A couple of gems

We're keeping busy, but the weather's not always been helpful. Rain and strong winds have slowed Grace's progress towards painting the Roses and Castles. Yesterday too hot for the paint. Today too, probably. I've done all that's needed to the engine to have it ready for the next cruise. And there's a list of other bits and pieces for us to do which could wait for a couple of weeks if necessary. Painting has to take priority.

Having seen Simon Pegg playing Benji in Mission Impossible the other week, we chose an inclement day more recently to see him in Absolutely Anything.

"A council of aliens, travelling from planet to planet to see what kind of species inhabit them, take a look at Earth. If they find the people to be "decent" by their standards, they are welcomed to be their friends. If not, the planet is destroyed. To find out, they choose one inhabitant and give that person the power to do whatever they want. On Earth, they choose Neil Clarke, a teacher who is constantly being berated by his headmaster. He is attracted to his neighbour, Catherine but doesn't have the courage to approach her. But now he can do anything he wants, he has to be careful."

Very silly, very funny and great entertainment. With a top cast, too. Though not very well reviewed yet.

Unlike cinema-viewed films, DVD viewings don't usually get a mention on this blog, but today I have to make an exception. Two exceptions, in fact. Grace and I have recently watched a couple of DVDs from the marina library, and both of them were absolute gems.

Australia, a 2008 production starring Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman, is another film which is underrated on IMDB. But it's a film with a good story, a lot of human interest, humour and pathos, action, and a good dose of mystery.

"In northern Australia at the beginning of World War II, an English aristocrat inherits a cattle station the size of Maryland. When English cattle barons plot to take her land, she reluctantly joins forces with a rough-hewn stock-man to drive 2,000 head of cattle across hundreds of miles of the country's most unforgiving land, only to face the bombing of Darwin by the Japanese forces that had attacked Pearl Harbour only months earlier."

The second gem is Blessed (2008). James Nesbitt co-stars with 8 year-old Lil Woods in a moving, inspiring story.

"A successful city trader suddenly loses everything he truly cares about. Seeking comfort in isolation on a remote island, his life is turned upside down by the arrival of a little girl."

That's all you need to know really. Watch it! In interview, James Nesbitt said that the role of Peter was one he'd waited his whole professional life to play. The particular challenge was the lack of dialogue (he says not a word for about half of the duration of the film) and the need to develop the character without words.

So where was summer?

Or is that it, now? From now on? A shorter summer, with hot bits, cold bits, very hot bits, pretty chilly bits and lots of wet bits? I remember proper summers, back in the day, when I could have my 23rd September birthday party on the common, under a warm, blue sky. As I type, it's flipping nippy, and I'm considering lighting the stove.

So, back to the house on Saturday 8th, with Grace and Jess going to Hamlet on the Monday, and various housey/gardeny jobs to do on the other days. We managed to get dentist/hygienist appointments on the next day, and came back to the boat the next day. Not for long, though. We had the guys from Sofa Bed Barn coming on the following Saturday with our new sofa bed, and we still had the old sofa to get rid of. I'd advertised it here at the marina, and on FreeCycle locally and in St Albans, but the only interest was in St Albans. So back we went on Sunday, with the sofa in the back of the car. It's a small one. A "cuddle chair". The man I'd agreed to give it to just didn't turn up that day as he should have, so I notified the second in line before we came back early on Monday, and she'll arrange collection with Naomi.

The new sofa bed's great. Not perfect, but perfection's a lot to expect. For one thing, it's larger than the other sofa, larger than it looked in the warehouse, and that'll take some getting used to. But it makes a good double bed, it has the useful drawer under it, and it is more comfortable than the other, too.

On one of the grimmer days recently, we went to see Mission Impossible - Rogue Nation.

"With the IMF now disbanded and Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) out in the cold, a new threat, called the Syndicate, soon emerges. The Syndicate is a network of highly skilled operatives who are dedicated to establishing a new world order via an escalating series of terrorist attacks. Faced with what may be the most impossible mission yet, Ethan gathers his team and joins forces with Ilsa Faust (Rebecca Ferguson), a disavowed British agent who may or may not be a member of this deadly rogue nation."

It was, of course, excellent entertainment. We'd hoped to be able to spot Naomi amongst the cast of extras, but missed her. At least she had fun, got paid well, and had Tom Cruise say "Good morning!" to her!

Finishing touches

We're back at the house at the moment. Various domestic bits and sods to sort out, and Grace and Jess are going to the Barbican tomorrow, to see Benedict Cumberbatch play Hamlet. Amidst all of the odd jobs, I've had the time to complete my book. It's all done now, though it'll need proof-reading and copy-editing before it's ready to upload to Kindle. I have over 2000 photos on Flickr to illustrate it, but the site's being playing up lately, and unsorting photos that I've sorted, so that's slowed me down a fair bit. It's nearly done, though.

To whet your appetite for this 280-page masterpiece...

I'm really looking forward to seeing how it's received by Kindle readers. To quote from the Foreword...

It's my hope that this book of mine will attract readers with different interests in canals and canal life. Perhaps some of you are already living in a similar boat, part-time or full-time. Some of you have maybe had narrowboat holidays. Others will be considering one or other of those, or both. Or neither. Whichever it is, I do hope that each of you finds it interesting, that it answers some of your questions, teaches you things you didn't know, entertains you, amuses you, and gives you a chance to laugh at some of our experiences, our mishaps and mistakes. If you're an experienced boater, you're bound to have at least a chuckle at some of our early ignorance and naivety. Please feel free. I've certainly done so whilst writing this.

 Watch this blog!

"Isn't it strange how life won't flow, like a river, but moves in jumps, as if it were held back by locks that are opened now and then to let it jump forwards in a kind of flood?" (Anita Desai)

Trent trip - final day

Wednesday morning, and, after long farewells with Dave and Sandy, we left Smeeton and moved on. San Fairy Ann led the way, past Debdale Wharf and on to Foxton, where they turned left and went up the Market Harborough Arm, and we moored up at the foot of the locks, to wait to go up.

Dave and Sandy are a lovely couple, and they made our already very enjoyable trip even more so. We seem to have a lot in common with them, and we got on really well together. We enjoyed lots of conversation, very many laughs, hours of games. We became good friends.

I love it that they talk about feeling "privileged" to be living on their boat for eight months of the year. It's a word you don't hear very often these days. People now seem to think that they have an automatic right to good things. "I've worked for it", or "I've paid my dues", their just desert. Like us, Dave and Sandy feel privileged, and I believe they enjoy their boating all the more because of that.

They're off to Liverpool next month. We'll have to do that another year. This year, we have to be at Yelvertoft so that Grace can practise then complete the roses and castles on Kantara. We'll stay in touch with Sandy and Dave, and we hope very much to travel with them again some time.

Grace and I had a long haul back to Yelvertoft, slowed at times by others - difficult meetings at bridges and bends, and having to follow one young man on a boat which rarely went anything other than dead slow. Slowing down for moored craft meant, for him, drifting past in neutral! But at least we escaped the rain which loomed in the clouds all around us.

Arriving back at the marina late, and too tired to do anything else, we ate at The George and went to bed early.

It was a great trip. 200 miles and 128 locks.We thoroughly recommend the River Trent. 

Heaven

I see a turning wheel
On a dusty track,
Caught in the void and empty space
In between there and back,
And the paradise of going somewhere
That's still so far away.
Happy? Boy you bet I am,
Holding on to this smile for just as long as I can.

Heaven

It's all bright in front
And it's all dark behind,
Livin' for the now that's in between the bridges and the signs,
And getting there is still a long long way to go.
While the others dream and wish
This is everything I officially need to know.
Happy? Boy you bet I am,
Holding on to this smile for just as long as I can.

Heaven

(Chris Rea)

My song of the moment. I don't claim fully to understand the lyrics, but a lot of it just sounds so right for me. If I fully understood it, I might think otherwise! I'm singing it a lot. Love it.

Out of Leicester, and getting stoned at Pochin's Bridge

There was heavy rain throughout the Leicester evening, and the four of us all had a quiet night in, in our own boats. It was cold. A damp cold. We turned on the Alde boiler and put on pullovers. Just before bed, we realised that the boat was listing. I got out to investigate. The river had risen in the rain, and our ropes were now too tight, pulling the side of the boat down towards the bank. Smiling at the driving rain, I loosened them all. And went to bed.

The rain had finished by the morning, and we'd not been swept away by the flooding river, nor even had the ropes got too tight again. White cloud was forecast for the day. Yeah, right. So after a quick trip to Tesco to buy food for the remaining days of the trip, and a visit from an old guy who purported not to be a robber, but homeless, unemployed, not having eaten for two days and in need of some money, but wouldn't let me take him to Tesco to buy him some food instead, because he didn't need it right now, he wanted to buy it himself later, he could be trusted, he wasn't going to spend it on drugs or drink, and he doesn't smoke. I said if he hadn't eaten for two days, why on earth did he want to eat later, and not straight away. He just did, he said. Could he come back later and get some money from me then? No, I said, we're just about to leave. If you can't take up my offer of a meal now, then I'm afraid I don't trust you with any money I might give you, and I can't help. And he left. Sigh. I did try to help.

We set off together, 20 lock miles to Kilby Bridge, which isn't a bridge, but a village. The locks were all in our favour, Sandy and I had our locking routines running smoothly, though the paddle mechanisms weren't always on our side! and Grace and Dave were very slick at entering and leaving locks together. We were a very good team. The weather was just right, too.

The River Soar is very varied, and on this day a lot of it was narrow and winding. On one occasion, just past St Mary's Mill Lock, Grace and I were seriously thinking that we might have taken a wrong turn, and got onto a backwater which was going to shrink to nothing very shortly. Reeds, water-weeds, overhanging trees, and almost not enough room even for ducks as we passed through. It put me in mind of the River Avon as it flows through Rugby. Not exactly what one has in mind when hearing the name "River". In other parts, though, it was broad and beautiful.

Our enjoyment was spoiled somewhat as we passed under Pochin's Bridge, no. 91 - the lock after Ervin's Lock, where two teenagers had unpinned us on the way down. On this bridge stood a gaggle of mixed-sized kids, who peered over as first Fairy then Kantara passed under. Dave said afterwards that he and Sandy had expected trouble from them, but they got none. I, however, wasn't too bothered by them - and we got stoned! A few metres beyond the bridge, a large piece of mortar flew close past us and hammered onto the underside of the open hatch in front of us. Another stone splashed into the water alongside. I turned around to see the perps watching gleefully, grabbed a camera and pretended (it was still in its case) to take a photo of them. They disappeared behind the parapet, but followed us from a distance, leading us to expect further trouble. There was none. It rained hard, and their malicious intentions were thwarted by their dislike of being wet. There was nothing the police could have done to catch them. They weren't near a public road, and we had no descriptions of any of them, but I phoned Leicestershire Police anyway, just so that they could be aware. I Tweeted the details to CRT as well, and my boating followers on Twitter, just in case it might help others to avoid similar problems. There was no harm done, just the tiniest of dents, amazingly, to some fairly insignificant paintwork.

We took two of the last three available moorings at Kilby Bridge, not the most picturesque of sites, but a decent mooring with full services on the opposite side of the river. It was our penultimate evening with Sandy and Dave, and we spent it with them, swapping stories over glasses of wine.

"...not the most picturesque of sites"

Full services across the river before making off into a day of 11 locks, sunshine, showers, heavy showers, wind and still. Odd weather, innit? The new, typical UK summer. We stopped for lunch at Ivy Bridge, it showered as we arrived, poured as we left again. There was very little traffic, and what there was was going the opposite way from us, and leaving the locks in our favour. One such boat was a hire-boat, not long into the crew's holiday, sharing locks with a grumpy, lone male boater in a slum boat, who knew it all - as they do. He had the gall to tell the holidaying skipper to stay where he was in the lock while he, the solo expert, drove ahead of him into the lock we were vacating. This put the poor bloke in the difficult situation of having to cross a fairly narrow pound while our two boats were approaching. I hope those holidaymakers had the sense to stop for a cuppa while the surly bloke put some distance between them.

Dave's just removed a lot of weed from his propellor.

Saddington Tunnel, and a pruning job to be done just beyond the exit, where a thick shrub (which, to my displeasure, turned out to be Hawthorn) was narrowing passage quite considerably, in league with a willow opposite. One much-prickled and torn Roger cut it back as much as he could without falling in. The river is beautiful here, beautiful countryside dotted with sheep, cows, and horses of a very distinctive and unusual type. Ripening wheat stood golden against a background of stormy skies, and trees glowing bright green under the sun.

We moored on Smeeton Aqueduct, just 15 miles from Leicester, where we were two days previously. I'm told the old working boats pulled by horse travelled faster! But then, every minute meant money to them, and they didn't stop, except in dire emergency. And there was no speed limit for them, either. 4 mph for us, it is.

Our final evening with Dave and Sandy was spent playing RummiKub, Greedy and Cribbage.

Our leaking pipe was under control.

"Work is what people do who don't go boating." (A plaque on the front of San Fairy Ann's cabin)