Summer Time and the Livin' is Easy..

"Since there is nothing so well worth having as friends, never lose a chance to make them." ~Francesco Guicciardini 

   Since we left Bulbourne after seeing Mikron Theatre three weeks ago we have upped our cruising pace, similar to old times before Les fell ill. It feels so good to be on the move once more!

Our lovely Ozlem

Grandsons Teo and Batu

   We really enjoyed the trip down the Aylesbury arm we were quite pleased with our stay in the Aylesbury Canal Society's beautiful new marina facilities. They are conveniently located two locks outside the town center, near a Tesco, an NHS surgery, good bus stops, and other amenities. It was easy to catch the two buses required to visit our lovely daughter in law Ozlem in Thame and enjoy family time with Les' grandsons Teo and Batu. We've been trying for nearly six months to get there for a visit but the buses out of Aylesbury stop early in the evening, making it difficult to get back to the boat from anywhere else. 

   We stayed on a bit longer than we planned in the ACS marina as I put my S-I joint (Sacro-Iliac--commonly thought of as one's hip) out and needed chiropractic care. I've seen four different chiropractors on our journeys along the canals but  the first one ever is my favorite. His name is Jeremy English (DC MSTAT) and he is truly wonderful. Jeremy has a clinics in Watford, Hayes, and will also see some clients in Berkhamstead. He understands living aboard a narrow boat, and he is thorough and kind. He was willing to fit me in at his home in Berko and I was soon right as rain. Jeremy emailed me a week later to ask how I was feeling too. Now that is a healing professional who cares about his patients. 

The Aylesbury Arm

   After chiropractic care last Saturday at 4 p.m. we said goodbye to the friendly folks in the ACS marina and cruised back up toward Marsworth.

   This arm is a different world from the Grand Union in general. Sixteen locks over six miles drop boaters down from the fields lapping the base of the Chiltern Hills through the vale of Aylesbury--a world of flat land bordered by grasses and reeds taller than most men. In a boat the view is reduced to a wall of slowly passing reeds below a dazzling blue sky. This arm is shallow so one must reduce speed and cruise slower than usual. Doing so also means one is privy to the most amazing wildlife. 

   Les was astonished to see a ten inch Pike grab a smaller fish in its jaws and swim off into the darker shallows of the reeds for dinner. Tiny fish fry swarmed in the thousands; four inch Perch visited the surface, their red tipped fins giving them away. Large blue, green, and red dragonflies continually buzzed the boat, providing an escort along the canal. 

   Damselflies gathered in mobs to mate amongst the grasses, and Moor Hens walked across the yellow flowered Lilly pads with their clown sized feet, as we traveled by. 

   Dozens upon dozens of Purple Martins swooped and dived joyously all around us, feasting on early evening insects hovering above the water. By 8:30 we were moored up at one of our favorite spots just above lock ten. We enjoyed bowls of homemade minestrone soup on the veranda (I've nicknamed the bow the veranda, and the wardrobe, back steps and stern are the bottom-of-the-garden) as the sun began to set and the spinning world slowed down.

Bothered by swarms of  midges? Swing the mooring line above your head like a lasso! Don't forget to yell "Yeeeha!"

   Six pairs of nesting Red Kites wheeled across the fields, settling down for the night, their eery high pitched calls sounding like a soprano cat meee--iiiaoow, repeated three times in every call, echoing on the cool evening breeze. Across from NB Valerie the reeds were shaking and rustling. Suddenly two small Reed

Reed Warbler hunting dinner

Warblers appeared flying in and out of the reeds, perching on the low tips of grass only to throw themselves in the air after insects while doing the most amazing maneuvers--sometimes upside down in flight! they make tiny cups of woven grasses attached to the reeds as nests.      Finally dusk faded to night, the growing moon glowed in the sky and we were off to the land of Winken, Blinken and Nod.

 Tiny Plums

   Sunday morning was muggy and partly sunny with low dark clouds threatening in between which shafts of golden sunlight played on the water.  Thunder rumbled in the distance; still it was eighty degrees and hot! 

Cherry plums with Nectarines for scale.

   Before long we were rising higher again, back up the Ayelsbury arm with the Chiltern hills spread out before us, fields glowing gold and green. Plum trees hung over the towpath, dressed in green fruit awaiting the sun's kiss. Finally we reached the staircase locks at the top bring us back to Marsworth.

   As Les filled the lock I looked up to see a large tree bowing over the towpath waving round, green leaves over my head. I looked again and the the branches were studded with small, fat red fruit! I jumped off the boat as it rose even with the towpath and sampled a bite: cherry plums! Yummmm! I picked a colander full and took the tiller as we cruised out of the top lock, around a wide beam moored on the off side, and I spun NB Valerie a three quarter turn toward the water point. A boat was just leaving, so I slowed, brought the bow in toward the side and as the other boat left I eased NB Val's stern alongside the towpath.

   "Nice steering," called the man on the other boat.

A boater fishing near our mooring at Little Seabrook lock.

   After taking on water we headed North. We had a date on Thursday with a new cooker! Before that though Les had to catch a bus to Luton to our daughter in law Jo's to pick up his new smart phone. We moored up above Little Seabrook locks which is another quiet favorite of ours. I worked grading course activities, did a spot of boat cleaning, washed a load of clothes, and baked a carrot cake in my Barbie sized camper oven. Isn't it amazing how much can be done when a man is not under one's...well you women know what I mean!

Who Da' Boss

   Monday we set off again, just as a hire boat came around the curve out of the lock behind us. We were going to ask to go into the next lock with them; we hadn't seen the second boat behind them, so I hovered near the towpath as Les took off with the windlass to offer a helping hand at the next lock. I followed the flotilla at a respectful distance, and hovered mid canal for nearly twenty minutes as a lot of faffing about ensued. Finally the two boats went down the lock, Les refilled it and in I went.

   The very lovely, beautifully shiny, glowingly painted private boat with masses of perfect fresh flowers spilling rambunctiously out of pots along the entire length of the otherwise spotlessly clean roof was crewed by couple who proudly boasted they too were live aboard boaters--for two years--in a nearby marina. They took their boat out for short cruises to Tesco in Leighton Buzzard, or up to the Marsworth Reservoirs every now and then.

   Slow as molasses in January, it was clear they had little clue what they were doing. Every time the husband brought the boat into or out of a lock, the wife, with windlass at the gates cried out, "Clear???" and the husband shouted back, "CLEAR!!!" Only then did she close the gates. Paddles were forgotten and left wound up on the way out; her hubby got out of the boat to stand uselessly with rope in one hand and windlass in the other, only to realize the lock was going down and he had to climb gingerly down the lock ladder to access their floating home. One would have thought that living aboard for two years would have afforded more practice at dealing with moving a boat through a lock than was apparent to us. We followed behind them, slowly poaching in the relentless summer heat as they crawled along the canal at a snail's pace for three locks which felt like eight.

   The hire boat finally broke free and was gone from site. Eventually we ended up sharing a lock with them during which the husband spoke not one word to me but reached out continually to stroke his very clean and neatly gathered midline--almost like an obsessive compulsive strokes his next fresh bar of soap. I suspect the very fact the tiller of our boat was staffed by a competent woman boater bruised his tender male ego.

   At every lock Les always went up to help with the gates and he had a chance to chat with a woman who was traveling down to the Kennet & Avon canal along with her husband.

   Les asked, "Where are you headed from here?" (Here being Church lock.)

   "We are going down to the K & A. Once there we will put the boat in a marina through the summer school holidays."

   "Why in a marina?"

   "Well, the canal just gets too crowded and we don't want to wait in long queues for the locks." 

   "Why not just change your cruising times? You could start earlier in the morning and be moored up by noon, or wait until late afternoon--say 3:30--and cruise until  8 P.M. There's still plenty of light in the summer to cruise late. Cruise from Tuesday-Thursday and sit tight over the crowded weekends. It just seems a shame to waste the summer sitting in a marina when you could be enjoying the canal." At this the woman shrugged unhappily. 

   "I have to do what I am told, " she replied. 

   Really??!!! It's a good thing I am not married to her husband. The first thing I would do is buy several T-shirts with slogans such as "I never do what I am told," and "You are NOT the boss of me." Then I would cruise off a leave him in one of the local pubs to find his way--if he could--back to our boat moored at least fifteen miles away. All this just goes to show it takes all kinds and there are all kinds out there.

  We stopped in Leighton Buzzard for groceries and quickly moved on out of town to a quiet spot for the night.

Ya' Got to Have Friends

   We were up and away early Wednesday, looking at suitable places to moor with road access for Joe and Lesley on NB Yarwood whose cooker we bought. They graciously offered to deliver it in their car so we didn't have to cruise for our lives from Marsworth to Braunston. We were headed North as quickly as we could to meet them somewhere halfwayish. We fetched up on the offside of the canal right next to a layby (American's think rest stop) just south of Willow Bridge marina.

Still Rockin' glides through the bridge hole

   As we sat on the veranda eating our lunch, Les piped up, "Look Jaq--a wide beam is coming through the bridge hole." I turned to watch as very s-l-o-w-l-y a huge boat managed to make the tight turn and cruise under the small humped brick bridge. It was like watching a bridge give birth to a boat. Suddenly Les said, "Jaq it's Still Rockin'!"

   Sure enough, dear friends George and Carol cruised in a stately fashion alongside NB Val in their gorgeous new floating home. We haven't seen the Palins since October of 2012 when they asked to see our Airhead marine composting loo and decided to make the switch as well. Since then they've sold their narrow boat Rock 'n' Roll and had a lovely new wide beam boat built as a home for life. With daughter and granddaughters aboard, they hovered to chat a couple of minutes, and wow was it great to see them again! I was gobsmacked at how quiet the engine is on their boat.

George at the helm, Carol smiling goodbye. 

   Later that afternoon my cell phone rang and it was Robert from WB Wind in the Willows (no blog). We rescued his boat one cold March morning in February 2012. It had just gone into the water the day before and Robert had left it moored up to go and get the license and paperwork sorted. We came around a bend in the canal near Leighton Buzzard and his boat had come un-moored at one end and was floating across the canal. Les and I worked together to get the black wide beam back to the towpath and pinned tightly once more. Since there was no name, no license number, and no one at home on the boat, we had no idea whose it was. 

   Months later Robert came across our blog and the picture we took of his boat, and emailed to say thank you. He has since stayed in touch and become another friend along the cut, lending me a favorite book of his to read. Now we were moving again and it was time to return the book and have a good natter over a cuppa and a piece of carrot cake. 

   Robert knew exactly where the layby was and he appeared for afternoon tea. We had a lovely time catching up. Thanks Robert for the book loan and for making time to visit with us as we passed through. Keep your eyes on those Robins!

   This brings us to yesterday which dawned hot and muggy once again. I expected rain and wind in England; I did not expect 75, 80, 87, 90, and 97F heat with extra moisture on the side. It makes me ill and miserable and sucks the life out of this Alaskan woman. Never mind...I was in for a double treat today for I would finally meet Joe and Lesley. I found their blog when they were living aboard NB Caxton, back when I lived in Washington State and dreamed of a life on the cut. I've loved their blog for its tongue in cheekiness, and general good writing style

      Lesley mentioned in a recent blog post that their cooker was for sale. A Cannon Connemara stove--a house stove--not a Barbie camper oven--a real cooker, and they were planning to flog it on Ebay. I sent an email immediately letting Lesley know we were interested and after several emails back and forth, she said it was ours.

   At 11 am their car pulled into the layby, backed up and out popped Lesley and Joe. The fellas brought the stove inside and we spent an hour and a half chatting and getting to know one another in reality instead of virtual reality. As we say in the States, "Salt of the earth," those two. Fine folks indeed and kindred spirits. We look forward to catching up with them again when they are at home aboard Yarwood. I promised back in 2010 in a comment on their Caxton blog that I would stand them a pint when I finally met them. Long overdue now and something to look froward to...

   And why one might ask are there no pictures on this blog post of Robert, Joe, Lesley or the cooker arriving? Because like the dunderheads we are, we get so caught up in meeting, chatting, cups of tea, slices of life, and before we know it everyone has gone, the dust clears and then I remember and say, "Oh S****, we forgot to take pictures!"

   After parting, Les and I cruised to Fenny Stratford, and in spite of temperatures in the sun soaring to the high nineties and my comment that it was not necessary to begin the project this minute, Les worked all afternoon to remove the old stove, suss out the gas connection fittings, walked to B & Q for a couple of bits, and by dinner time there was an odd space in my galley where the Barbie oven used to live. Les had cleaned it all up nice and tidy and hooked the gas top back up for me. I fixed steak Fajitas, and we fell into our respective recliners shortly after a late dinner, to fall asleep. We finally threw in the towel and went to bed at 11:30 p.m. which is early for us.

   In the middle of the night a cracking great thunder and lightening storm swept through, clearing the heat and humidity for a couple of hours as we lay cuddled in the dark, listening to the storm above us. 

   Today we cruised until we reached Stanton Low, past Milton Keynes; ever more permanent floating communities seem to have sprung up in the last year along here. Last April we moored directly across from the old church ruins here and we were the only boat on this entire stretch; today we passed no less than a dozen boats jam packed along the curve of Stanton Low, moored up nut-to-butt. We kept going...just beyond the overflow we found a quiet stretch with some shade and no one else on the towpath side and nothing but tall grasses and shrubs on the offside. We are headed for the Leicester Arm at our own pace, in our own way...

I know what it looks like...and that's why I took it!

Onto the Aylesbury Arm

We came down the Marsworth flight of locks and settled just for one night by the reservoirs. A boat about two boat lengths (100 feet) away decided to run his engine at about 11pm and then about 7 the following morning. The noise was just a distant drone so we ignored the ignorant *astards. Just one night before we set off down the Aylesbury arm so not worth getting into a row but why!. Are these very few boaters just lacking in any form of thought or consideration for the rest of humanity or do they have a mental block, my guess is it`s probably is an alcohol block.
Beauty of living afloat is if your neighbors are not good you move on and that`s what we did. The short little video below shows Jaq taking the boat into the staircase lock leading into the Aylesbury arm. 

A little further into the cruise

Not our usual speed of cruising but although for now having some freedom of hospital appointments  we still feel the tug of the hospital umbilical cord. Our journeys must take into account my traveling back, probably by train, to attend appointments. Also when the time comes for the last operation we need to be moored preferably at Cow Roast again. So our cruising is slow over short distances.  Our intention is to go up the Leicester arm but we will see how things progress. Our next adventure will be back down the Aylesbury arm to visit family. This time our journey will not be curtailed by floods.
 A few days along the Wendover arm and down the Marsworth lock flight.

 Building has started on what was formely the concrete piling works and then a CaRT maintenance yard at the Aylebury arm junction.
The metal framework gives the impression of industrial units being built but time will reveal the final type of build these residential units will be.

Above on left the dry canal bed acts as an access to the current work site and the towpath to the right is in good condition.

The benches along the canal have had their commemorative plaques replaced in plastic after the original Brass versions were stolen

 The relining of the Wendover arm canal has made progress. On our last visit it was back around the bend by the tree line in the right hand corner of the picture.
Hopes are this section will be in water at the end of 2014. It is still about a mile to link up with the present navigable section where we moored at Little Tring. That is a lot of lining and still leaves other work including a low bridge but at least progress is visible.
Newsletter link.

The view from the footbridge taking a footpath over the canal bed. Wilstone reservoir can just be seen through the trees on the right.

The footpath takes us along a field of Wheat that has been patterned by the wind and the farmers tractor wheels.         The next field has a gate bearing a notice, that I suspect is now old, warning walkers of pregnant ewes and to keep dogs on leads. Animals, pregnant or not should mean all dogs to be on leads unless they are so well trained they can walk freely. Only two I have ever met that can be under that umbrella. Bet a lot of you know the ones. Virtual hug for the owner.              

Most stayed put as we wandered through their home but those choosing to move did so without panic.

Keep up young Jaq almost back at the Little Tring mooring.

Just a two mile walk but we have in the past taken in the reservoir that adds a lot more.

Technology allows you to trace your route on a map and it gives you the miles. I know it`s old hat tech` but to an old`n like me it`s great.
Did you know they have bread slicing machines in the bakers now? Just follow this blog, new advances are revealed on a regular basis.

Back at the Little Tring basin and the Dragon Fly has to much on it`s mind to worry about us passing by.
Well that was just a few hours out of our busy lives aboard Nb Valerie.

Little visitors

The hospital have just changed my August 1st appointment to the 29th. Life goes on and if it`s not cancelled again, the last one was changed thrice, I will come back to Watford by train from wherever we are at the time. I am fit and happy, they will not get me down.

Always nice to have the Grandchildren aboard for lunch and a cruise.
Kiernan and Kiera brought their mum Joanne who was very well behaved and ate all her lunch, so nice when the adults are good.
The two K`s are waiting for nanny Jaq to whip up the cream for the strawberries.
On the left one of many bike mounts we have seen on boats. This one swings either way depending on which side the towpath lies.

A neat Kayak power system

Just got back to the boat as these two guys launched their kayak.

In goes the pedal mechanism

Slip your feet in

and away you go.

 Hobie Mirage Drive System


You pedal by stepping alternately left and right, not unlike an exercise stepper, to drive two underwater flippers. They work much like a penguin's fins to propel the Hobie Mirage with surprising speed and ease. All of which lets you go into kayaking feet first.

All very neat but at a price.

Mikron Theatre

“It is that willing suspension of disbelief for the moment which constitutes poetic faith.” ~Samuel Taylor Coleridge, English lyrical Poet, Critic and Philosopher
    Most boaters have at least a passing knowledge of the smallest national theatrical touring group Mikron Theatre so bear with me while I provide some information to our readers who have never heard of the floating theatre group.
   Mikron (pronounced Mick-ron) whose statement of purpose is to bring "theatre anywhere, for everyone by canal, river and road," began life 43 years ago after Mike (Mick) Lucas, Sarah Cameron, and Ron Legge took a show to the Edinburgh Festival in 1963. The name is a play on their names and also is Greek for small, which exactly fits this four person traveling cast.

NB Tyseley, Mikron's floating home for the summer season

   Over the years Mikron has moved from bringing theatre to unusual venues by road, to buying NB Tyseley in 1975 and traveling the Canal system over the summer bringing waterways specific plays and other programs based on all things British.
   This bijou jewel in the Crown of British stage has existed long enough now for me to say Mikron theatre is well on its way to becoming another very fine British tradition, whose traveling actors are supported off stage by eight very talented individuals who take turns with stage direction, musical direction, booking tours, costume and stage design. In addition, there is also a skilled mechanic who keeps NB Tysley up to snuff for travel.

© 2014, Mikron Theatre Co.

   Patrons of Mikron are listed in the programme as author and activist George Monbiot, the fascinating peer Lord Montagu of Beaulieu, and actors Timothy West and Prunella Scales. The Mikron cast and crew are supported by community charitable donations large and small.
   Once the year's themes are decided, playwrights begin working on creating material, members of the crew solicit public funding, and tour dates and support are arranged for Mikron's annual tour.
   Next year's shows will feature plays on the W.I. (Women's Institute) and Fish and Chips! It really doesn't get much more British does it??
   This season's plays concern WWI in honor of its centenary year in Troupers, and British dairy involving a well known and loved past Mikron theatrical character Harvey Granelli in Till the Cows Come Home.
   The Slow Food Movement is providing part of this season's support of the latter production; The YMCA, The Imperial War Museum WWI Centenary Partnership, and Kirklees WWI is supporting the production of Troupers. 
   On a personal note, Les has wanted to attend a Mikron theatre production for nine years but he was invariably at one end of the canal system when Mikron was at the other end. Finally we were actually in the right place at the right time and that is due in huge part to our lovely friend Anonymous Angela whom we visited while moored up in Berkhamstead several weeks ago. It was she who told us NB Tyseley and the Mikron cast were on their way south from Braunston. So thank you very much dear friend for helping Les to achieve an earnest desire after so long!
   Tuesday evening was lovely; the golden sun shone, a light breeze ruffled the leaves on the cut, and soft high clouds provided a momentary respite from the heat. We were moored up three hundred or so feet from the Grand Junction Arms pub. NB Tyseley had come up the Marsworth lock flight earlier in the afternoon, mooring up in front of the pub's grassy outdoor eating area. 

© 2014, Mikron Theatre Co.

   Les and I moseyed down the towpath, and chose a picnic table just to the right of center stage as the actors set up their props in front if us. We ordered burgers, fries, and drinks, settling in as others joined us on the lawn waiting for the production to start.
   Troupers showcases the story of Lena Ashwell, (1872-1957), a British stage actress and stage manager. In 1908 she founded the Actresses Franchise League to promote equal pay and better conditions for women in theatre. 
   In 1914 Ashwell put together Concerts at the Front, bringing entertainment to British Tommies and a few hours of respite from the grim realities of war, which the British aristocracy who essentially ran the country assumed would be over soon. They were famous for saying, "We'll rout the Hun and be home before Christmas." 880,000 British men, 200,000 allied troops and 6 millions Russian Soldiers died in the "war to end all wars." One million eight hundred and eight German soldiers died as well...
   While the YMCA, who assisted Lena and her troupe in accessing the soldiers in Malta, Palestine, Egypt and France, had concerns about bringing women to war zones, the soldiers loved the slice of every day British life and laughter the traveling thespians provided. 
  As we we finished our meal, pub tables filled, and folks still came along with lawn chairs and blankets. Everyone settled in as the show began. The four actors played a host of characters with a minimal amount of props and immense talent.
   While there were plenty of laughs provided throughout the play, there were grim reminders of the cost of war as the four main characters set aside their troupers' straw hats and donned the metal Brodie Helmets worn by the soldiers. Then they turned and recited some of the unrelenting horrors Ashwell's thespians saw first hand on their tours, ending with "This letter wont' get past the censors; but I just had to write it down..."

This season's esteemed Mikron Traveling Theatre group.

   With splendid comedic timing and great depth of talent these four actors carried us from the grassy lawn of the Grand Junction Arms Pub in 2014 to the British music halls and front line horrors of World War One. Many in the audience had tears in their eyes at the end and I was no exception. 
   With great skill Nicholas Couto-Langmead, Jill Myers, John Holt-Roberts, and Esther-Grace Button eased us one and all into the suspension of disbelief, while singing, dancing, and playing a host of musical instruments. Jill Myers embouchure on trumpet is divine; the hairs on my arms stood at attention along with the countless soldiers answering the trumpet's call. If you only see one play this year, make it Mikron theatre's Troupers. You will never forget it.
   Les took some video and spliced it together. It begins with The Bugle Song: a quick call to arms in 1914; the young thespian Pandora attempting to charm snakes and Lena Ashwell as her audition for the troupe goes awry; a young well known daughter of theatrical parents treats Ashwell and her Scottish protege--a soldier who has been remitted on medical cause, but who has a voice like an angel--to tea after nearly running them over in a stolen car and astounds them with her definition of low brow, middle brow, and high brow theatre; Tonight We Laugh tells the story of how the troupers will bring music and a few minutes of happiness to the troops. Here it is then...

Video trip and the canal charity event

A cut down video of our trip through Tring Cutting on the Grand Union Canal. The only solid structures are a couple of bridges and some boats. No houses to be seen as we cruise through the trees lining the cutting sides that in places are 30 feet above the canal.
Towards the end a Heron does what herons do and flies ahead several times before it gets brave and allows us to cruise by.

Just in case anyone noticed the huge crowds of walkers and runners along the towpath on the southern end of the Grand Union canal it was not surprisingly a charity event organized by Action Challenge.
The route was from Paddington to Bletchley and gave several start points and varying lengths of 25-50-75 and 100km. For the mature Brit and U.S. readers this equates to 15-31-46and 62 miles.
Tring (pictured right) was a rest/finish point that offered refreshments, toilets,first aid and massage services.
Also if you seemed to think there were a lot of folk walking the towpath through the night it was the Watford to Bletchley 50km/31m moonlight walk that set off at 10p.m. We heard people going by at 2am.
Participants have to pay to enter and pledge a minimum donation to their chosen charity. Action challenge I guess operate as a business but charities get funds which they need. At least the charity will get funds immediately unlike the people in the street who try to get passers by to set up direct debits to a charity. The charity will not see a penny for months sometimes longer as the company keeps the payments to cover costs and while I`m at it how can people be so daft and give a stranger in the street their bank details.
Chuggers is the name for these folk and I`ll let your fingers do the Googling.

What do you think as you take a photo.

A field of Poppy's coming into bloom canal side near Tring. 

This could so easily have been that same field.  Out for a walk those were my thoughts as I took the Poppy field photo. I saw each Poppy either blooming or about to as a life ended to give me the freedom I enjoy on the canals. Those lives allowed me the freedom to cross the sea in peace and find love. Thank you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just thoughts of mine I decided to share.

Always read the small print

A lovely canalside pub at Berkhamsted and the sign on the grass says free beer. Moor up Jaq.

Oh well the excitement was good while it lasted. Should have gone to Specsavers.

No need for your specs when Kath on Nb Bobcat approaches. You can spot the cat`s eyes from quite a distance. Kath moored up for tea and cake as all good boaters do. Had been a long time since we crossed paths so it was good to natter.

Nash and Apsley, then and now

On the left is the loading dock that was built over in the 1960`s. The dock did go further into the site as can be seen on the Google picture (right) taken during demolition. Above, the loading dock entrance is marked by the concrete piles. There has been a watermill here on the River Gade since the 11th century, now it will just be housing. Sad that so much history is being wiped out. Just one building will remain converted into flats and that is Nash House former home of John Dickinson used in later times as offices.
A lot of reading containing diagrams and illustrations about Nash Mills can be found HERE.
Another interesting page showing the developers culverting and diverting the dock and opening up the below ground water channels is HERE. Money well spent as the new `waterside` housing will command premium prices. They will have canal side housing and by exposing the river they have even more money making sites. Architect has earnt his money on this site.

These boats, held up by lock gate repairs, are waiting to enter lock 67 to the right. Nowadays Apsley marina is just out of sight around the bend along the towpath.

The same view today and the only surviving building is on the right and a footbridge has been added probably to give access to the train station for the vast housing alongside and around the marina.

The same scene pictured looking towards the lock. Perhaps this way of breasting up the three boats is to prevent any queue jumpers when the lock re-opens.

Today and that one building is all that remains.

Chillin'!

"Light be the earth upon you, lightly rest." ~Euripides, 484 BCE - 406 BCE

Library books in hand, Kings Langley towpath

   Slowly, slowly we head North once more, leaving the crazy pressure and press of humanity in our wake. We've cruised in this way, staying a week or 10 days when stopping, to fill time while waiting for Les' consultation with the surgeon regarding next steps to reverse the Ileostomy.  It was June 6th and he's blogged about that so I won't.

Palouse photo and Big Love Tray

    We made friends with Susan and Colin on NB Carrie Ann while moored in Cassiobury Park last month. They are new live-aboards and really lovely folk, whose company we've enjoyed immensely. Our paths have crossed since then as we leap frog past one another along our way toward the summit.
   Les and I spent a week moored at Home Park near King's Langley, walking the local footpath into town for lunch and making several visits to the library to look at old Ordinance survey maps and check out historical books about the area and began a slow spring cleaning, washing all the curtains, cleaning out cupboards and drawers, making space on our wall for a Big Love Tray by Emma Bridgewater potteries--a gift from friends Lael and Larry in Idaho and in so doing, finally freeing up the perfect spot for our wedding gift from friends Karen and Jim Barron in Pullman, Washington--a photo of the Palouse in flower. The tray matches our Big Love mug--another lovely gift from dear friends Sue and Ken Deveson of NB Cleddau; we have a decor theme going!
   We puttered up to Apsley for water, caught up with NB Carrie Ann once more and spent a delightful evening aboard their lovely boat chatting, laughing, and drinking wine. The craic was grand!
   We moved on to Bourne End for a week, moored up across from Pix's Farm--a delightful pocket of countryside surrounded by the growing babble of London's ex-urbs. We discovered at the Hemel Hempstead library, that Pix's Farm Lane is an old roman Road! Imagine Romans walking along that old lane 1900 years ago!

Pix's Farm at 5 am, Bourne End, Grand Union Canal

Continuing the view around to Sharpes Lane Bridge, Bourne End

   On our first day there we saw: 4 horses and 2 goats in the field across from us; 36 Canada Geese and 6 goslings; a swan bathing in the early morning light, magpies, wrens, a mated pair of Cormorants, 4 Herons also in the field, waiting for frogs maybe??
   We watched a Moor hen make its way along followed by 8 feathery babies all looking like miniature escapees from Fraggle Rock, and a mother duck with three new babies. She sunned herself on the bank directly across from our bow while we watched for nearly an hour as one by one, her babies each figured out how to escape the water and settle beside their mother. The smallest chick was last, making several mock running attempts toward the bank, grabbing at leaves with its beak as it finally hoiked itself out of the canal.
   As the afternoon wore on were privy to a continual parade of Martins swooping and diving for sips of water, snatching insects on the wing. A walk up to the bridge allowed us to spy thousands of tiddlers (small fry) basking in a spot of sun warmed water. Later we spotted 15 Bream cruising slowly along the bank looking for spawning places. Bees hummed in the hedgerows, and life began to feel like the deep breath before bursting into glorious song.
   We spent two hectic days in Berkhamsted catching up with our wonderful friend Angela, whose home we moored in back of, checking out her neighborhood and the local market, walking along the streets of Berko with A. who played tour guide and generous hostess. We chatted about anything and everything as we three enjoyed the BEST Maple Cured, free range, Gammon (Ham) Rib Eye steak of our lives at The Old Mill Inn (Aubrey Allen--the Queen's butcher supplies the Mill Inn with cuts of meat). If its good enough for The Queen--its good enough for the three of us!
   While we were moored there another boating friend passed on her way to the Big Smoke. We were pleased as punch to see Kath on NB Bobcat coming our way. She pulled over and stopped for a cuppa and a slice of blueberry Lemon Drizzle cake while we caught up. It had been almost two years to the date since we saw Kath last in person up at Tixall Wide. Thanks for stopping. Enjoy the rest of your journey south and we look forward to seeing you again sooner than later! 
  We left on a sunny morning with a poesy of flowers resting on our bow--a sweet and thoughtful present from Ang as we headed out for Dudswell Lock where the donkeys are penned near the towpath in a huge, well manicured yard. Along the way I took the opportunity to manually haul the boat into a lock without using the lock ladders. I want to continue practising in and out, going up and down until I feel totally confident in my skills at single handing--at least in practice. 
   Moored up now in the quiet before the summit, I finally feel like I can breathe again. Five months of cruising south to London, waiting two weeks at Cassiobury in Watford, and making our way north again left my soul feeling pinched and strangled.
  On our anniversary Les took me to the Tring library, where we checked out some books and wandered around the village.
   We shared a delicious meal at Pizza Express in Berko, toasting to three amazing years of married life. We wanted to eat at Francesco's Italian Restaurant in Tring--a family affair with truly delicious food--but it didn't open until 6 pm and by the time we ate it would be difficult to catch of the final two buses of the evening back to Dudswell.
   Never mind, not only did we enjoy our pizza in Berko, we met up with another lovely friend on his way to dinner as well--Mike Wall of NB Independence. He is one of my two knights in shining armor who provided rides to Watford Hospital and the grocery store while Les was in hospital last Autumn.
  We walked up to Cow Roast Chandlery and picked up a Towpath Talk, stopping to sit on the lock gates and visit with Mike Griffin (our other shining knight). It is always a gift to see the face of a friend. As we walked back to the boat I took the opportunity to pick some Comfrey leaves from plants that had not yet set blossom, to tincture in olive oil for the making of salve later in the summer.
   We took advantage of the sunshine and washed three loads of clothes and hung it all out to dry, airing our pillows and down comforter as well. Sitting in the sun, reading our library books and eating lunch, we indulged in a bit of bank side gongoozling as we watched the hire boats and weekender's from the marina too-ing and froe-ing up and down the pound.
   Les has engaged in some handiwork, removing our Sky dish and repainting our satellite pole, cleaning up the tangle of wires on the bow and tidying things up. I whipped up wok of Kung Pao chicken with rice for dinner and we howled with laughter over Graham Norton's season finale show with comedians John Bishop, and  Brendan O'Carroll (Mrs. Brown). We've stayed up reading until 1:30 am, slept in, and finally chilled out!