Shiralee Cruise 2011 #28

Sunday 11th September.

I’m sure that, like us on Shiralee, you will have given some thought to all those who suffered, and are still suffering, from the devastation cause by 9/11.

Yesterday was quite ordinary in terms of cruising, with just 5½ miles to go to Market Bosworth and no locks. The trip took about two hours and, since the Ashby must me just about the dirtiest canal on the system, we picked up a load of rubbish on the bow, which Wifey finally removed with the boat hook.

Sadly the town is quite a distance away from our moorings and, with the buses only running every hour – typical! – we decided it would be more expedient for Sheila to walk in for groceries.

Today, if the weather continues as it is, with blue skies and a following wind, we’ll probably move on to the Leicestershire village of Congerstone, which is only two miles away and boasts a pub called The Horse and Jockey that is only a short walk from the canal. If we don’t move on today, and if the forecasters are correct in their predictions of severe storms, we won’t be moving on tomorrow either, which means I’ll miss my Sunday drink, and that would be a devastating state of affairs.

10.45 am from Congerstone and, as expected, the local pub is no longer trading. However, since I’m not busting for a drink and moorings are pretty scarce at Shackerstone, we’re staying here for today and, if the expected storm hits tomorrow, we’ll still be here and move on on Tuesday.
Monday 12th September.

The wind is winding and I have to get the dog out before the rain starts raining.

O.K. That’s that little job jobbed, poochy is watered and pooped.

Yesterday, despite what we feared, stayed dry but windy. Today however, having seen the Countryfile programme last night, should be mostly dry. It seems that the heavy rain and storms previously predicted for this part of the UK, will now be felt, in all their glory, much further north. So, you nice folks who have just returned from a very pleasant cruise, will now have to batten down the hatches.

The moorings at Congerstone are so quiet and isolated, and we really have no immediate need to move on, so we’ll probably stay another day and go on to Shackerstone or Snarestone tomorrow. Snarestone is the end of the navigable stretch of the Ashby Canal. There are plans to have it extended all the way to Ashby-de-la-Zouche, but I doubt it wall happen in my lifetime, it took 38 years to complete the restoration of the Droitwich canals, what chance the Ashby?

Tuesday 13th September.

The early mornings are getting cooler, which I especially notice when I am obliged to walk Rusty at 05.30, when it is still dark. Still, she only pesters that early if she’s really busting for a pee. After yesterdays high winds this morning is relatively calm, so we’ll be off to Shackerstone or Snarestone, depending upon which of them we can find moorings at. Shackerstone will probably be OK, since all the boats attending last weekends jaunt have now departed.

If we stop at Shackerstone we’ll probably give The Rising Sun a look in at lunchtime. If we have to go on to Snarestone it will be The Globe, but that will be after a bus trip into Measham, to which this will be our first visit. That assumes of course that buses actually run from anywhere near the moorings, you can never tell when out cruising.

My dear brother Alan recently informed me that our Alfa 147 is playing up. He’s having problems starting the thing because, in the first instance, the battery had gone flat from lack of use and, in the most recent instance, because the computer wouldn’t recognise the Key Code.

The reasons for these problems could be either of at least two things; a/ the Code has been lost from the key or, b/ the computer didn’t like the fact that he used jump-leads in order to try starting it. Either way it looks like more expense on our part. Yesterday Alan phoned to tell me he was going to try charging our battery up overnight and see if that does the trick. If that doesn’t work, he’ll take the key to have it checked out and re-coded. If those two don’t work it will mean a new battery for the car and the services of an expert in these matters.

I tell you, I only have to turn my back on a car and it will go wrong. These things rarely happen while I’m around. I simply do not have problems with cars, except the usual flat tyres and such. A few weeks after I sold the RAV4 the timing belt snapped, and you all know the problems we had with the Alfa before this one, and that was soon after getting it back after cruising. Still, looking on the positive side, Alan has several weeks yet to get the darned thing fixed.

Same Day 15.15.
We arrived at Snarestone at about 10.15 this morning, after a great deal of struggle against strong winds. It wasn’t that way when we left Congerstone, but developed after we had passed through Shackerstone. Anyway, after passing through the 250 yard tunnel, topping up with water and disposing of rubbish, we turned around and moored up.

We were hoping to visit The Globe for lunch but, as seems to be happening more and more these days, we found that the place only opens in the evenings. We then decided to take a bus into Measham, but Sheila was unable to discover exactly where the bus stop was.

Just opposite the water point is a cabin, which holds all kinds of info about the Ashby canal and what is being done to restore it. This is cared for by a gentleman who lives on his boat nearby. Upon asking him about bus times, he suggested we ask the pub landlord. We’re not making much progress here so far!!

Eventually I did what I should have done in the first place, I went online and found the phone number of the bus company who run services through here, and I gave them a call, which resulted in times for tomorrow morning. So, around 10.30 tomorrow morning we’ll take the bus into Measham and be back for about half past one. Sorted!

Wednesday 14th September and, at 06.30 the sky is clear and that wind has dropped. Hopefully it will stay that way for our trip into Measham.

I spoke to a couple yesterday who had walked along the towpath as far as Moira, which is about a mile or so the other side of Measham. It seems that the Ashby Canal Society are making good progress restoring that end of the canal, whilst this end has already been improved, with a slipway and concrete edges to the canal. Unfortunately these restoration projects rely on volunteers for the most part, so I don’t see it being completed any time soon. It really is a shame that government is so blinkered and can’t see the benefits to local communities of these derelict canals being opened. Environment ministers are always keen to appear in public, spouting rhetoric about how they are improving small businesses in small communities, but that’s all it is, rhetoric! No actual financial assistance is ever forthcoming.

Thursday 15th September.

Yesterday we took a trip into Measham by bus for some shopping. Having found almost all that we needed in Tesco, the local butcher and a card shop, we then had about 1 ½ hours to kill before catching the return bus, and it wasn’t even midday. So, we popped into a local coffee shop for coffee and tea cakes.

At about 11.10, whilst we were sitting there enjoying our snack, along came a bus that looked suspiciously like the one we came up on. After coffee we strolled along to the bus stop and discovered that we really didn’t have to wait for the 13.10 for our lift home, because there was another one due at 11.40, only 10 minutes away. However, having waited until 11.50 without said bus arriving, I telephoned the bus company, only to discover that the timetable attached to the bus stop was wrong and we did, indeed, have to wait until 13.10, over an hour away. It seems that the locals have been complaining about this for quite a while with the County Council, because it is they who should be installing the correct timetable.

Fortunately, just across the road from the stop there sits a Community Office, where Wifey gleaned the number of a local cabby and, at the cost of a fiver, we were home safely before 12.30, the walk from the drop off point being of longer duration than the cab ride. With hindsight we should have gone on to Ashby, only another 10 minutes or so longer, where we would have found much more to do to while awaiting the time until our return bus was due.

If our chats with other boaters is anything to go by, the vast majority of Brits can find very little of entertainment value on TV these days, and we count ourselves among them. Yesterday evening, after scanning the Sunday Supplement list of progs, we settled on the new Dinosaur thingy on BBC1, followed by Who Do You Think You Are?, with Alan ‘Chatty Man’ Carr.

Now, our wee doggy seldom watches telly, preferring instead to while away the time left before bedtime in sleeping. Just for a change, and just as the Dinosaur prog started, she jumped up onto Sheila’s chair, lay her head on her knee and stared at the screen, utterly enthralled by the actions of these big beasts. We haven’t seen her do that since the last time we watched one of those vet rescue shows, but that didn’t hold her attention quite like the dinosaurs did. Could this be racial memory, or weren’t canines around 80 million years ago?

And, how about Alan Carr’s great-great-grandfather, a deserter no less, with 12 children. Just how did he pull that one off without being discovered? Of course he changed his name, but it still should not have been difficult for the authorities to find him!

Today we’re off the Shackerstone and a pub lunch, and about time too since I missed out on Sunday, again!!

11.15 am at Shackerstone.

I forgot to mention earlier, that the problem with the Alfa was all down to the battery being low on charge. Once Alan charged it up for 24 hours all was tickety boo. So, panic over. I can now look forward to a relaxing pint or three at the Rising Sun this afternoon.

Saturday 17th September.

We set off from Shackerstone yesterday at 8 am and passed under bridge 52, which is when Sheila saw a lightning flash followed by a roll of thunder. Needless to say these were followed rather rapidly by a sudden shower, which obliged us to pull in and shelter. The rain stopped almost as soon as it started, so we continued on our way to Market Bosworth, where we arrived at about 9.15.

I was well aware that the walk into town was mostly uphill but, what the heck, this also meant it was mostly downhill on the way back. So, after fortifying ourselves with a cuppa, we set off on our uphill trek. A couple of hundred yards or so up the steepest part of the hill is a bus stop, where Sheila suggested we might wait for a bus, seeing as how it was now 09.35 and the bus was due at 09.40. Well, we waited until 09.50 and, with no sign of the bus, started walking again. My reaction to the darned thing passing us a few minutes later is not printable.

I have, as I have mentioned in previous blogs – I think! – a pretty lousy memory, especially what certain towns look like, and Market Bosworth is no exception. However, once the walk came back to me, so did much of what the town looks like. As small towns go MB has everything it needs by way of shops, including butcher, baker and greengrocer, not to mention several pubs. It was not until we had completed our shopping and were on the way back, that we realised that the pub we had used on our previous visit, was now being turned into a block of flats. Another one has fallen into the hands of developers.

It’s true to say that I do need the exercise, but I’m afraid Wifey will be doing the walking this morning and, despite it being Sunday tomorrow, I will do without my Sunday pint, unless we decide to move on to Stoke Golding, that is.

Meanwhile, with eight pages already under my belt, I’ll wish you all a pleasant weekend and leave you with this thought, I need a new battery for the car because, having tried starting it yesterday and been faced with another refusal by the recalcitrant lump of metal, Alan will be fitting a new one soon. More expense!!

Cheers everybody.

Dave, Sheila and Rusty.