12 weeks on the cut

[Bill Kennedy]

Chapter 7 – Week 6, River Thames/Regent’s Canal

 

Saturday June 5

The Waiting Game

 

I had a wonderful sleep in until 8.30am. Can’t remember when I last did that. It must have been all the walking yesterday. Decided not to wash or do any house sweeping etc. but just made the bed, breakfasted and headed of for an early morning stroll through Eton The age of some of the buildings is quite unbelievable although only two or three have the exquisite architecture of those of Oxford. Because it is mid term school holidays and the boys were all absent, the village seemed somehow lifeless except for the tourists who began arriving around 10am.

 

The antique shops (which carry a surprising array of overpriced items most of which I wouldn’t give you thank you for) and eateries were beginning to open as we returned from our stroll. We did make a stop at a Blackwell’s bookshop (established over 200years ago) and I bought a small coffee table book on the Thames from the same series as one on Oxford that I bought when we were there. Also indulged in a copy of Jerome K. Jerome’s “Three Men in a Boat” which I thought would be a topical read.

 

Decided to continue on over the bridge for a little retail therapy in Windsor but again, nothing I felt I couldn’t live without. Stopped at Pizza Express for possibly the best pizza I’ve ever had. On the ground floor were eleven tables; at seven of these were families with babies and all the wee ones seemed to be partaking of the Italian fare. Very cosmopolitan children here. We did a little food shopping and returned to the boat for a read and a rest. We felt a little guilty not being out and about sightseeing but somehow it just seemed right to be taking a breather. This weekend marks the end of the school holidays and we know that moorings will be in short supply until they are over.

 

Sunday June 6

Edging towards the Big Smoke

 

As is our new habit we were at the Old Windsor Lock when it opened at 9am and spent our waiting time cleaning insects and tiny winged seeds from the boat. Continued along a magnificent tree lined, no mooring avenue, of the Thames that marks the boundary of Home Park of Windsor Castle.

 

We played a guessing game of what would happen to you if you tried to moor there and played spot the CCTV cameras in the trees. The gate house marking the start of this avenue was built in 1864, the year my great-great grandparents bade a permanent farewell to their families, married and set sail for their big adventure and pursuit of fortune in Australia. It was interesting to see the style of an affluent house of the era. Windsor Castle was flying the flag at half mast to respect the death of Ronald Regan yesterday.

 

Passed Runnymede Island where the Magna Carta was signed. There was no recognition of the event from the river which was a bit disappointing. I’m sure boaters would like to pull up and show there kids a bit of history - perhaps in the future. There is also a memorial to JFK in the area but again, not visible from the river. Then travelled through the riverside area of Staines and began to see the first signs of high density living and an even more popular recreational use of the river. Got our water at Chertsey Lock and Bill did a very starry back and fill to the water point. When I complemented him he asked me if I wanted him to do it again - show-off. He says he swore at the boat a few times and she doesn’t like it so now she does what he wants.

 

We passed through Weybridge, the turnoff to Guildford, and Walton-on-Thames then past Hampton Court. Didn’t call in as it was four o’clock and about to close; in addition I’ve seen it in great detail in ’88 and we both saw it briefly in 2001. We had intended making for Teddington tonight but there was a sign at the lock before that the public moorings at Teddington are closed for 30 weeks for bank repair work, so when we saw a mooring at Kingston-on-Thames we moseyed on in. The approach was interesting as there was a paddle steamer trying to pass us and a slow barge ahead of us and small powered craft and a flotilla of sail weaving in and out of all of the powered vessels. We are moored beside a small public park across a reasonably wide stretch of the river with eateries, pubs, live music and a host of young people on the other side - near enough to join if we want to and to enjoy the music across the river but hopefully far enough away for quiet time tonight.

 

Monday June 7

Waiting for the tide

 

Bill phoned the London Port Authority yesterday to find out the details of making our run on the ebb tide down to Limehouse. Had we gone this morning we would have needed to leave Teddington Lock (about a mile away) at 6am and that meant leaving here about 5.30am. Now this does not exactly fit in with the way my internal clock has reset itself. I am now enjoying waking at a leisurely 7am and being prompted to surface around 8-8.30am after my cup of tea in bed. At least tomorrow we will not have to leave until 6.30 am. Am I in for a rude shock when we return to reality. As I was on a promise for a day at Kew Gardens we decided it was best to stay put here in Kingston-on-Thames for another day and go via land to Kew.

 

I could not persuade Bill to come with me so we went into town and restocked the larder at the Waitrose supermarket (our favourite). He then returned to the boat with the produce while I navigated myself on a bus to Kew. The plan was that Bill would do the e-mail thing at the Hampton-Wick library (you guessed it - closed on Mondays) but fortunately the Kingston library across the bridge was open so the latest news went out. He also managed a visit to the local museum but says we were a little spoiled by the Black Country Museum near Birmingham.

 

An amusing thing happened when I asked an elderly lady where the bus stop was for Kew Gardens (street name not visible so couldn’t get our bearings). She was most obliging then asked us where we were from. When we told her she said “Oh I have a great niece in Brisbane, you might know her”. Here we go, we thought, how small does she think the population of Brisbane is. “She’s a swimmer - her name’s Samantha O’Reilly”. It turns out Sam’s grandma is this lady’s eldest sister. Big village.

 

I enjoyed Kew, especially the bookshop with all the flower books but had to think of my 20kg on the way home and restrain myself. Lusted after a fantastic book entitled “Zen Flowers” with elegant Ikebana type arrangements of flowers but put it back like a good girl. I walked miles for about five hours and took over 100 photos. There was a fabulous photographic exhibition on of photos taken in the gardens. The Major prize winner was of a flower head about to unfurl covered in a transparent mantle with droplets of water trapped inside it with the immature buds. Reminded me very much of a newborn infant in a caul - quite exquisite. I could have bought a limited edition copy for ₤75 but again, refrained.

 

Tuesday June 8

The day we’ve been waiting for

 

We both slept poorly, I think because we both knew it was to be a big day tomorrow and we couldn’t sleep in. I had such trouble getting off to sleep and then we both woke at 4.30am.

 

Needless to say we were at Teddington lock half an hour early at 6.30. At 7am we were joined by a couple, Tricia and Graham who, though English boaters, were travelling into London on their narrowboat for the first time just as we were. In the lock Tricia and I exchanged mobile phone numbers as it is recommended procedure to travel in pairs with mobile connection in case one boat or the other needs help.

 

Once out of Teddington Lock the Thames at high tide was a sight to behold. It crept over towpaths and up village side streets and in Richmond, a row of houses had what looked like carports beneath them but as the Thames was washing against their closed doors we couldn’t be sure if they were meant to be carports or boathouses. At Richmond we passed two floating rafts made out of all manner of flotsam and jetsam, obviously inhabited. Initially I had thought they were barges piled high with river debris.

 

Even at this early stage of our journey we could see evidence of the tide on the ebb and having seen it at low tide the day before at Kew I began thinking we shouldn’t be quite so leisurely about the journey. As we passed Kew I took a snap of the same stretch of river for comparison with the previous day’s photo.

 

Quite early, we passed Brentford where the Grand Union canal joins the Thames and were glad we’d taken the plunge and decided to exit the Thames further downstream at Limehouse from where the Regent’s canal makes a loop back around to the Grand Union.

 

Onward through Chiswick, dodging the skullers, one pair of whom shot along beside us and actually clipped the side of the boat with their oars. Past the Budweiser brewery where already there are signs of the encroachment of residential development on industry. Through Hammersmith with its exquisite 1883 olive green and gold painted Victorian Iron Bridge and the elegantly residentially redeveloped Harrods Furniture Repository.

 

Through Barnes, Fulham, Putney and Wandsworth and to a wider stretch of the river at Battersea where riverside residential development is taking place at a rate I’ve never seen before. The high rises are villages in themselves and spring up in replicated clusters, taking on the appearance of “families” of buildings which like people, are limited in their variation only by the “genetics” of their design - fascinating architecture to study.

 

It was here we smelled the salt in the air for the first time-delicious. Chelsea continued the urban proliferation and we saw the impressive façade of Battersea Power Station, which once powered the underground, just waiting for redevelopment. On through Nine Elms and Pimlico, around the bend and there was Central London. Then our first view of the London Eye downstream, under Lambeth Bridge and past the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben in all their glory. On past the County Hall with the Saatchi gallery and the London Eye on the south bank with Waterloo Pier and the RAF Memorial opposite. Then under Hungerford Bridge and past Cleopatra’s Needle to the left with the Royal Festival Hall across the water.

 

About this time the Thames commenced its right angled turn and the waters became choppy, we think in part due to the run of the tide against the numerous pylons of the bridges. It was rather like Moreton Bay on a windy day and our foredeck was awash a few times - all very exciting. Under Waterloo Bridge we went with views of St Paul’s Cathedral to the north. Then under Blackfriars Road and Railway Bridges and the Millennium Bridge in quick succession. I missed Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre after dashing downstairs to change the camera battery (I had put a new one in at the start of the day but had been snapping so much it was becoming sluggish.). Southwark Bridge, London Bridge, The Tower of London with the entrance to Traitor’s Gate and then the piece de resistance - Tower Bridge.

 

The waters then calmed as we passed the entrance to St Katherine Yacht Haven and the residential warehouses that line the water’s edge at Wapping. Around another bend saw a return of the waves and a fast current. In the distance Canary Wharf as we scanned our map and searched the north bank for the entrance to Limehouse Basin, only guessing where it may be. However we finally saw a partly obscured sign and headed on over through the waves. Now at this point on the outer curve of Limehouse Reach, a fast current crosses the entrance to the very deep lock that marks that leads into the basin.

 

Once in the lock there was much shouting down of instruction about securing the boat from the lock operator who stood on the lock verge 20 feet above us (this is above the sound of two boat engines and water beginning its rush in for the filling of the lock.). Vertical hose covered wires run in recesses in the lock wall and one needs to pass fore and aft ropes behind them then loop once around bollards at either end of the boat and in theory these ropes will rise up the wire as the lock fills and the boat ascends. Except that the hose covering our forward wire had a split in it, creating a groove between hose and wire, in which the rope caught and therefore would not rise. I leant out precariously over the front of the boat and moved the rope up but damnation, it slipped down again. “Never mind”, shouted down the lockkeeper, “just give it a flick as you start to rise”. “That’s all very well Boy-O”, said I under my breath, “but that rope ain’t risin’”. The keeper too had noticed this and stopped the in-flood but I couldn’t budge the rope as the boat had moved back and the rope was taught. I then had to shout to Bill to move the boat forward while I unhooked it again, then we were in business. In came the water in a big rush and we rose quite quickly for such a deep lock When we exited the lock our fellow travellers veered to the right to go up Duckett’s Cut to the Lee Navigation and we turned left to go to Regent’s Canal. I think we were all so overwhelmed by the previous 3 hours that we didn’t have time to think, let alone say goodbye.

 

And then was it back to reality, big time. Back to debris filled canals, graffiti, sad ruins of nineteenth century buildings, razor wire and this time, high rise council flats. We had agreed to alternate the locks but Bill did all the locks after my first three as the gates are terribly heavy and one I just couldn’t move and had to ask a well muscled young bystander for assistance. We chatted with three young Pakistani lads one of whom told me it was the first time he’d seen a boat go through a lock and said to his mates he was going to take a canal boat trip “when I’m ‘er age”, “’an if I’m too old, she’ll be tha winna” (think I worked out the logic of that). His mate meanwhile was offering Bill a “toke”, which Bill says is a puff of marijuana. At another lock Bill had to step over a couple of nubile young wenches in their bikinis, sunning themselves on the lock verge. The locks seem to be a meeting place/water feature/something happening for bored or lonely people and they could be beautified and developed as so much more than that. We finally reached Battlebridge Basin which was reputed to have a water point and moorings at the London Canal Museum. Great, we thought, at the end of this, our longest day so far (and hence the longest epistle), two of our three needs met (you guessed it, it’s pump out time again) and a canal museum to boot. Alas, not to be. The only mooring was occupied by their community boat on which they take youngsters on excursions and the museum closed in half an hour. With a bit of breasting up and maneuvering we managed to make our water hose reach the tap then repaired to a mooring at the pub fortuitously across the basin, for dinner and the night.

 

Wednesday June 9

Little Venice at last

 

We made a leisurely exit from the basin and our mooring by the pub. We had felt quite safe there as they lock the land gates at closing time and the only access to the boat by water. The late exit was deliberate as we knew there was no chance of a pump out at the sailing club up the way until after 9am at least. Of course when we arrived their machine was out of order wasn’t it. The red light was now on so it’s public toilets or bust - literally. Once we reached Camden Locks (the last three in the run for the day) the most amazing transition in the canal took place we saw a quaintly Victorian railing around a lock and numerous litter bins. Then, surprisingly, we came upon the Snowdon Aviary and other exhibits of Regents Park Zoo. On we went through a delightful green cutting with elegant Georgian mansions on both of its high banks with more signs of everyday people caring for the canals.

 

New office blocks overlook the canal and staff recreational areas and later cafes and restaurants open onto its verge. We could sense civilization approaching. Ahead was Maida Hill Tunnel and as we exited Bill told me to look up behind me above the tunnel, there was the restaurant to which we had gone before we left London three years ago. We had arrived in Little Venice.

 

As we slowly cruised down the long avenue with permanently moored and breasted up narrow boats on either side, our first concern was where to find a visitor mooring. This long avenue opens onto a basin with a central birdlife islet. We have since found out that Robert Browning christened this “The Pool”, the name that remains to this day. As we turned left to circle the islet, there was a mooring, under beautiful shade trees, adjacent to Rembrandt Gardens. This delightful area is a haven for people to sit, meet, rest, have lunch by day but is locked at night and thus is beautifully maintained and the flowers are glorious. Beyond it are three elegant Georgian cream stone houses. We couldn’t believe our luck and, looking at the tour boats moored across from us, kept waiting for someone to come and tell us to move on.

 

Dragging ourselves back to the reality of the pump out which I had arranged by phone (the earliest was 5.30pm - but hey, who’s going to argue with the man with the pump), we set off on foot to find the pump-out station and the place where visitor narrow boats should really moor. We found both after discovering there’s a Sainsbury’s and Paddington Station to our left and the service building and canal for real people to our right. After chatting to a man having a beer on his rear deck, we discovered the floating home of the mooring warden, a young man called Tim, who was just leaving his boat. He informed us that where we have moored is a 24 hour area under the jurisdiction of British Waterways and that tomorrow we’d need to join the everyday people in the 14 day canal - shucks.

 

Off then to grocery shop and discovered the most wonderful modern sun-bathed amphitheatre in white stone and bright green grass encircled by a steel and glass new high rise office block, another piece of great architecture. On the way there we were stopped by a chap whose narrow boat was moored across with the tour boats. He asked if we were leaving could they have our mooring. We told him of our plans for 5.30pm and later this afternoon he visited our boat to propose he takes the mooring at 5.30pm and, when we return, we breast up with his boat. Bill had proposed the same thing to me minutes earlier so we were in agreement. So here we are, breasted up at our original mooring, replete with groceries, water and a pump out, recuperating after our big day yesterday and making plans to hit the town tomorrow.

 

Thursday June 10

A Big Day Out

 

Next morning, a chat with our mooring partner revealed that they’d been left a note yesterday by the mooring warden to say that the Pool is an area where breasting up is not permitted. Pleased we didn’t know until today or may have felt the urge to move. Mentioned our red light to him and discussed the frequency of pump outs. He says they do it every seven days as do most boats with two people - we commented that this seemed a longish time and with a twinkle in his eye and a slightly embarrassed look on his face said “There’s a saying on the canal – “if it’s yellow, let it mellow, if it’s brown, flush it down”. So that’s how they do it.

 

We took their place at the mooring as they left at 9am and were at the station by 9.30 when the all day off-peak passes begin. Into Piccadilly on the tube, almost like locals, except for the extensive studying of the Tube map, down Regent Street to the tourist information centre then to a coffee shop to pour over our bag of goodies. The choice was a bit like being a kid in a lolly shop - didn’t quite know what to do first. I persuaded Bill he should see “Les Miserables” once in his life and we went to two of the numerous ticket offices touting half price theatre tickets. The tickets they were offering were only minor reductions and really quite poor seats so we repaired to the box office at the theatre and purchased two full price good seats in the third row dress circle for the evening.

 

We decided then on a trip on The London Eye as we’d missed it last time. There were long queues at the ticket office but straight onto the wheel. What a great view. Now I have to explain at this point that Bill is not a lover of heights and for the first half of the journey sat down with as much of his anatomy in contact with a horizontal surface as possible. When I stood up to walk to the glass and take a photo he threw me a scowl and mouthed “you’re not supposed to stand up”. “Yes you are” I silently and defiantly returned, gesturing at the other passengers in ours and other capsules. As he sat there looking like Rodin’s Thinker, clutching our pamphlet bag, I could see his overwhelming urge to be out of there and on terra firma having a fag. However a few minutes later I was surprised to find him at my elbow at the glass face and enjoying tracing our journey down the Thames and pointing out the landmarks. I think he enjoyed it after all.

 

What next? Off on the tube to an exhibit on life in London in WW11. We saw a film with the most amazing real life footage. I’m sure it was the inspiration for the opening scenes of “Saving Private Ryan”. The 60th anniversary of D Day has been very big and the exhibit was teeming with school girls and their teachers (who I think didn’t realize the film would be quite so graphic). The other exhibits depicted the multitude effects of the war on everyday Londoners and the way people adapted. A walk through diorama of a just bombed department store was impressive.

 

We took our seats at the Odeon, one of seven West End theatres owned by Sir Cameron McIntosh who was knighted in 1996 for services to British Theatre. The show was good with a better second than first half. Jean Valjean and Eponine had wonderful voices with great range and melody. The chap who played Javert had a strong baritone voice but tried so hard to have clear diction that his delivery was rather staccato, more like reciting a poem than singing. Some great talent in the rest of the cast but really I don’t think it was any better than the version I saw in Brisbane. “The Lion King” is playing here and I’d also like to see “The Goat or who is Sylvia” (good reviews) but don’t think I’ll be able to talk Bill into it. He his happy to do the Museums tomorrow (didn’t like to tell him it takes me 2-3 days just to do the V&A). We arrived back at the boat after 11pm, exhausted and happy, for a last sleep at our beautiful mooring which we have stretched to 36hrs, hoping we won’t be fined. No letter under the door so we’ll join the multitude in Regent’s Canal the morning.

 

Friday June 11

The V&A

 

After a morning of essential chores we bade a reluctant goodbye to our mooring at Rembrandt Gardens and moved the boat into the first single mooring in Regent’s Canal that we could find, taking on water at the service point on the way. After securing the ropes we glanced across the canal and noticed we were opposite a canalside pub which means noise until 11pm. However the deed was done and to go back and stay in The Pool may have meant a ₤25/day fine.

 

Now we are much further from Paddington Station and probably closer to Warwick Avenue Station though it’s a longer walk to that station than our previous train access and we need to change trains at Paddington to go to Piccadilly. However vive la difference.

 

The V&A was as wonderful as ever and we spent until early afternoon there. I thought, being Friday, we’d better do something about tickets for Lion King which we’d been unable to do in Sydney on our way out of Australia. I’d left it to Bill to decide if we went and after an earlier humorous interchange about direction, by way of apology he said “Alright, I’ll go to Lion King with you then”. Yes. - Win. We tubed it back to Piccadilly, thinking it was playing there, only to discover the theatre was the Lyceum at Covent Garden. I had the brilliant idea of walking to Covent Garden – stupid in the heat. Finally arrived after asking directions of about twenty people, including a non English speaking French woman, only to find very little in the way of seating left for Fri/Sat. Sunday is out as guests are coming and no show on Mondays. We finally settled on some K row dress circle seats for Tuesday - hope they’re OK. This, of course means we’ll be in London for a total of six days - fantastic.

 

As we were then in Covent Garden we took a breather for coffee (Bill refused to go any further until he’d had one) then had an interesting wander through the Transport Museum for an hour or so. The displays on the digging of the tube were fascinating. It is such an amazing system that moves so many people a day. London would be paralysed without it and I’m sure the powers that be have grave concerns about its vulnerability to terrorism, especially after Spain’s experience.

 

 

Progress This week Distance (miles) 52.5 Locks 20

Total Distance (miles) 446 Locks 334

 

The journey continues.....