Weston Lock to Alrewas

Weston Lock to Alrewas

It’s 6.10 am on Saturday 5th September and, despite that, it’s pretty darn cold in the mornings now. Supposedly there is a mini heat wave on the way, but they have yet to convince me of the fact. I get up from our bed two or three times during the night and I now have my heavy duty house coat ready to slip on. I think then, that we’re going to have to light our fire this afternoon.

I’ve noticed lately that the geese are now circling overhead in the late afternoon and evening I suspect they are now readying themselves to leave these shores for warmer climes. However, Wifey tells me that they have now acclimatised themselves to our winters and no longer migrate. Still, at least the swallows are still here but, according to my nearest and dearest, they’ll be off to Africa by the beginning of October. A very knowledgeable lady is my missus.

Today we’re moving on to Great Haywood for the weekend and, if we can moor up above the lock, then we’ll be able to call in at the local watering-hole. But, if we have to go down that lock and moor up further on, then it will be to long a walk back to the pub, so goodbye Sunday drinkie pohs.

We left Weston at 8 am this morning, Saturday with the intention of calling in at Great Haywood Marina for a pump-out, diesel, water, coal and gas, but not necessarily in that order. Unfortunately we had left it rather late and had to remove some of the waste ourselves. I suppose we should have gone straight on to Great Haywood yesterday, but the weather was not being that kind to us. Normally, when the red warning light comes on, we have a good two days before a pump out is necessary, but that was not the case this time. Too much info? Well, what you see is what you get, warts and all.

So, anyway, we arrived at the marina and were fortunate enough to get served straight away. The diesel and pump-out usually take about half an hour and today was no different. After the pump-out though, almost all boatyards give about a litre of concentrated blue, which, in the past, we would have poured directly down the outlet hole. However, after being advised that this was not the best way to do so, because it simply sits at the bottom without mixing with the water that’s added, we now pour it straight down the loo and flush a couple of times.

With the problems we’ve been having with the loo over filling after the flush, we’re very careful about ensuring the basin stops filling, and we do so by running one of the sink taps until the bowl stops filling. With me so far? Well, on this occasion, probably because there was now another boat waiting to come in, I kind of rushed things a bit. Yep, you guessed it, by the time Wifey had finished paying for the service and climbed back into the boat, there was water all over the floor and soaking into the hall carpet. She was not well pleased.

With just three weeks to go before we settle in to our new home at Pillings Lock marina, we have so far covered 261 locks and 493 miles, which took 261 ½ hours of cruising and burning 658 litres of diesel in the process. Nowadays we have to divide the cost of fuel between propulsion, which is charged at the same rate as car drivers, and domestic usage, which id VAT free. By the time we reach our moorings we would have spent over £500 on fuel, which aint bad for almost six months cruising.

Now, as we’re pretty close to the lock here at Great Haywood, it shouldn’t be too difficult a task for me to walk to the local pub, The Clifford Arms. According to the Nicholson Guide, there has been a pub on that site for almost 1000 years, yes, you read that right, 1000 years. Originally it was a coaching inn, but it is now described as a friendly village pub. We agree, because we have used it in the past.

Shortly after we arrived hear we heard the sound of music coming from the direction of Shugborough Hall and, sure enough, they are now belting it out good and proper. Sadly it’s a pretty long walk from here, otherwise I could be tempted to take a look.

Wrong again dad, it seems the concert at Shugborough Hall is for the local Girl Guides and Brownies, to celebrate their centenary. They certainly seem to be having a whale of a time, if their cheers are anything to go by.

It’s Sunday morning now and I’ve just remembered something from yesterday. We were about half way to Great Haywood and passing a line of moored boats, obviously long-term moorings, and noticed quite a bit of activity at the far end of the field. Loads of smoke, loads of kids running around, most unusual for that time of morning. As we drew abreast of the fire we noticed the pig, it wasn’t just any old pig, this was a whopper and it was being turned on a spit over the fire. I would love to have been there come lunchtime, and that’s for sure. This could well have been the last weekend before the start of the new school term and those kids were getting a rare old treat. Lovely!

Morning all, having been woken up at 06.30 this morning by our fluffly little tyke, I fear I’m a wee bit later that usual. It’s no almost 7 o/clock and I’ve just sat down with my first cuppa of the day. It’s Tuesday 8th September and we’re now about three miles out of Great Haywood, at Taft Bridge, which is named after the farm across the way.

When we arrived here yesterday morning we were surprised to see so many boats moored up, between the bridge and the bend in the canal I counted 12, in addition to which there are a couple moored on the opposite bank. However, in the grounds of the big house before the bridge there’s a marquee, which boasts a big sign telling us that there’s a meeting of The Boaters Christian Fellowship. Put that together with the fact that most of the boats here also display a similar sticker, and we now know why there are so many. Had it been a chapter of the local Hells Angels, we probably wouldn’t have stayed.

Today we’ll be off to Rugeley, which is another three miles away and where there’s a Morrison’s store. We’ve stayed overnight there before, in fact when we came through in May, but another boater warned us yesterday that there had been a spot of bother with local louts of late; walking by boats and throwing stuff off the tops and into the canal, and even trying to smash a window with a chair; so we’ll just stop for shopping and move on a bit.

It is now Wednesday 9th September and we’re at a little place called Handsacre, no mention of which is made in the Nicholson’s Guide. However, the pub on the green, which is called The Crown is, and is reported to be about 300 years old. We also know that there’s a shop nearby because we’ve seen people bearing gifts back to their boats. Beyond The Crown is another pub called the Old Peculiar, so we’re a little spoiled for choice here. I suppose we could give them both a try, one at lunchtime and the other in the evening, but I’m afraid those days are long gone for me now.

If we are to reach our moorings by the end of the month we have just 22 days in which to do so. Having taken a quick count, we now have about 43 miles, 23 single locks and eight doubles, which are on the Leicester Arm of the GUC. It looks like we’ll have to slow down to a crawl of 2 miles per day instead of our blisteringly fast three.

Strange to say, although we’ve passed through Handsacre on more than one occasion, the moorings have always been full and we’ve been unable to stop for the night, which is why, since we were fortunate enough to find a hole big enough for our 56 footer, we’re giving The Crown a try today. We might even test out their cuisine.

It is now late afternoon and we’ve enjoyed our pub visit, along with a few pints and a Ciabatta, mine with bacon and brie, Sheila’s with mild chilli and chicken. We also indulged in a bowl of chips, as seems to be our habit these days. Well, we try to avoid such stuff on the boat and save it for pub grub.

The pub itself appears to have been recently renovated, because the paintwork is all shiny and new and the bar is built entirely of timber. Along with the new carpet and down-lighting, we think they’ve done a pretty good job. Not too posh but clean and modern looking, definitely 21st century.

We are now moored just above Shadehouse Lock, which is just two locks short of Fradley Junction, which is where we’ll be heading tomorrow morning. Today is Thursday 10th September and, as we approached this lock, we kinda hemmed and hawed about pulling in for the night, even though it was only 10 am. So much so that we almost passed the most likely spot to pull in, which is at the very end of the moorings We do this whenever we can, because it pre-empts the problem of having to move a few feet either way in order to allow another boat to moor up. Being at the very end nobody can ask us to do so and, therefore, they are obliged to find somewhere else to pull in.

Down at the junction there is a pub that we paid a visit to last time we came through, and there is also a café, which is situated between the 3rd and 4th locks down. Now, since I enjoyed my Guinnesses yesterday and not wishing to appear greedy and something of a sot, we’re going to pay the café a visit tomorrow lunchtime, just for a change. They also have a gift shop next door, which makes this a very popular spot with boaters and locals alike.

Good morning from Fradley at 06.30 on Friday 11th September, where the day has started with a clear blue sky. I am usually up between 06.00 and 06.30 most mornings and, before the kettle whistles, I’ve dressed, opened the curtains to welcome the new day and have set the laptop up ready to update the blog. Today is no different in that respect, except to say that this must be one of the quietest, most peaceful spots we have ever moored at. The best of it is, that the moorings here are very much a rarity in that, we’re only a short walk from a very popular visitor’s area and, if we want to, we could stay here for 14 days.

We have thick woods opposite and a line of trees on the towpath side, with open fields stretching beyond them. During a really hot spell those trees would be a real blessing, because without them the boat would become unbearably hot inside. Only a few days ago I insisted we light our fire because the early mornings were becoming quite cold. The reason for this is the unreliability of our heating system which, if we haven’t run the engine for long enough, or we haven’t run the heater the day before, the batteries simply do not have enough power to run it. This will all change once we’re attached to mains electrickery at the marina.

We were considering moving the boat down between the 3rd and 4th locks today, so as to be nearer to the café and gift shop, but we’ve decided to stay here and I am going to be very brave and have a shot at walking it.

Morning all, it’s Saturday 12th September and I’m sitting here enjoying a cup of tea and a spot of lonesome time. The first thing I want to do is ask a question, and it is this: Why is it that the Microsoft Corporation think they knows what is best for your computer? As is my usual practice once I am dressed, I switch on the laptop and log on, though why I still have Sheila as a second user I don’t know.

Anyway, this morning I followed the same path and, lo and behold, instead of the pretty, blue, Microsoft ripple pattern on my desktop, I found the Acer screen and half my desktop icons missing. And there, in the bottom, right hand corner was a nag screen telling me my computer was at risk because I had Automatic Updates turned off. Well, of course it is turned off. That’s because I do not wish to inadvertently download and install anything that might actually harm my laptop, such as Microsoft Updates, as happened to my brother only a few weeks ago. And besides, I like my laptop the way it is, even though it does tend to mess me about from time to time, and that is only since it last crashed and I re-formatted the HDD.

There are times when I could cheerfully throw this thing into the canal, but today is not one of those days. However, I will be replacing it at the earliest opportunity, simply because I still find myself becoming quite frustrated at its little quirks and foibles.

How many of you remember the last family get together? I do, and I distinctly remember us all clustering around Carole and Bob’s shiny new Jaguar and, especially my remark about being in love. Of course, being pensioners and on State Pensions, there’s no way Sheila and I would even consider getting into debt for such a luxury, especially as we don’t need a car for six months of the year whilst we are cruising.

However, I have been considering getting rid of the Rav 4 for some time and, to that end, my brother has asked around to see if he can sell it for me. The good news is, he may well have found a buyer, in the person of a family member named Jayne. Of course, even if she does want it, we will still need it for a few weeks, because we’ll need to drive to our nearest GP and sign on, and I’ll need it in order to search out another car with which to replace it.

One of the sprightliest cars we owned was the Alfa Romeo 146, which was one of the cars we had when I worked for Chariots for Hire. We also had a new shape Celica and an MGF, both of which set us back a few quid. The Alfa however, is a different gether altomatter, because one of those can still be picked up for less than £1000, so that’s what I’ll e looking out for just as soon as we get to our moorings.

Today we’ll be off to Alrewas, which is just a few miles away and about 5 locks. Fortunately for me there’s a pub by the side of the canal, so Sunday is taken care of.

What a glorious day we had yesterday, and it looks like being another one today. Our Saturday evening pleasure was only marred by the twit behind us who, at about 6 pm, having just arrived, bashed on the side of Shiralee asking how long I intended to keep the engine running. The poor wee darling wanted to sit outside with his fellow boaters, and our exhaust fumes were becoming something of a distraction. When I explained that we needed to top our batteries up and would be running for a couple of hours, his response was, “Can’t you run it later”. Well, of course, I had to say “No, because then I would have to run it after 8 pm, which would mean non-compliance with our BW Licence rules”. He went away at that, but I could tell he was not a happy bunny.

Now, today being Sunday 13th September, and the nearest pub being only a five minute walk away, you can all guess where we’ll be at lunchtime. Still, whilst we are there, and if our neighbours are still behind us, they can sit outside while we’re away. I suspect though, that they’ll be on there way to pastures new by then.

Alrewas is quite a big Staffordshire town and, on previous occasions, I have walked to the shops and pub with Wifey, but I’m hanged if I can remember what it looks like. As with most canal-side towns and villages, the canal runs along one edge, in this case the eastern edge. It boasts a Post Office, butcher’s shop, chemist, tea rooms and a chippie, so it can’t be all bad. It also has a bowling green and a church, which is a very spacious building of mainly 13th century construction, noted for the old leper window, which now houses modern stained glass.

The town also touches on the River Trent, which once drove the local cotton mill, long since turned into housing. The name Alrewas is pronounced ‘olrewus’ and is a corruption of the words Alder Wash, which is a reference to the many alder trees which once grew in the, often flooded, Trent valley and gave rise to the basket weaving, for which the village was once famous.

Now, despite the fact that we are moored between buildings, which line both sides of the canal, I’ve had no problem accessing the internet so, without further ado, I’ll see what I can do to post this blog, warts and all and misspellings, etcetera.

I know, I told you the last blog would be the penultimate one, but this has now run to seven pages and I’ll still have time for one more before we reach Pillings Lock Marina.

Cheers for now from,

Dave, Sheila and Rusty. Enjoy your Sunday.