Saturday 8 September 2018

Who is guilty? Me, I'm afraid ...


The apartment building we were moored across from in Nottingham

I can't remember which day we left Nottingham, (Monday I think) but I do know that David and I had made a repeat trip to the Skechers shop to buy another couple of pairs each. They are cheaper than in NZ by a country mile. (A bit like Castillo Blue cheese which in NZ costs about $8 for a half round pack, and here it costs £1.50. If I was allowed to bring cheese back into NZ, I would fill one suitcase with it ...)
We had a bite to eat in the Pret a Manger and saw this sign across the road. Must have been the site of the former poultry market area, I think
We managed to find our way back to the river on a quieter route than we had gone into the city centre - one thing that being on the cut and river results in for us is a loss of tolerance for traffic and city noises. Castle Gate in Nottingham is a quiet, pedestrian street that goes from the city centre to the castle (strange that, given its name), but you do have to cross a dual carriageway, and then the way down to the river goes past Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem, one of the oldest pubs in England.

The publican was outside sweeping up leaves and (mainly) cigarette butts and was very chatty and helpful. So inside we went for a look around.
The publican can be seen sweeping to the left of the red bin - he explained to us that the pub and the caves near it were the stopping off point for crusaders from the north on their way to Kent to go and (my words, not his) spread the scourge of one brand of monotheism in places that already had their own ... He said (his words, not mine) that there were over 90 caves that were reserved as accommodation for crusaders.

David crossing the road with shopping bags - crossing on his own, so it's a good thing Julia wasn't there! The publican can be seen again, still sweeping.

Says it all.

In the bar downstairs, the white walls and roof are part of the caves
In the dining room upstairs
There must be a further storey abouve where we were. This is the view upwards from the entrance to the dining room.
Partly outside and partly in the caves

That did delay our return to the boat, so M&J were already putting up their fenders and untying ropes by the time we got back. So it was a hurried preparation for departure - didn't want to be left behind!
We saw this lovely boat moored on the outskirts of Nottingham - it is beautifully maintained.
A stop at Beeston to get water, empty loos; and then after the lock, a stop to buy diesel. While I was filling with water, David had walked down to find out exactly where I had to pull in. It was still a bit confusing, but we did it, and I am really glad it wasn't me jumping off with the rope as the pontoon was extremely bouncy. We also bought a 15m rope and 4 magnums - David and I ate ours immediately but put two for M&J into the freezer for a surprise treat.

We'd been going to moor at Trent Lock, but Julia walked from Cranfleet Lock to check out the situation and came back to tell David, who had walked too after he'd cleaned up at the lock (that is boater talk for closing gates and dropping paddles) to come back and tell Mick and me that we should moor up where we were as there were no rings left at Trent Lock. So a new mooring spot for us all between Cranfleet Lock and the first bridge, just after the long term moorings. Very pleasant. I cannot remember what we had for dinner that night or where we ate it, but I am sure it was a shared meal. M&J will be consulted and I am sure they will know.

Just so you know there is livestock in the fields ... I thought this little one was very attractive.

At Cranfleet mooring we had come up with a plan on how to use up/enjoy/schedule/organise the remaining days before we have to be back at Foxton, and it looks like this:



Of course it has already been amended, and amended back and then amended again. But if you don't plan then you don't have a baseline to make sure everything fits in ...

David and I needed water, M&J needed groceries (they don't have a freezer, poor darlings), so they headed for Long Eaton via boat (to pontoons at Trent Lock) and then by bike and on foot. We stayed put until they were back on board and I put the first coat of dark blue  topcoat on the runnels beside the cream topcoat. (Looks good, but there's another coat to do and the weather has been changeable since then.) We then headed to the services beside Sawley Lock and saw Dave and his wife who run the fabulous Lock-keeper's Rest micro-pub that I have blogged about previously. I did tell them that 3 of the four of us had been keen to stay on so we could visit again on Thursday, but that one (pointing discreetly at DMcD) had blanked that idea. On leaving the water point/pontoon, I followed the instructions on the noticeboard and headed upstream to the buoys strung across the river, then went to turn. For the first time ever, I have been audibly shouted and sworn at by a fisherman - he used a phrase I often used with the acronym FFS, but he didn't speak in acronyms. He hadn't heard our boat coming and I hadn't seen his lines (invisible filaments) or him (hidden by a tree), so he had to reel in quickly - still had time to swear though. I did apologise, but he wasn't up to accepting apologies ...

We then headed off down the Soar - what a lovely river it is.

Our first lock was a tad eventful. David and I were in front as Mick and Julia had a bit of a dosy-do movement when leaving the pontoon at Trent Lock as they let another boat move on to it as they were leaving. When David and I approached Ratcliffe Lock there was a yoghurt pot tied up right by the lock entrance with the stern of the boat sticking out in direct line of the lock entrance. See the picture:
I managed to get around him to let David off on the left, instead of the right, and suggested that the guy had better move as there was a steel 70 foot boat approaching and without intending to, he'd crush him given he was across the lock opening. His response was to start untying rapidly but he told me he'd f***ing punch anyone who crushed his boat. He boated off in the direction of away quite quickly though, so he never got to witness Julia with a swinging windlass in her hand ...
Not an elegant drawing, but you get the picture: said yoghurt pot was in a stupid place and in jeopardy ... Given there was about 50 metres of available bollards for the men to tie up to away from the lock mouth, his threats were a bit facile.

We had planned a BBQ for dinner and you can moor at the Kegworth Shallow Lock which is a flood lock and left open unless there's a flood (and I think that perhaps it's closed during winter months). An ideal mooring for a BBQ as it comes complete with BBQ area and deck while leaving a clear area for walkers and dogs.

Ideal BBQ area, with BBQ chef and improvised dog barriers (barriers to stop dogs getting to the BBQ, not barriers made of dogs, cos that would just be silly, wouldn't it?) Two barriers are made from pieces of the ladder/plank that we donated to Mick and Julia - David didn't want them, so they had to go. It was either give them to M&J, or put them in the recycling.

I know David was checking out something important but I am not sure what. Julia was avoiding having her face showing and Mick was cooking. It was a two hour period of intense Atkins diet - meat, meat and more meat, i.e. burgers from Braunston (yay for a freezer), pork spare ribs (the main focus of the J&M shopping trip to Long Eaton), Braunston sausages (see, it pays to have a freezer), and fillet steak from the Braunston Butchers (freezer again). We had buns with the burgers and bread with the sausages, but the only veges were the mushrooms that Julia cooked inside and the onions I fried. And somehow, our hearts are still beating ...

The following day we were going to stop at some lovely moorings (apparently ...) past the Otter pub which is after Kegworth Deep Lock (now labelled Kegworth New Lock), but other boats had scrounged them. 
This is Kegworth New Lock - the old one to its right was known as Kegworth Deep, so the old name has stuck to the new one.
This is one of the boats that was in the position we wanted. I include it here because of our friends Dean and Phaedra in Oxford NZ
So we moved on to Zouch to have lemonade scones, cream and strawberry jam for brunch. I'd decided a change from cheese scones was required, and used Anabel Langbein's recipe. As she mentions using plain or gluten free flour, I sent the recipe to Jaq Biggs before starting cooking prior to departure.

We moved on then to Loughborough, but at Bishop Meadow Lock Mick got heaps of reeds around the prop and removed them.

A foot and some reeds - I am sure you can tell the difference

The lovely house that's for sale by Bishop Meadow Lock

He hoiked out some more from the lock and I carried on doing so, but then I committed the crime of which my guilt is absolutely clear - I left the boat pole (Mick's) against the fence while I carried the reeds and tossed them over the fence. And then I left it there while I got back on the boat and moved to the water point; then I left it there while we filled with water, and then I still left it there while I took photos of the lovely house that is for sale, and then I continued to leave it there while I untied and got back on the boat to cruise away.

Mick was looking for it yesterday when we were in the lock at Barrow on Soar - similar clearing operation in the lock required. On the journey here they worked out where they had last seen it and determined that I was the guilty party. No point in going to trial - I pled out: Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa ...

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