The photo post

There were some lovely permanent moorings here

The water level was quite low in this pound as can be seen  by the marks on the side of the canal

David is so far above me ...

See what I mean?

A very lovely lock cottage

It's quite a long way down over the gates

That teal thing is the offending breadboard that, all by itself, knocked the Nicholson's guide into the cut ...

This one is for our dear friend, Derek. Your namesake sits in a lovely position, DAW, with the beautiful hills in the background.

Our mooring for Wednesday and Thursday nights - beautiful

This young guy was behind us - moored at the same time. He sat out on the towpath on Wednesday night and played his squeezebox. The boats across the canal are on permanent moorings. Lovely!

The flag is up, tea is being drunk - I am sitting on my footstool, in case you were wondering

Looks pretty cool, we reckon.

On our walk yesterday to Great Seabrook, we walked up two of the Seabrook locks ...

and crossed this swing bridge ...

and walked along a public path through to the village.

On the way back, David rested his poorly foot on a well-placed bench.

Isn't that peaceful?

And just as peaceful looking ahead of us

This mum and her ducklings were regular visitors over the time we we moored. When we fed them a scarily large fish followed along and gulped bread off the surface of the canal. At first I thought he was after the ducklings - it was a he, of course, I could tell by his stalking nature ...

Leighton Buzzard to Tring Reservoirs

Wednesday was a mixed bag: the weather was lovely and improved steadily throughout the day. We moored at Little Seabrook between the first and second locks in the sunshine. David prepared the veges for a stir fry that I cooked. I planted out the lettuces, basil, bush tomatoes and spring onions, and sowed the rocket seeds – I did have to find stones later to weigh down the pots in case of wind – so stones are on top rather than at the bottom ... The top of the boat cannot hold any more pots without them getting in the way of ropes.

So Wednesday ended well. It started well at Leighton Buzzard as we got water and chatted with a couple of sets of boaters before heading off towards Grove Lock and the marina.

The cruising was pleasant, peaceful and the countryside is just lovely. We managed to see but not photograph the Whipsnade Lion on the hills. I remember seeing that with Daphne way back in 1988 and we saw it with Tim and Kirsty in 1990 when we boated towards Slapton. 

We saw no boats on the move, but quite a few moored up – most of them looked like liveaboards. It's the roofs used as storage lockers that is a bit of a giveaway. As we approached Grove Lock there was a line of moored boats, two of whom were breasted up with the outer one’s skipper untying and heading off when we were within a couple of boat lengths of him. He saw us but, as he is a fuel boat and therefore much more important than us, he just pulled out and, even though I was in tickover he was going much, much slower. I held my line and got quite close to him; at which point he yelled back to me asking if I was impatient, and that he hadn’t said I could pass so I should get back. This with much waving of arms and gesticulating.

Naturally I pulled back, as I am nothing if not biddable ;-) What was hilarious was that having pulled out in front of us and asking if I was impatient he pulled over  about 200 yards further on to meet up with the oil truck – what is it with some commercial boat skippers? Who was the impatient one? As we had approached the moored boats and saw him we had decided we would buy our fuel from him – supporting waterways businesses and all that. But that did not happen – we have no idea what his price was compared to the price at Grove Marina, and we don’t care. 

I have since been told though that trading boats operate by legitimately different rules than other boaters. Is that true? Anyone?

This is the endlessly patient skipper's boat. He moors it alongside a similar coloured boat called Beverley

We moored up for lunch across the cut from some farm buildings just after a lock. 

 

Cows inside

Cows outside

I made BLATs on french bread and took the bread board out to throw the crumbs in the canal. As I waved it around distributing crumbs for the local birdlife, I knocked the Nicholson’s canal guide off the back of the boat. AAARRRGGGHHH!!! Surprisingly it didn’t immediately sink. I tried to reach it with the tongs – arms too short, David tried – same problem. Fortunately we had delayed attaching the new broom handle as a flag pole to the swan’s neck so I used it to scoop the book out of the water. Phew! It has all of the info in it provided to us by Jaq and Les about good mooring places and water points on the Thames, so losing it would have been a pain in the rectum!

Rescue has been affected

Over the course of the afternoon it dried in the sunshine, and while not as good as new, it is still serviceable but much fatter, as it the way with books that have been dunked and dried.

Yesterday we decided to stay put. Where we moored after the first of the Seabrook locks is beautiful and peaceful – we could hear the trains over in the distance, but the noise barely intruded. We knew I was still poorly really – one sure symptom is that I haven’t drunk any chardonnay for days! That does count as serious, doesn’t it? Also I’ve been off my food a bit. Couldn’t face eating the pork stir-fry I cooked the night before, so had dessert instead – well, Garfield does say to eat it first, given that life is uncertain. Last year we bought a pack of meringues and left them with Tim and Marta who gave them back to us when we were up there. I decided that unless these things were going to travel between the boat and Dalry on an annual basis, we needed to eat them. So one each crushed with strawberries and whipped cream – a sort of deconstructed eton mess. That has only just occurred to me, so don’t get any fancy schmancy ideas about the culinary arts in play on THIS boat.

So yesterday was a blobbing day for me after I’d sorted two things that had been annoying me,  one I'd been meaning to do since we were in Stoke on Trent last year and the last since we arrived back onboard. One was cleaning off the stains on the panels with Waka Huia’s name on - they are cream and marks show up. So off they came. The second was a bit of DIY using my fab battery drill (which remarkably is still charged up – how does that happen? Maybe boats should have lithium batteries that hold their charge when not in use). That was putting up the flag for NZ ships not in home waters – I am fairly sure I have the right one because Tony from nb Holderness told me and he should know as a seafaring man.

We purchased a wooden broom handle in Leighton Buzzard (already used to rescue Nicholson’s guide – NOT TO SELF: buy another for rescue duty) for use as flagpole. So I drilled two holes in it to slot cable ties through for attaching the flag, and two holes at right angles to the flag holes to cable tie the pole to the swan’s neck. David acted as the vice making sure the pole didn’t slip as I drilled. Cable ties poked through and on went the flag and on went the pole.

The penultimate thing was to attach stick-on plate hanger jobbies to the back of two plates (purchased with a number of others at the outlet shop at S-o-T last year) so they could be set out to dry in the cratch before hanging up, one in the galley and one in the saloon.  And the final task was to stick back on some of the pieces of paua on to the mirror frame the lovely Michelle made for me and hang it on the saloon wall. It looks really cool!

After that, I did blob – I read for ages sitting in the cratch in the sunshine. David spent a few hours downloading OS maps on to various devices, happy as a pig in muck. We went out for a short slow walk up the next two locks and through a woods to Great Seabrook later as his plantar fasciitis heel has to be treated with care. Back for nibbles on the towpath. The nibbles turned out to be dinner. Shock horror – David had a glass of wine and I didn’t. See, I told you I’m poorly still!

This morning we played a waiting game with the weather – it rained lightly, then reduced to  spitting, and then cleared. But Lesley told me it hailed, rained and thundered in Chatham, Kent. 

As the day has gone on the sun has got warmer and brighter. And now we have fetched up by the Tring reservoirs above the bottom Marston lock. It is beautiful.

An entertaining morning's boating tho with some loud marital discord before one lock not long after we set off. Needless to say all is well now and was shortly afterwards, but in the meantime I discovered that cable ties are no match for tree branches. The flag and pole came off, dear readers, as I went through the trees on the offside. I'd watched out for the solar panels but the flag is so new as an accoutrement that I had neglected to worry about it. And PING - off it came.

However, long story short for a change, the guy who we helped coming down the lock after our ascent, went across in his boat below the lock and used our boat hook to scoop it up and bring it back to me. I was delighted to see that the broom handle was intact - it was only the cable ties that popped. The flag is back on, new cable ties and all. It has dried out and looks cool. I am going to get some large jubilee clips to encompass the broom handle and the swan's neck, to give more power to the cable ties.

A Toyota sized BUGGER

But wait, there's happiness - flag rescued and broomstick intact - why am I surprised? Witches' broomsticks are infallible!

 

Flag restored

The Whit Lio pub (defunct and boarded up) in the background behind the bottom Marsworth lock

Moored with pins for the first time this season, but the mooring was too lovely to pass up. Beside the bank from which David has taken this photo is one of the Tring reservoirs - beautiful!

While I've been editing this post and sorting out the photo post that follows, David has been resting his foot. I just went down to the saloon to ask if he wants a medicinal wine - he's asleep! Headphones on, TV going but he's out to it.

You will be pleased to know that I am recovered though - I am imbibing my first glass of chardonnay for several days! YAY!!! 

There are lots of photos for the last few days, so to limit the length of this post, I will put the rest of them in a separate post - it'll be there shortly!

Soulbury to Leighton Buzzard

On Monday we left Soulbury visitor moorings and moved just a few yards to the water point to refill the tank. Then off up the locks and on to Wyvern Shipping to get a pump out. There was marital discord at the Leighton Lock because David was sure that Wyvern was after Grove Lock and rather than Leighton Lock, and I was sure it wasn’t. He was relying on his memory of our 1990 trip and I relied on the Memory Map software. The latter was correct …

This is Leighton Lock and I am coming into it ...

... without touching the sides

 

At first the boat stays on the LHS ...

... but mysteriously moves to the RHS, even though David opened the LHS ground paddle gently first

We moved on to Leighton Buzzard and moored up on the visitor moorings (14 day) just after the shoppers’ moorings (2 hours). We have the last spot before the bridge which isn’t especially quiet but it’s fine. Quite a lot of foot traffic but as it’s been wet and windy that has probably been more limited than usual.

It’s very convenient, probably too convenient, being close to Tescos, Homebase and Aldi. But I have managed to buy some lettuce plants at Homebase – they look rather scrappy though so hopefully they will revive on being cared for. 

NZers will understand why I had to get these two photos - perhaps Dotcom could ask for replicas to be made for his place

The police should have gone in this way!

Walking into the town yesterday brought back lots of memories as I used to come here with Daphne. However, as is always the case, when you’re there with someone who lives close by, you don’t see the touristy interesting things. This time, we did see the wonderful memorial sculpture to Leighton Buzzard including the Vimy Vickers plane – one thing that interested me was the names that the town has had since the 11^th century. I have always wondered why it was called Leighton Buzzard, after all Buzzard is a strange part name for a town. But did I write them down in the fine tradition of Les from nb Valerie, Tom from nb Waiouru, and Tony from nb Holderness? You bet your life I didn’t!

A replica Vimy Vickers (or is it Vickers Vimy?) prop in the centre of this memorial

And here are a couple of the town names - courtesy of David's diligence though

 

The descriptive plaque at the bottom of the High St. Most of the shops visible in this photo are closed.

We were going to go to the Wetherspoons pub (The Swan) for lunch but when we went in it was filled with pre-schoolers … Not a happening thing for me – I don’t do kids who don’t know and adhere to the restaurant rules. Kirsty and Tim can still recite them (not that we ask them to now, mind) – you have to eat what you chose, you can only go to the toilet once, and you mustn’t disturb other diners. Simple, because the latter two mean no roaming around and no loud voices. But a number of parents think family friendly in a description of a restaurant means their kids can tear around and make as much noise as they want.

So we went over to Pizza Express and had a lovely peaceful lunch there. Then a bit of shopping at one of those fabulous hardware shops for the things that we hadn’t been able to get in Fenny Stratford plus a broom handle to put up the NZ ensign on the swan’s neck. I am not even concerned if NZ loses the cricket match which is underway. I’ll just tell people it’s the Australian flag …

In the late arvo the wind came up and the rain came down hard. I kept hearing what sounded like something rolling across the roof of the boat. Clearly my ears were not hearing clearly – as I was about to go out and investigate, David told me it was ducks and geese pecking weed off the hull at the waterline. Doh! I’d rather like them to do a thorough job of it and do some duck diving to accomplish that, please.

This morning David told me he wanted me to go to the Dr today as he thought my cough wasn’t getting better. I know I am feeling better and I am not coughing as much – Day and Night Nurse are excellent. They may just mask the symptoms, but they are giving my throat and diaphragm a rest from the coughing.

I wrote last year about the NHS’s wonderful health-line service, accessed by dialling 111. It was exemplary again today, apart from the clinician giving me stick about the cricket … As there isn’t a walk-in centre in Leighton Buzzard, he gave me the phone numbers of the medical practices here. One of them is very close to the moorings, so I walked over there. In a trice, I was registered as a temporary patient and an appointment was made for me in 40 minutes' time to see a nurse and be checked out. That is pretty good, I reckon.

I am a project manager, so that 40 minutes had to be made use of. Therefore  I scooted back to Homebase (tomato plant in a hanging basket, a set of metal files and some better looking lettuce plants) and into Tescos (Knorr stock cubes) and back to the boat to offload them all before heading back to the surgery. I was seen by a very lovely nurse – chest is clear, the phlegm is at my throat, no need for David to worry but every need for him to keep looking after me – well, that’s what I told him!

Then into town for a haircut as it’s too long to wait until we see Michelle and Taffy. I thought £9.50 was a very reasonable price to pay and I paid £12 – I did try to pay her the £2 with an NZ $2 coin, but rectified that.

Since then, we have cut chain into lengths of 10 links each and David is now affixing them to the solar panels and brackets. There is a lot of rattling going on above my head. He had made a sort of solar panel daisy chain the other day but it looked cumbersome and crass. 

David tells me a boat bitch's life is tough, on his knees on the roof ...

The sun has come out and the solar panels are doing their job. It’s windy tho and we will stay here until tomorrow morning now. For dinner tonight I have promised David a nectarine and cheese salad (goat’s cheese for me, cheddar for him) with new potatoes. He waited expectantly before asking about protein … Bad luck, buddy!

Nostalgia and a recommendation

 

Moored above Stoke Hammond lock yesterday while I was poorly

From the side hatch at Stoke Hammond

Well, today has been wonderful. 

My Dad's jersey, David's Dad's sheepskin hat and leather gloves - and when I got outside it wasn't that cold, but I couldn't remove the hat or there would have been a severe case of hat head! I have to say, I look a lot like my Dad ...

Although the weather was a bit suspect this morning, we decided to move on to Soulbury so we could go to The Boot for lunch and visit my Aunt Daphne’s old semi-detached house. It was a short trip, and we first filled with water - moving in front of a boat that was moored on the water point, ostensibly filling with water - they had the hose attached but the tap was turned off ... Once we'd filled, having removed their hose, we pulled back to the two day moorings. Then we showered and cleaned ourselves up and off we set on foot into Soulbury. Jaq and Les Biggs have posted about Soulbury recently (check it out on the nb Valerie blog), and theirs was informative about the village.
 

One of the views on the walk from the three locks up to Soulbury

On the bridge over the railway and the bypass is this sign - I am not sure why it says Caution though.

 

This way to the site of the Great Train Robbery

Coming back to make sure David doesn't trip in the hole in the bridge's footpath

I knew that the guys who owned the other part of the semidetached house had bought Daphne's house to create a granny cottage downstairs for Simon’s mother and to add the upstairs rooms (3 bedrooms) to their home.

We went to see them first, thinking that it was possible they would be going out on a Sunday afternoon. Simon and James were home with their sons, were very welcoming and happily showed us around. Isobel, Simon’s mother arrived back from the garden centre and was also happy that we had come to visit and to see what had become of Daphne’s beloved house.

The granny cottage and amalgamation of Daphne’s home into Simon and James’s place have been beautifully done.

Daphne's house used to be the RHS of this home - I am standing in front of her early addition: the front porch. She never used the original front porch apart from as a place to store junk.

Isobel invited us for coffee after our lunch at the Boot, so on through the village we went admiring the wonderful gardens on the way. The Boot did not disappoint in any way.

I first went there with my mum and Daphne back in 1988, and again in ’90 with David and the kids, and on a few occasions since – Melita and I took Daphne for lunch there one day, and the last occasion I was there was for the wake after Daphne’s funeral back in 2007.

 Fresh bread before the starters, and a bottle of Argentinian viognier

Smoked haddock on mash and fresh steamed veges

Roast beef, yorkshire, roast potatoes, horseradish

 

Two of the lovely waitresses

All in all, a lovely pub

 

Today the ambience**, the food and the service were lovely. Some of the touches that make such a difference and are missing from many restaurants now are still in place at The Boot. Handcut slices of fresh baked bread are complementary and the staff come and ask if you’d like more. When they come to ask if everything is OK, it’s not just for form’s sake, but includes a suggestion/question re supplying more gravy, more bread. I couldn’t finish my roast beef and roast potatoes, so they were packaged up (with more gravy) for me to carry away. That wasn’t an issue for David as he’d scoffed all of his smoked haddock with a yummy sauce on mash …

If you are coming through Soulbury on your boat or by car, we would recommend the pub extremely highly. 10 out of 10, from both of us. It’s a mile’s walk from the 3 locks, and it is worth it.

** The music was playing softly and was melodic – chosen for the likely taste of the patrons, not the waiting staff.

So fully replete, we went to the churchyard to see Daphne’s grave. My cousin had told me that Daphne didn’t want a headstone, and a couple of years ago the vicar organised a simple wooden cross to mark the grave as he couldn’t find any family to ask. Seeing the cross today made me sad. Daphne didn’t have any Christian belief but she did participate in church things because it was the hub of the community, and that was extremely important to her. 

At Daphne's grave

We then called in to see Isobel for tea (and yummy little chocolate rolls. Note self: FIND THEM at the next supermarket.)

We had already looked through the cottage before lunch but Isobel showed us more of the touches that were important to her. It was lovely to discover that Isobel collects owls, as did Daphne, she loves to garden, as did Daphne and she has managed to salvage a number of Daphne's roses, shrubs and old fashioned apple trees. She and Simon removed a giant wodge of brambles that had taken over part of the back garden as Daphne got past keeping it in trim, and they have exposed the end of the garden that looks out on to field behind.

The old apple tree and the field beyond

Two of Daphne's roses beyond the new terrace

The whole effect of the changes to the house and joining up of the gardens is beautiful and I am sure that Daphne would be pleased to see it all looking so loved and cared for.

Isobel kindly drove us back down to the three locks and came to look around the boat. We have each other’s contact details and will stay in touch.

We are moored below the three locks for the evening - too tired to move further today!