Hawkesbury Junction to Hillmorton
Sunday 4th August
No sooner had we arrived at Hawkesbury Junction yesterday,
than we gulped down a quick cup of coffee and set of for the local shop for the
paper.
It was a bright morning, albeit a wee bit windy and it
promised to stay warm and sunny. Indeed it became rather humid later in the
afternoon, so all the doors and windows were thrown open to let in some air.
Up by the junction and facing the pound that leads to the
stop lock and the North Oxford canal is The Greyhound pub, which we’ll sit
outside at lunchtime today. Apart from that innocent pastime we’ll probably
take a walk along the towpath and then settle down to a relaxing afternoon.
We haven’t made our minds up as to what we’ll do tomorrow.
The initial plan was to go down the Oxford, but we might just take the bus into
Coventry instead. But first we have to find the bus timetable.
Thursday 8th August
Due to the erroneous weather forecast on Sunday, telling us
to expect rain on Monday, we stayed put and chilled out for the day. Had we
known they were wrong we would probably have moved on and down the North Oxford,
however the rain turned up too late in the day for us to move.
Anyway, come Tuesday morning, with the weather fine we left
early, topped up with water and then after passing through the stop lock to the
North Oxford, we travelled the six miles to Bridge 26. We had intended going
through to Newbold but, as there were already a couple of boats at the bridge
we decided to stop.
Now, Bridge 26 is interesting from the point of view of
mooring there for the winter. There’s a transmission tower a short distance
away, so no problems with the Internet. There’s also good reception on the TV
and, most importantly there’s a lay-bye on the road above the bridge. Also,
about two miles away there’s the village of Brinklow, handy for emergency
supplies during a bad snap of snowy weather. On top of all that, a coal and
fuel barge passes through on a fairly regular basis.
The only real problem that we can see, could be the lack of
company; if nobody else moors up there then we’d probably go cabin crazy after
a few weeks. Still, it is something to think about. On the down side, of
course, is the fact that we would have to run the engine for at least four
hours per day, thus using a great deal of diesel.
Yesterday, having enjoyed a peaceful day at Bridge 26, we
tootled along to Newbold and picked up a few bits and pieces at the local
Co-op. However, our main reason for stopping here is to take the bus into
Rugby. Now, although we have stopped a wee bit further along and shopped at the
out-of-town stores, we’ve never been into Rugby itself. Hopefully there are
some decent shops in town but, if not, then we’ll stop at the usual place again
and walk to whatever that superstore is. I’m not sure if it’s a Tesco or
Sainsbury, but that’s what we’ll do.
Tomorrow, who knows where we’ll be?
This damned WiFi unit! This morning I switched it on and
downloaded my emails and then after writing a few paragraphs for the blog, I
noticed that reception had completely dropped. Great, I thought but, not to be
put off, I switched the unit off and then on again and, hey presto, we’re back
on line. This is not the first time either, so I guess I’ll have to pull it
apart and give the SIM a clean. Hopefully that will solve the problem.
Sunday 11th August
On Saturday morning we moved on to Bridge 66 to Hillmorton,
filled up with water and then passed through the three locks and moored up for
the weekend. The Old Royal Oak pub is about ¾ mile along the canal, at bridge
73; as is the nearest chandlery; and, having walked back from there yesterday
afternoon it seemed more like 1½ miles.
I say we walked back from there, because our old friends
from Keksy’s Farm, Bill and Babs, who passed us a couple of days ago, stopped
by again yesterday and, after catching up with all the gossip, gave us a lift
to the chandlery, where we bought a few bits and pieces. It seems they have a
problem with their engine, which is why they came back this way, heading for a
boatyard for repairs.
Tomorrow morning, all being well with the weather, we’ll
head off to Braunston. Whilst we did manage to get most of what we needed
yesterday, there’s still the matter of some ‘soft’ 12mm rope, which we need for
the top of the boat.
Also by bridge 73 is Hillmorton Wharf Marina and, having
asked the chandlery boss about it, we now have a card with their details, so I
can check them out online. This would be an ideal spot for permanent moorings
and, if they take residential boaters and they are not too expensive, and, if
they have any vacancies, we might be in luck.
Monday 12th August
Well, it looks like we’re back to a ‘normal’ summer, cloudy
and dismal. But, at least it’s not stifling and muggy.
Yesterday was fun! Having walked back from the Royal Oak pub
(aka The Hungry Horse) on Saturday afternoon and liking the look of the place,
we decided to tramp the ¾ of a mile along the towpath yesterday. (The Nicholson
Guide says ½ a mile, by which they mean ½ a country mile!)
Since we were pretty early and the pub had yet to fill up
with hungry horses, we had no difficulty in ordering our drinks and crisps.
However, this was not the case when I walked up to the bar for my second pint.
The Royal Oak is huge by any standards, but it does not have
a very long bar. At one end of the bar; about shoulder width of a broad
shouldered man; is a vertical barrier which, I assumed, was for taking food
orders. How wrong can you be? At the first signs of family groups arriving,
every member of staff congregated at that end of the bar and, when I went up
for my second pint I was ‘ordered’ to get in the queue.
(I wondered why the guy in front of me frowned at the girl
behind the bar. Obviously he had been told to get in the queue if he wanted
anything further. Hopefully he walked out after his drink.)
The whole length of the rest of the bar stood empty. Not one
member of staff stood at that part of the bar. Instead, they each took orders,
pulled up the pints, or food, or whatever, and then, if the nearest till wasn’t
available, they would walk along the bar to another till. How stupid can you
be? Of course, there was no sign of the manager!
This reminded me of the pub at Weeping Cross where, a couple
of years ago the same thing happened. On both occasions we walked out. Some
pubs seem to think that their paying customers are cattle, all in line ready to
be milked. Yeah, milked of money! They are not banks and they are not Post
Offices. They are supposed to be selling pleasure and enjoyment, not looking
upon the paying public as a bottomless pit of money, for which they only have
to put them in a queue in order to reap rich rewards.
Oh well, that’s another one to avoid!
Well, we’re off to Braunston this morning. From past
experience of the place, we won’t have telephone or Internet access, not unless
a new transmission tower has been erected since.
So, on that happy note I’ll post this blog.
Cheers me dears and have a good week.
Dave, Sheila and Rusty.
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