12 weeks on the cut

[Bill Kennedy]

Chapter 10 – Week 9, StratfordCanal/Cotswolds/River Avon

 

Saturday June 26

Patience with the Ancient

 

After Lowsonford and our self indulgent interlude at the Fleur-de-Lys last night, we woke to an overcast day with forebodings of rain, and headed out on our way to Stratford on Avon. The guide book said this would be some of the prettiest English countryside we’d see, and so it was, with farmlands and their big houses, the last vestiges of the Forest of Arden and Yarningale Common. The locks and their barrel roofed cottages were built around 1805 and this area was the first to be made navigable when the waterways took on their new recreational purpose after the war.

 

We travelled over three aqueducts, the largest of which, Edstone Aqueduct, spanned a river, a road and two railway lines. Rather like Poncysyllte in Wales though not as grand. The smallest aqueduct was hidden in the wood in Yarningale Common, over a stream and by a charming lock cottage and farm - such a delightful surprise to come upon it. There were ancient tiny bridges over farm access roads, just wide enough for a car over and a boat under. Many of the bridges were of the quaint iron type, split in the middle like a drawbridge so the rope to the horse could pass through without having to undo its harness. Others were of brick and stone and so narrow there were only inches either side of the boat. Where a bridge spanned the canal as we left a lock, it was often so low that Bill had to duck to avoid hitting his head.

 

The locks themselves were a proportionate miniaturization of their big more modern brothers on the Grand Union, but much older and frailer, and much patched and repaired. These were the equivalent of the frail elderly in the human world. Their paddle mechanisms rattled, their chambers leaked, they filled slowly and you had to make allowances for them - wait patiently for them to empty, leave paddles up during filling that you would normally close to compensate for the leaks, try not to bump into their edges and move their old lumbering gates slowly and only when they were ready. I loved it all and chose to walk the few miles (thinking also of last night’s venison pie) and do the seven locks.

 

At Wooten Wawen we went to look at an old mill that had been converted to a craft centre and its stables into studios and individual shops. It was all beautifully presented but nothing I fancied would fit in the suitcase. From the farm shop we did buy a quiche which, when popped in the oven, served nicely for lunch. And then, in the afternoon, the rains came down. We pushed on despite it but when we reached Wilmcote and we knew that ahead of us lay the seventeen locks into Stratford-on-Avon, we decided to call a halt and bed down early for the night. We got out of our wet clothes, showered, knocked up a red chicken curry with rice and naan bread, lit the fire and relaxed and watched a wonderful documentary about the Great Fire of London.

 

Sunday June 27

Bill and the Drink

 

The morning started well enough. A leisurely push off at 8am from Wilmcote and through the first and second locks, Lynn on locks, Bill on tiller. At the third lock, because the second had been a bit of a stinker, Bill drove the boat into the lock and then hopped off to open one of the front paddles to help me and then he was going to jump back on the boat before it began to lower in the lock. Meanwhile I was at the back of the boat closing the back gate and was about to go forward to open the left hand paddle. The next thing I heard was Bill shouting “Help, Lynn....” The bugger was in the drink—again, for heaven’s sake. There he was, in the lock, which fortunately was still full as no paddles were open, clinging to the side wall and not able to pull himself up out of the water. I tried to pull him out and between the two of us with me on my backside on the lock verge and Bill making several heaving motions up over the lip of the lock he managed to get enough of his body out of the water to bring the rest out. The right hand lock edge had been replaced in recent times with concrete, which for some unknown reason, was beveled downwards on its inner third. Bill was wearing casual slip-ons and was walking along the lock edge to keep his shoes dry, when his foot turned on the bevel and in he went, sustaining a very nasty smack under the left side of his jaw in the process. His chin is twice its normal size, all swollen and shiny and abraided. It looks like I’ve given him a decent right upper cut. His right rib margin is aching somewhat and I suspect this may worsen in the next few days as ribs do.

 

We got ourselves out of the lock and I took us into the next one while Bill showered and put on new clothes. He was under strict orders to stay on the boat as he looked a little staggery. However further down the line he was able to do the last four locks as we came into Stratford-on-Avon, marred only by my running the boat aground in the pound as I moved over to pass an upcoming boat. I managed to get myself off with guidance shouted from Bill on shore, a little leverage with the long pole and a good lock full of water from above.

 

We moored just outside the basin then went to explore. In the basin at least half a dozen moorings remained, it being just before lunch time and we made a snap decision to move the boat and put ourselves in the centre of the action, for better or worse. The “worse” is noise factor but you can get that wherever you are, but as we were near the beer garden of a pub at the initial site we didn’t think it could get any worse. Bill did a wonderful, very precise approach to and entry of the boat into the mooring. We have our very own (ours and any one who wants to moor next to us) pontoon in the basin. There were many hundreds of people out enjoying the sunshine, with a brass band and some street theatre and a craft market. I zoomed through my mountain of washing (easy when there’s a craft market in the offing) and then we had a very pleasant afternoon wandering about. We paid a visit to the tourist information centre to get our licence for the river so we can go on to Tewkesbury and Gloucester, where there is the National Waterways Museum.

 

I am still pressing for my two days in the Cotswolds. On our travels we have been, or will be, so close - Lechlade in the south, Oxford in the east, Stratford-on-Avon in the north and Gloucester in the west. Bill wants to wait until Gloucester but I’m concerned it will be put on the low priority list if we do that. I‘ll go to the tourist information centre in the morning and suss it out. It will mean hiring a car and moving the boat to longer term moorings but it’s something I really want to do.

 

We have restocked our larder though we are keeping the provisions low as we enter our last four weeks. We have just eaten a fairly disgusting supermarket pizza (our first) for tea and have declared it will be our last. The obligatory afternoon shower has been and gone and now the evening is fine. Or at least I thought so. Now it’s raining again - no the sun is out. That’s British weather for you.

 

Monday June 28

Shakespeare Country

 

A beautifully peaceful evening in Bancroft Basin, known locally simply as the basin. Woke briefly at 6.30am then had a delicious snooze in until 8am, something I never do at home - I’m putting it on my “must do” list in retirement (along with an afternoon read and an evening walk). Greeted by blue skies and sunshine. We then did a review of things we needed and wanted to do. To see something of Stratford on Avon, including a theatre tour (the closest I’ll get Bill to a Shakespearean play), haircuts for the both of us, investigate Cotswolds tour, library for emails, Post Office for boxes for posting things home, a new gas gun etc.

 

Bombed out on the theatre tour (sorry, none today, very busy with rehearsals). We are both sporting new No 2 haircuts. Bill says we can spare two days to do some of the Cotswolds so we a have a car booked for the morning at 9am and have a booklet (obtained with difficulty from a Basil Fawlty type lady at the Tourist Info place across the road) and two guide books bought from the local interest sections in local bookstores when Mrs. Basil didn’t come across with anything very useful. Bill says we’d need a week to see the place in the sort of detail I like to do it in so we have compromised by planning to do a smaller area in good detail.

 

We had success at the post office and with the gas gun and also bought Bill a new pair of shoes to replace the ones that went in the drink. Bill tracked down the lock keeper and, without any protest from the chap, obtained permission to leave the boat where it is until Thursday. To satisfy the sightseeing urge in the time available, we then decided to do a Stratford Tour. Had a good look over Anne Hathaway’s Cottage and then Mary Arden’s House (W.S.’s mother) as well as a drive around the streets of town. Would liked to have see Halls Croft but ran out of time. Splurged on a wonderful Indian meal tonight, we both think, probably the best we’ve had. Then home to pack our nonexistent bags for our trip. I’m taking a Sainsbury’s plasticized canvas shopping bag and Bill the bag the new shoes came in today. Bet that’ll really impress the owners of the B&B.

 

Tuesday June 29

Out in the Cotswolds with the OAP’s

 

Today we became land lubbers, packing our needs for our two day trip into the Cotswolds into a variety of strange receptacles and walking to the station with them to collect our car, a little silver 1.6L Ford Focus, that we only discovered was manual after we’d done all the paper work and fastened our seatbelts. We are so used to automatic cars it never occurred to either of us to ask. However Bill said he’d cope so off we went, wending our way around the one-way circuit of Stratford and out of the city.

 

Our introduction to the Cotswolds was Chipping Camden (“chipping” means market) and I for one, was bowled over. These villages are all made of beautiful local yellow stone and date from the 16th century onwards. Chipping Camden’s stone Market Hall in the main street dates from 1627 and when you look at the cobbles in its floor and think about the people who have walked on them it’s goose bump stuff. In the early 20th century when the profits from wool declined, there arose here an Arts and Craft movement and its legacy persists today. We visited the studio of a silversmith and the shops of a stainless steel artist and a glass artist.

 

I knew we were in farming country when Bill emerged from the public loo chortling about a sign in there that said “Please don’t wash muddy boots in the urinal or hand basin”.

 

We travelled through Broad Camden, Blockley and Bourton-on-the-Hill arriving in Moreton-in-Marsh at lunchtime. It was Market Day, and the place was teeming with old age persons, or OAP’s as they are called here. They were there by the coach load, and I’m talking about twenty coaches. We strolled through the market after having the obligatory lunch at the pub as we’d cornered a park in their parking lot. The church in the main street has a bell that rang as an evening curfew signal without missing a day, from 1633 to 1860. Curfew means cover the fires, I discovered.

 

Then on to the piece de resistance - Lower Slaughter. Absolutely amazing. I think it’s the prettiest little town I’ve ever seen. The manor house which dates from 1670, has been made into the most spectacular hotel (heaven knows what its tariff would have been but I’d loved to have stayed there.). A mill stream runs through the village and there is a restored mill at the end of the town. Lower Slaughter has not allowed any new construction (repairs only) since 1904 and so is magnificently preserved. Upper Slaughter, a mile up the hill has similar buildings but does not seem to have the careful cohesion that Lower Slaughter does.

 

I’d heard good things about Bourton-on-the-Water, a very pretty village with the River Windrush running through the centre and I’m sure it would have been wonderful-minus about three thousand people. We visited the miniature Cotswold village, constructed in 1937, which was remarkable but showing a need for a little maintenance. Then tried to venture into the attractive village centre but finally succumbed to the pressure of the crowd and retreated to the car.

 

At nearby Naunton we visited the largest dovecote in the UK, dating from 1600. This is essentially an attractive stone shed with an entrée in the roof for the birds and inside, some 1176 niches (rather like in the wall at a crematorium), in which the birds nest, protected from predators, (except man, who supplemented his diet with their meat and eggs). Pushed on to Cheltenham for the night where Bill found a nice hotel with a restaurant where we had a pleasant meal. Tomorrow we explore the area south-east of here.

 

Wednesday June 30

The Charm of the Cotswolds

 

Before leaving Cheltenham, we journeyed across town to see the Pittville Pump Room, a wonderful Regency colonnaded stone and copper domed building from 170 years ago when the local wealthy, including Royalty, came to “take the waters”. Then it was on to the Roman Villa near Chedworth, travelling through the little villages of Dowdeswell and Withington, all in the same yellow stone, with buildings dating back to the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The roads were very narrow (one car only) with occasional pull-offs for passing. At one stage we were going up a hill and met a local red bus coming down. We had to back down to a farm gate at the bottom to allow the bus through.

 

In the valley we were travelling along there was a tributary of the river Coln and, like a lot of the Cotswolds, was devoted to sheep rearing. The number of sheep they graze to an acre is astounding. And still the grass grows faster than the sheep can eat it. The sheep here have splendid fleece and allegedly are the descendants of crosses of the hardy local sheep with those brought by the Romans. Interestingly, they are not docked and don’t seem to have the problems ours would in the same state.

 

Just as we drove into the car park of the Roman Villa a deer darted across the road in front of us and into the woods. We spent and interesting hour exploring all the excavations. The mosaics were fantastic as were the bathhouse remains (though not as splendid as those in Bath). Groups of school children were especially well catered for with interesting interactive talks by National Trust volunteers, dressing up and role play.

 

From there we roamed the country lanes across to Bibury, which sported a seventeenth century Mill (converted to a mill museum), a trout farm and an eighteenth century hotel, so we were treated to history, nature and sustenance. At the trout farm we fed the fish and it was an angler’s dream (you could actually pay to fish if you wished and they would cook your catch at their restaurant). The water fairly boiled with fish. Thus inspired, we went across the road to the hotel and the fish fed us as trout almondine.

 

At Filkins, a little further to the east (more country lanes), we found the one remaining working woolen mill in the Cotswolds. They made the most beautiful things and I could have done a serious amount of damage to the Visa card without much provocation. (Bill’s note: read as “did a bit of damage”). They had a doona cover made with soft cream colour on one side and a cream and grey hounds tooth on the other and it was cashmere (such decadence) - I resisted.

 

Over lunch we’d discussed returning to the boat tonight rather than staying at a B&B as we had to have the car back by 9am anyway. By phone we arranged to do this after hours and so could wander slowly back to Stratford. We wandered back through, Burford, Chipping Norton and had afternoon tea at Shipston-on-Stour. As we reached Stratford we filled the car, stopped at the basin to deliver our gear to the boat and then while I unpacked, Bill returned the car and walked back. We’ve run the motor for a while to heat water for our showers and in the morning we’ll go through the basin lock and onto the Avon. We estimate it will take us two days to get to Gloucester. We’re told that getting in there can be a bit of sport with the speed of the current. Hope all goes well as Bill’s chin is now a nice shade of purple and we don’t need any more injuries – at least people know not to mess with me.

 

Thursday July 1

Floating down the Avon

 

The term “floating” is deliberate as we are now on the R. Avon and travelling with the current, so at times, especially when I am at the bow, and can’t hear the engine, it seems like we are floating down the river. The Avon is certainly more rural than the Thames, a bit less “tamed”, and I must say I enjoyed it. Bill had to slow for a hundred fishermen but they all seemed to appreciate it. There were fishing platforms constructed on the banks about every fifty yards - it would be an interesting journey on the weekend. We traversed twelve locks and hardly noticed. We picked up with a family on a hire boat at the second lock and travelled down with them through all but the last lock. They were Kiwis - grandparents and son and wife and three boys, from about twelve down to five. The women never appeared above decks but the son and the boys, who live in England and only see the grandparents every three years, were having a good time, doing “the boy thing” with Grandpa. At one of the locks there were three boats queued to come in after us, two of them manned by young men who looked like students and the third boat by a couple our age. As all three of their boats fitted in the lock and there were six lads (all clutching stubbies) to work the locks, the couple had had nothing to do and said they would be sorry to see the boys leave them at Stratford. The boys even helped us with our entry and egress. We similarly, had to lose our NZ family after the second last lock to go and get fuel in the marina.

 

The last lock of the day, into Evesham, is manned and you can moor by the lock for what amounts to a donation. We have chosen to do this, beside a little wood. The guide book tells us there are moorings in town but ten to one if we go there, there would not be one available. Although we have only done sixteen miles today and twelve locks, and not gone as far as we would have liked, it is 4.30pm and time for “happy hour”. We know to go on at this time is not clever. We’ve walked up to the local small supermarket and bought some essentials and will stay here for the night by the lock and the weir. The weir is interesting as there are hundreds of Canada geese perched along its spillway, feeding on some sort of weed growing there.

 

Friday July 2

White water on the Avon

 

We left our little mooring by the wood below the lock keepers cottage in Evesham and discovered, around the bend, very elegant public park side moorings in the centre of town. Isn’t that always the way. However they had one deterrent and that was a busy noisy road running parallel with the river so perhaps we did well with our protected little mooring. We travelled through some very pretty country and through two (among six for the day) locks with the unlikely names of Chadbury and Fladbury. Nearly every little town today has had a river side mill which has now been converted for residential use.

 

We have passed by several big manor houses and the some of the bridges have been 14th (at Pershore) and 16th century (at Eckington). It’s an incredible feeling to pass under them and think about the history they have seen. The Cavaliers tried to demolish the one at Pershore as they escaped from the Battle of Worcester in 1651. We passed by two hand drawn ferries and saw one of them, just after a lock we were turning into, being used by a man who was hauling himself across the river.

 

Everywhere today, we have been reminded that we are travelling through a flood plain. There are old reminders like the 1881 flood banks at Fladbury (ineffective a number of times, resulting in a flooding of the village) and new reminders like six foot mooring posts with sliding rings at the base, mobile homes on five foot Besser block stumps and markers on the wall at every lock of the April 1998 flood when the river breeched its banks after only 24 hours of torrential rain.

 

The weather today has been a little unkind to us in sending a pesky wind that, at its peak, created white caps on the Avon. We saw very little traffic as a result but many moored boats, cruisers and narrow boats alike - they obviously don’t have a date with Gloucester tomorrow. We have passed many fisherman and even more numerous fishing platforms belonging to the fishing clubs of the area. We saw one chap landing a fish, about the size of a WA pilchard, and we’re sure he was trying his hardest to keep it under water until we had passed. To our amusement today, we passed a little hamlet with the unlikely name of Wyre Piddle. Seemed somehow to bear an association with the aftermath of a prostate operation, especially as the little stream nearby was called Piddle Brook and an island in the river, Tiddle Widdle Island.

 

Finally we have reached Tewkesbury which sadly lacks salubrious moorings, so we are tied up beneath a concrete wharf by an ancient mill within sight of the lock we’ll traverse in the morning. Pearson’s guide says “Tewkesbury’s waterfront is as close to heaven as you are likely to get this side of the pearly gates” ill said “Well, we must have missed it” and I said “He’s dreaming”. We will go for a walk after tea and see what we’ve missed. The downside of being on a river, as opposed to a canal, is that you just can’t pull up anywhere that it’s deep enough as there is the current to consider and the banks are often very shallow. In the flood prone towns, the moorings are all against concrete walls so the view from the kitchen sink is never glamorous.

 

We had hoped to reach Gloucester today but 26 miles in a day is good going. Bill obviously has some cracked ribs from his fall in the lock five days ago. I have done some driving today to give him a break but his body language says this is worse for his health than his driving.

 

Progress This week Distance (miles) 51.5 Locks 42

Total Distance (miles) 621.5 Locks 528

 

The journey continues……..

[kawaton]

Wow!!

 

you've just made my day.

i've been reading your posts and have been impatiently looking forward to the next.

Each day i worry that your next installment would not be there, and id have to wait another day.

Im off work today, and am overjoyed to see so much to read.

You've given me a great excuse to get out of the housework!!

 

My only concern is that your almost finished!!!!

 

I wish more people would entertain us with their travels.

i think i must have read every blog etc that is available...at least twice.

 

I need to take a leaf out of your book. im going on three canal holidays this year, so i'll see if i can get the other half to keep a log (in between cooking, locking, sleeping etc)

its a shame to keep all the memories locked up in your head, when others can take some much enjoyment out of them.

 

(Ive been visiting this site for 3 years, and have never posted before. I felt your story deserved my "cherry"

 

THANKS

[Bill Kennedy]

kawaton

 

I am honoured to be the recipient of your cherry and so pleased you are enjoying the diary of our travels. There are another 3 chapters to go which I will post before we leave on our next 12 week cruise beginning on 02/04. We are using a different airline this time, one that has a scheduled stop in Dubai, so hopefully there will be no dramas on the trip. We are getting very excited at the prospect of our 2005 cruise.

 

Cheers

[kawaton]

kawaton

 

I am honoured to be the recipient of your cherry and so pleased you are enjoying the diary of our travels.  There are another 3 chapters to go which I will post before we leave on our next 12 week cruise beginning on 02/04.  We are using a different airline this time, one that has a scheduled stop in Dubai, so hopefully there will be no dramas on the trip.  We are getting very excited at the prospect of our 2005 cruise.

 

Cheers

<{POST_SNAPBACK}>

 

 

I went on holiday twice last year, and during our may holiday i was looking out for you, as we were on the four counties ring. I did'nt see you though, and now i know why. The day we went past Gt Haywood, up to stoke, you had turned down the staffs and worcs the previous day, on route to Brewood for your repairs.

 

This year, our first holiday ends 02/04, and our second starts 11/7. So i guess we will miss you again.

 

Will you be using the same boat this year?

 

I hope you enjoy your 2005 trip as much as the last. Although, from a selfish point of view i do hope there are a few dramas. It all adds to the story!!

[Bill Kennedy]

I went on holiday twice last year, and during our may holiday i was looking out for you, as we were on the four counties ring.  I did'nt see you though, and now i know why.  The day we went past Gt Haywood, up to stoke, you had turned down the staffs and worcs the previous day, on route to Brewood for your repairs.

 

This year, our first holiday ends 02/04, and our second starts 11/7.  So i guess we will miss you again.

 

Will you be using the same boat this year?

 

I hope you enjoy your 2005 trip as much as the last.  Although, from a selfish point of view i do hope there are a few dramas.  It all adds to the story!!

<{POST_SNAPBACK}>

[Bill Kennedy]

I went on holiday twice last year, and during our may holiday i was looking out for you, as we were on the four counties ring.  I did'nt see you though, and now i know why.  The day we went past Gt Haywood, up to stoke, you had turned down the staffs and worcs the previous day, on route to Brewood for your repairs.

 

This year, our first holiday ends 02/04, and our second starts 11/7.  So i guess we will miss you again.

 

Will you be using the same boat this year?

 

I hope you enjoy your 2005 trip as much as the last.  Although, from a selfish point of view i do hope there are a few dramas.  It all adds to the story!!

<{POST_SNAPBACK}>

[Bill Kennedy]

As you will discover in the last chapter we have bought our own boat and plan to cruise 12 to 15 weeks each year so we may catch up sometime in the future,