looked up in the first few days of this latest sortie and of course, we had the dogs to thank again, Monty in particular. For it was he who, at the third bridge hole on the trip, decided to jump off and who, once led back on by yours truly, decided he fancied the other side more and promptly disembarked again to run off up the towpath. It was only because he has a propensity for long wees that I was able to run and catch him. A victory on points to me. Then there was the occasion on the N Oxford when we were all settled down inside with the cratch cover down - a nice remote mooring by bridge 26. Suddenly something gets the dogs' attention and they are up and out, making light work of the cratch zips. I endeavoured to rugby tackle Monty as he leapt off (the other three by comparison are reasonably biddable and I worry about them less so it's always a 'Stop Monty' affair) but all I managed to do was fall out of the well-deck onto the towpath clutching thin air. The troops were duly rounded up about five minutes later having watered a local field.The last incident was all my own making but it's because I do like to give the dogs a run from time to time. Moored just before bridge 68, I managed to sneak access to an empty field on the off-side at about 10pm. I let them go and that was it really. The last I saw of them was a black streak (Susie) travelling at about 40mph three fields away. The fields were obviously alive with rabbits and I was actually kicking myself for being so brainless - greys need to be protected from themselves because they have no ability to regulate their speed. I was just wondering how I was going to tell Andy that we were now a no dog family when they all appeared through a gap in the hedge panting for Britain. Needless to say, they have been on the lead ever since - although, funny this, they don't seem to have much energy left. I wonder why? One unfortunate footnote - pardon the pun. Monty's exertions have given him a swollen paw - if it shows no sign of improvement,we will try and get to a vet in Market Harborough, another destination we've added in for fun.

Obviously the highlight of the trip was meeting you both by boat at last - I'm not offended by the fact that you didn't recognise me without the dogs. Maybe it was the pirate disguise that threw you? The coffee, banana loaf and conversation were all delightful as ever and it was with great reluctance we left you as it would have been lovely to have just sat out there with you for the rest of the day. The bummer was that a) we found out later that we could have relaxed the schedule and b) the Braunston locks had a stoppage in the pm and we were held up for an hour anyway. Double bummer - the ham rolls would have come out if we'd stayed. Anyway, suffice to say that it was a marvellous interlude as they always are. The delay at Braunston bottom did allow me to go and have a rootle round the chandlery and get chatting with Sue of Wharf House. What a lovely lady - if we had another boat built, I'd give them serious consideration. She gave me a look around one of the boats under construction and it was really smashing. They deserve continued success with such a friendly, enthusiastic approach. We went up the locks with a great couple called Gerald and Joan and we have been leapfrogging them ever since. They are one of these couples who can give the most brilliant answer to that 'how long are you out for?' question 'Oh, well, we need to be home some time in September' - how I wish we could extend our stay for that long. We're really getting into it now and the dogs are very relaxed about the boat, although it's very warm for them obviously. We've got a delicious breeze this evening, which makes a change. No probs with either Braunston tunnel (we had a working headlight this time which took all the drama out of the situation) and met no-one, so we absolutely hammered through it. Then it was Watford locks this morning,and the delightful lockie there told me he had just won the regional Lock and Bridge competition. He was busily sprucing up the place even more in time for the national judging in a fortnight. Andy attempted to get us struck off the proper boaters' roll by opening the paddles in the wrong order until I quickly reminded him that it was red before white and you'll be alright (as opposed to white before red, and you'll be dead - because I'll have killed you for being a muppet).

Part Two

We got back safely to the house to find that the builders had done everything we asked for, so we didn't have to suffer any Fawlty Towers moments. In one sense, we're pleased to be home but in another we're not. Three weeks away meant that we had really got into the old boating lark - besides which,there was invariably a breeze on the cut which there definitely isn't here!

We were in deepest, darkest Northants at the end of Part One and our remaining time afloat could perhaps be best described as a game of two halves...or actually, to be more precise, a game of three thirds. First third - a wonderful leisurely cruise to Market Harborough where the only other boats we met were at Foxton. In fact, from Friday night to Sunday morning, we were the only boat on the MH visitor moorings, which are extremely nice. As is the town, where I jumped at the chance for a decent cup of coffee and to get a new tag engraved for Monty (him having lost his collar on his wild night out). We also had a very nice dinner at the Italian on Union Wharf, where some tasty food was washed down with a bit of house white causing a rather early exit to bed. The MH arm did make me laugh in places - at times it was like The Land that Time Forgot and I half expected Doug McClure and Raquel Welch to appear fending off a couple of pterodactyls.

The second third marked the Kilby Bridge to Willington stage, a journey over three days spent in the delightful company of Jill and Gordon McKenzie. We'd moored in front of them at KB (anglers having taken the only other mooring - gggrrr) and got to chatting as you do. As they hadn't been through Leicester before and as I knew it would be easier to go through together, we teamed up and didn't actually leave one another's company till Willington. Well, as soon as they had the Pimms out at midday, we knew that this was going to be a fun ride and so it proved - we had a really super trip down the Soar and J&G were lovely. Considering both couples normally eschewed company, it was funny how well it all worked out and we developed a brilliantly swift and efficient locking routine. When we set sail without them on the Thursday, it seemed a bit lonely all of a sudden. However, we did mark our last night together with a Chinese takeaway - as Willington visitor moorings were stacked out (worse than Ikea, let me tell you), we cruised on past out into the country, eventually getting so peed off that we just rammed her into the side and got the stakes out. As mooring can be tricky in those parts, it's worth noting that you can get in around about the accommodation bridge - that's the bridge servicing the quarry, not a farm bridge as J&G surmised. Once moored up, I jumped on the bike and went to the Sun Hall takeaway (v. busy) and ordered so much that I got it in a box. In fact, I actually got two boxes but was so mortified that I'd been greedy enough to get a box as opposed to a bag, that I thought the second box was someone else's - and promptly left it on the counter. Light only dawned when I got back to the boat and unpacked my rucksack, opened the dishes and clocked a missing sweet and sour.

For the record, we broke the trip from KB at Thurmaston (nice water park), Zouch lock (nice dog walks) and then finally at Willington. No problems in Leicester, other than a bit of crud in the water as we went north of the Mile Straight. We had kids off bridges and in locks but we just spoke to them nicely and they were fine. We hardly saw any traffic and it was a real treat to be on a navigation where a) you could get moored up even at 7pm and b) you didn't have an incessant train of narrowboat Porsches going past. Travelling too quick and cutting your revs as you come abreast just doesn't hack it. I was thanked on a couple of occasions for going past slowly - what a sign of the times. Funnily enough, the night of the stakes at Willington got me thinking too - when I was a kid on family boating hols, sticking it into the side, walloping in the stakes (how many mallets did my dad lose? I lost count..) and getting the plank out was pretty much de rigeur. I think we've become a bit cissified what with all this piling....

The final third was, in some respects, the least enjoyable. We'd said goodbye to J&G and come back onto a T&M that was doing a fair impression of the M25. Moorings were stacked out early in the day and while everyone was very nice, there was a sharp contrast to the very relaxed cruising that we'd had a few days earlier. I was discussing with Andy why the Leicester Arm is not more popular because, I can tell you, when the sun shines, I reckon it ranks up there with the best of them. We both concluded that people were actually put off, rather than drawn by, the lack of communities and pubs enroute. Could be right, could be wrong but either way, we loved it - the remoter the better! (Well, as long as your poo tank isn't full...)

So all in all, a super trip. Considering that we were meant to go to Froghall, then, after a change of heart, Stoke Bruerne and back, it was an unexpected cruise but one that we would have no hesitation in repeating. The weather was sometimes too hot, particularly when the breeze dropped, and our uncharacteristically long days told us we were definitely getting old, but a rather heavenly fortnight all told. Our plan is to go to Llangollen in October....which on current form means we'll probably go to Lechlade.

New Year update ... 2007

I'm overdue with one of my short missives but well...it's been a busy time for us. First of all, the very big news. The dog stork

brought us a little something in the New Year. I know, I know, five hounds...we must be mad. We've had to change the car to accommodate them all and we'd forgotten what the early days were like with any new gang member so it's all been a bit stressful and tiring. But Ranger is very confident and very cute - see above! No-one wanted him - don't know why - so what could we do? Thankfully, he's stopped whizzing up every plant and vertical surface and is learning that sticking his head in the dishwasher/washing machine/orifices various is not that sensible - you'll love him!

Crimble and New Year passed off peacefully. We had a surprise invite to Christmas Day lunch from friends which was lovely - Andy got a bit merry though and I had fears for his safety on the narrow pontoons at the marina. We then headed off for France on New Year's Eve - we saw in 2007 in the ultra glam setting of Maidstone services drinking a welcome cup of 'I hope this keeps me awake for 10 hours' Costa coffee. We lasted about three more and then pulled off for a kip. When we took the dogs out for their first wee on French soil they all freaked out and tried to make a run for it. Obviously they weren't that impressed. However, they did love Mum's garden, running around like mad things and leaving her copious gifts in the grass. I did my best to clear up but sometimes you just have to accept you're beaten. I was very pleased with myself for explaining to a villager one afternoon all about the fate of greyhounds in the UK. Unfortunately, when I reflect on what I actually said, I think they now think that I murder 10,000 dogs a year. Note to self - learn to conjugate your verbs. As ever with us, no trip can be uneventful and this time we surpassed ourselves on the return journey. At Limoges, with about 600

miles still to go, the passenger door lock on the motorhome fouls itself and we can't shut the ruddy door. Cue improvisation with bungee clips and dog leads and muggins here hanging onto the door handle for dear life. Of course, being on the right hand side of the road on a motorway, we had all the cars and lorries thundering past on my side, forcing the door open all the time. We couldn't drive faster than 60mph otherwise the same thing happened, so as you can imagine, it was a barrel of laughs coming back. We couldn't stop because our schedule was so tight - if we missed our train back, there was a risk that we would go over the 48 hour limit that they impose for your dogs' tick/worm treatment (with the old pet passport scheme, you need to get back into the UK within 48 hours of the dogs being treated).

So we just chugged on and with my arms about to drop off, we eventually reached the Chunnel only to think we'd taken a wrong turn and ended up in downtown Warsaw. I've never seen so many Polish coaches! Don't get me wrong, I've no issue with controlled immigration but I'm worried about Poland - is there anybody left there?

Anyway, the other big news is that Andy and I have finally, finally worked out the big game plan. Originally, this had been to retire onto a narrowboat. Know anyone who's done that by the way? However, I had always sensed that Andy was not as taken with this idea as I was and over the festive period I finally gave him some truth serum so he could tell me honestly what bugged him about the concept. Seems like it's not so much the people - you get the same annoying types in every walk of life - but the physical space, or lack of it. That is a big concern apparently. So we wandered off down a tangent of buying a house in France - we had been greatly taken by our trip - but borrowing regs are so tight over there that it was a bit of a non-starter. And then, whoosh, the Damascene revelation. How to have space and live on the water and go to France! Allow us to introduce the great Dutch Barge project. We'll probably be in hock forever but we don't care - we've already fallen in love with every barge on the Internet and are already dreaming of drinks on the rear deck on some sunny French canal somewhere. Old friends will of course be invited so pack your beret and stripy top and head on over! Seriously, we are starting our research now even though we won't look to buy for another five years or so. We'd live on it and continue working for a while (er, well, for as long as it takes to pay for it) then we'd take off to the Continent having cruised most of the wide beam system in the UK during the holidays. But we do need to know what we are getting into and most importantly, whether we could hack the handling of something with a wheel (sacrilege!) but there are plenty of people out there with the answers and experience, so it should be jolly good fun trying to find out if this is something for us. I suspect it will be but it is a whole new world. So there you are - new dog, new boat (eventually), new future! Good job that some things remain constant, like boating friends.