The
BW chap overseeing
the permanent repair, could
taken the role of a straw-chewing,
carbine-toting, mirror-shaded
guard in a big hat standing
over a sweating chain gang,
leaning, as he was, casually
over the bridge parapet making
sure that no-one slacked in
the mud below. A perfectly decent
fellow really and he informed
me with steely confidence that
we would get the Canal
Cavalcade by Saturday
afternoon, eyeing hard the labouring
men below in the black sludge.
So after snapping a few pics
to show back in Uxbridge I rode
back passing on the info to
those on a similar quest for
knowledge.
Dave got the boat’s
mobile phone powered up and
bought credit to ring round
the intention to go onto the
rally on Saturday and the rest
of the day was spent tarting
up the girl’s make-up
followed by one of Dave’s
cupboard stews and an early
night. (*see recipe
suggestion at the end).
Oft Again
We
woke early to another fine day
and while Dave was down at the
stoppage to get the latest news
I busied myself with cooking
a full English. Dave arrived
back panting, "They’ll
be open in an hour." "A
bit early for a beer isn’t
it?" I replied archly.
Breakfast was followed by a
good clean out of the butty
and buffing of the brasses while
we waited for Andy Belton
to join us. We left at
10.30 with Dave steering
the motor, Andy working
on his new grand staircase in
Brighton’s hold
while I hung on to the butty’s
elum. Singling out at the next
lock we then passed through
the bridge hole where the breach
was situated and commendably
for Land & Water
and BW, no obvious
sign of the frantic activity
of the previous days. We made
steady progress down to London
seeing little traffic again
which this I think was due to
BW’s estimated
stoppage end date on the Web
and the phone that had put everyone
off the idea of boating near
this section.
Brief Encounter
After an almost textbook port
turn through the bridge hole
at Bull’s Bridge
the conurbation of London
became more evident, but it
was interesting in the variety
of built and natural environments
we travelled through.
On trying to moor for desperately
needed water but confounded
by those blessed mugs wiv
tha’ maggots I called
to a cyclist to kindly assist
in pulling me in.
This he did with great alacrity
and introduce himself as Richard
Scarfe of the 'Friends
of Raymond,’ just
on his way back from the Canal
Cavalcade! While helping
me fill the cans and bottles
he told me that we were needed
at Paddington
as there were few working boats
on display. He also mentioned
that he had filmed Brighton
back in the 70’s when
she did the gravel runs for
Three Fellows so I
made him promise to dig out
the Super8 reel so it could
be transferred on to DVD for
members to view for future AGMs.
As the city centre approached
the landscape became more dynamic,
especially crossing the viaduct
over the Circular Road
with its hoards of
stinky dinky traffic and the
encouraging sight of a new wharf
for the transhipment of recycled
waste along the canal.
The
Carnival is Over (for us!)
On reaching Little
Venice we were made
to feel like returning heroes
by the many smiles and greetings
from those on boats and the
bank. On entering the basin
we were confronted by a seeming
wall of brightly decorated boats
surrounded by a thick heaving
crust of humanity and multifarious
stalls making our two girls
dowdy but honest in comparison.
The PA system announced our
arrival in glowing term as Dave
deftly piloted us through the
melee with Andy on
the bank guiding him to the
allocated mooring for Brighton
where he dropped the tow,
and waited while we moored up.
I then joined him to head up
the Paddington Basin
to wind about and return to
Nuneaton’s mooring
space. Dave’s
reversing into the end-on space
was like threading a needle
wearing boxing gloves enhanced
with a host of eyes watching
every move, waiting for a entertaining
mistake. They must have been
quite disappointed in this respect
as Dave executed a
perfect manoeuvre and we blithely
tied up and stopped the engine.
The smell of delicious food
wafted from the stalls stirring
our appetites but Brighton
needed a tidying and leaflets
required folding so when we
emerged half an hour later I
was dismayed to find the stalls
bare and all the visitors gone!
Swallowing our disappointment,
we had a quick drink with Andy
and then Dave and I
headed for the tube with all
our gear only to be crammed
into a carriage, filled beyond
capacity until we changed trains.
With our intended Underground
route closed for maintenance
we eventually arrived in sleepy
Croxley several
hours later. Staving but only
a pizza place on offer we decided
to head up the M1
before assuaging our appetite
so we walked down the steep
Mill Lane to the canal
and the car park.
Purgatory
It was quite dark here
– the car, was just as
we had left it but when Dave
turned the key - nothing happened!
The vehicle was totally devoid
of electrical power and so after
many phone calls exploring all
the options until we ran out
of credit, long walks to a garage,
we ended back at the car with
a pizza which lived up to our
earlier doubts. Too knackered
to do any more we got out the
sleeping bags and fell into
a fitful sleep until the rain
of a grim dawn woke us and Dave
groaned, "Oh Christ!
It wasn’t a dream!"
Back at up the top of Mill
Lane in the rain, from
a public phone box via Directory
Enquires we got hold of
a local car breakdown firm who
were there in 30 minutes. He
immediately sussed out the problem
as being an obvious flat battery
due to side lights being left
on for three days and with jump
leads had the engine roaring
in seconds. Fifty notes lighter,
(arrrgh!) we arrived
back home feeling like death
warmed up but a hot bath and
coffee soon sorted that out.
As I lay there soaking the aches
away it occurred to me that
the one major difference to
previous trips was that at least
it hadn’t rained so I
can’t complain really….
Roger
t’ Bodger
*Boating
recipe for any season:
Dilettante Dave’s
Cupboard Stew.
Peruse the contents of the cupboard
in butty.
Make democratic decision over
what’s on offer and what
combination it could go in.
Open tins and place contents
in large enough saucepan (don’t
look too hard at your combination
as it is usually unappetising
at this and at all stages).
Stir in a cup of decent wine
and leave bottle uncorked, within
reach.
Heat through gently and stir
frequently between sips of wine
taking care not to burn anything.
(for the incurable epicure it
is possible to heat it though
quickly with the resulting black
bits enhancing the flavour and
texture)
Serve and chew, making appreciative
noises and make unconvincing
statements like:- "This
would cost you at least £13
pounds in that pub" with
"And it probably tastes
better too" or
"Do you like the landlord
that much you want to give him
your money?’"with
"Think of all the money
we are saving for beer!"*
Best served with the second
bottle of wine.
Many happy returns.
*All
these options are not obligatory!
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