Friday 27 March 2015

Marching On.

That's March nearly over. Lent is half way through and my Lenten resolutions gone the way of all flesh. 68 and still a sinner. Heigh ho. BUT! It's Spring and it's Pay Day so forward. Not the clocks though. Not yet. Not till next weekend 28th/29th. Sad to report that another indication of the rolling years manifested itself last weekend when yours truly went to bed on board Independence but before retiring for the night put my clocks forward. Not the mobile phone, of course, as that adjusts itself.
 I don't know why I thought that it was that weekend. Travelling back from Yorkshire on the previous Friday with three crew from my week on the Leeds and Liverpool canal (of which more anon) we saw the much vaunted eclipse. Well, the other three saw it. I was negotiating a busy Bradford roundabout. Apparently it was very good. Much clearer than in the south east which is surprising given the price of houses. Conversation then turned to the loonies who would be prancing round Stonehenge thence to Spring. I'm sure someone said we'd lose an hour this weekend so that's my excuse.
Fortunately at 3.30 on Sunday morn (which should have been 4.30)  micturition meant that I could check my phone. Unchanged! What devilment was this? Then the penny dropped. (after all I was spending one) So I have to do it all again next week. The clocks-not the micturition...Unless I forget.....


What else. A couple of walks. One round the parish of Marsworth where the new housing on the old British Waterways yard is progressing apace. Shame to lose another bit of canal history but CRT need the money and the nation needs housing.

Shameful is the condition of the empty White Lion, closed now in excess of four years and not a jot of progress to developing the site. If we really are serious about building more housing then this sort of situation needs legislating. The site is an eyesore and if nothing happens soon it should be threatened with being turned into a people's commune, demolished and used for travellers. Bloody hell you'd see some development pdq if that happened. hee hee.



Another walk round Wendover Woods and there's a real Spring feeling about-and I made a new friend-I'm on the left.





Back at Pam's we were entranced by the antics of three red kites, swooping and diving, hovering and plummeting. Three's a crowd and there was a bit of a kite-fight. My photos don't do justice but it was magical   and they have been back a few times to entertain us.         







Talking of wildlife I made one of my rare visits to the Lamb pub where Phil the Landlord and I briefly exchanged headgear .
We know how to enjoy ourselves in Berkhamsted.
Talking of famous Berkhamstedians did you know the late great Harry Worth lived in the town. For those of you who just said "Harry Who?" cut and paste the following.
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f189hOfyYSY

If you're too old to know what "cut and paste" means then you'll remember Harry Worth anyway.


A rare picture of Independence taken by George and Carol from Still Rockin' on their way south. One of the best canal blogs around. http://wbstillrockin.blogspot.co.uk/
Thanks both-catch you next time.




Thought I'd spotted some road kill whilst out for a stroll but it turned out to be local character Golly
Taking steps to commit a crime
 soaking up the sun-sensibly in the middle of the road. Oblivious to the  ducks who were attempting to steal a step-ladder (their real one having died many years ago)and burgle the nearby bungalow. I've heard of cat burglars but never duck burglars.
You lookin' at me?
Talking of ducks I averted an unwanted pregnancy in the quackarian world. Mr Duck was plighting his troth quite insistently whilst lurking in the trees opposite my boat. He was enticing Miss Duck from the towpath to his lair where one didn't need an O level to know he didn't want to discuss the forthcoming equinox


I'm waiting....



Don't do it girl!


Not sure about this web dating
It was at this point that I threw half a loaf of stale bread in the canal


Sod you Romeo-I'm off to get my lunch



Aw bloody hell!






A fill of diesel which I hope will be the last for heating purposes.


Because Spring is here. Official as these snowdrops on the moorings show.



An unusual shot of Rising Sun Lock in Berko. I presume it was taken from a plane or a balloon. I just added this in case you were bored with ducks. (Duck bored?)




The Leeds and Liverpool Canal

We need to talk about Kevin.



I need to explain why Kevin is holding a cuddly toy. The crew, Ady, his brother Kevin, Geoff and myself were due to meet Peter on the Monday to have a few days on the Leeds and Liverpool canal. As I didn't fancy driving up on the Monday morning, with all the delights of the M1, I suggested and the chaps agreed that we four would b& b overnight on the Sunday somewhere near the boatyard in Silsden. We found a place for 45 quid for a single room plus breakfast in Utley. The room was a bit crowded and we had to share a breakfast but that's life on a pension. Peter was making his own way from Devon to stay with friends in Keighley. This was handy as it meant we didn't have five in a bed and also there were only 4  bits of toast. (If this is getting too complicated for you go and have a cuppa and get your atlas out)

So we four were duly booked into the excellent Dalesgate hotel and set off to the nearby pub to find some dinner. 
Bloody Mothers' day! Place was crawling with verminous offspring and screeching mothers and not a table to be had. Why isn't there a Fat, Old Bald Motherless Blokes' Day where pubs are Child-Unfriendly, no music, no tv,  no stupid balloons, no daffodils, no high chairs, no "Meal Deals", no ill-educated, tattooed eejits asking "Can I get..." and where beer is the main item on offer with a  free steak with every third pint!? And what are Baby Changing Rooms about? If you don't like the one you've got (wrong sex, wrong colour, wrong  parent?) then leave it outside a convent and go and create another one.Don't go changing it in a pub in Yorkshire.  The Fat, Old,Bald Motherless Blokes will pay....but I digress. Time for a tablet.

Anyway we got seated after an hour so by the simple expedient of wandering from table to table asking if they had discovered God and was their child interested in becoming a Seventh Day Useahankiest. The meal deal was actually very good value with two mains for £8. In the corner of the bar for some inexplicable reason stood one of those machines you get in fairgrounds where for a quid you attempt remotely to crane out a prize. This machine was full of cuddly toys and cost a quid a go. What sort of idiot would be tempted by such a deal?

Kevin......
.................er, and me,
I only put my money in to support Kevin who was obviously having some sort of drink-induced soft toy crisis which should warrant counselling and a government handout.
I also wanted to win Florence something for her birthday next week (mean bugger) so we plied our crane driving skills until about 10 quid later...
Voila! 

We called her Norma for the duration of the holiday -  I'm sure Florence will know what her real name is. 
Why Norma?
Didn't I mention Norman? Norman the Gnome normally lives on Independence but we take him away whenever possible and it seemed nice that he should , for once in his Gnomic life, have a holiday romance. Norman and Norma. Sweet.
After our victory in the crane world Kevin and I noticed that Ady and Geoff had set themselves apart from us, nearer the doorway and for some reason were attempting to explain to the bar staff why two grown men with an average age of 64 would want a cuddly toy to take on holiday with them. They looked uncomfortable about it. We didn't care, Norman had a girlfriend. Back to the hotel where they spent the night embracing in the back of my car. Norman and Norma that is-not Ady and Geoff. Nothing odd about this crew.

Silsden

Where we start our cruise. First, of course, we had to check out the local facilities in anticipation of a last night dinner. We found a pub near the boatyard, the Robin Hood, which turned out to be the best in Silsden (so I am told) where we met Peter and rejoiced. 
After a few rejoicings we began loading the boat, a successful exercise, smooth and speedy; the only hiccough being one of our number who managed to break a few eggs which deposited yoke throughout, the yard, the boat and Silsden generally.
Silsden-this is the pretty bit.


The fire in the Red Lion


Home for the crew
These blokes are looking the wrong way
Bridge!
Ady swings both ways
We set off for Skipton in the rain but fortunately this was to be our only wet weather for the whole trip. No locks to Skipton though a few swing bridges, a feature of the L and L requiring strict discipline and co-ordinated team work and a steady hand on the tiller. We missed most of them.                                                                                                      

Left hand down a bit

We arrived in Skipton late afternoon and had to go through to the far end to find a mooring. Because of all the bridges we kept stopping to work other boats through they rewarded us by nicking all the best moorings. We needed the exercise anyway and though cold it was a pleasant evening for a walk to the Woolly Sheep pub, with good beer, a roaring fire, the crossword and an excellent beef stew all was well. No music, no tv, no nuisances. Perfect.

http://woollysheepinn.co.uk/


St Patrick's Day

We left Skipton earlyish en route for Gargrave, breakfasting on bacon-lite butties at the bottom of a flight of 6 locks where we were joined by another narrowboat who were fairly novice and grateful for the opportunity to watch a very well oiled crew, thinking as one man,as we moved seamlessly from lock to lock crashing gates, dropping ropes in the water, losing stragglers,   getting hung up on 5 out of 6 cills. Only joking chaps. V smooth.
And anyway we were going uphill so the last couldn't have happened.

At Gargrave we met Tricia (Pam's sister) and husband Tony (Leeds supporter) and gave them a lift through the first 4 of the Gargrave locks before mooring at the Anchor for a pint. Unfortunately I didn't take any photos as I was too busy being busy so hope for some pictures from Tony sometime. It was a very pleasant lunchtime though had I known the Fulham v Leeds result later that week(0-3) in advance it might have soured things a bit.

After lunch we pressed on to East Martin where Kevin winded (turned) and moored for the night. A pleasant pre-dinner pint in the Cross Keys where Kevin left early to prepare the St Patrick's Supper. A fine gammon with colcannon and cabbage and a special Kevinesque jus of great quality.


All absolutely marvellous!
Happy St Patrick's Day!


Gargrave

First we need a table.
On Wednesday we returned to Gargrave leaving East Martin on the 9.00 tide and planning on breakfasting at the top of Bank Newton locks.

However once at the first lock we were joined by another boat and postponed breakfast so we could share. Locks that is, not breakfast. It was nb Wumpus owned by Phil and Stephanie who are travelling the system for a couple of years. Originally from St Albans they had boated through Berko and Tring and were v pleasant company through the flight.
Ady gets his tea with Wumpus coming up behind
We stopped for water and they went on to Gargrave (where we met again on licensed premises.) At long last we had breakfast. 12 30.
The full Yorkshire including Bubble and Squeak from St Patrick's colcannon.
Followed by Pam's Marmalade....though in Ady's case he had his marmalade before his breakfast arrived.....and afterwards.
After a wander round  Gargrave, a pleasant village (I'd been here a couple of years previous for the wedding of Tricia and Tony's daughter, Nicola) and some shopping at the local Co-op (I was in great need of Lemsip as my manflu about which I had said nothing was becoming more than any ordinary mortal could have handled) we booked a table at the Mason's Arms for the evening. We'd been told that the grub was great value and it was a good job we booked as they were v busy. The food was exceptionally good and was our best of the week (except Kev's gammon of course) I had trout which was superb and the rest had lamb which was apparently tip top.


Leaving Gargrave




Last  Lock before Skipton
Whilst a couple of loathsome dogs bark at the swans


Kevin raises the bottom paddles








The bottom paddle wont close properly so I got an early bath!





This bridge was electric






 and the view  was a lovely bit of Yorkshire-just outside Skipton












Kevin loves lock work....and cuddly toys


...and a smoke



A few random shots of the canalside scenery.










Adrian to whom we are all indebted for this wonderful trip.

Back through Skipton















The temptation to hook the bottom rung with the boat hook was resisted

Goodbye Skipton.

and now we are heading for the White Lion at Kildwick.















The only fisherman we saw all week and he was friendly!




Another bridge!






Through the bridge 183 by the Memorial to Polish Airmen



The Memorial



The memorial recalls the deaths of seven Polish airmen on 23rd September, 1943. Their Wellington Bomber was returning to their base on the Solway Firth when their port engine failed and they crashed into nearby Farnhill Wood













Mooring at Kildwick
After tying up after br 186 we walked down the hill to the White Lion passing the local church and primary school where the kids were singing "He's got the whole world in His hands". Very good.
Who's got the kitty
Once we'd got the unwatched, brain dead tv off it was a pleasant pint on a sunny afternoon.
St Andrew's Kildwick

Time to head back to Silsden






arriving in time for a beautiful sunset






Having successfully moored the boat in the yard and feeling a little smug about it they asked us to turn it round so it faced towards Skipton. Fortunately this was achieved painlessly with only a small audience praying for a cock-up.


...a little smug...
Kevin went scouting and we all met for a planning meeting in the Robin Hood. He did not have good news. No restaurant in Silsden and the chippy shut at 6.30. There was an Indian but Peter aint keen on the hot'n'nasty stuff so prayers were offered to St Arving of Nuneaton, the patron saint of anorexics. and Lo! Kevin had met with a man in a pub! The man was a chef at the nearby Steeton Hall where although it was his night off he was sure we'd be looked after. Cabs booked, table booked, job done.           http://www.steeton-hall.co.uk/

The cab was an unbelievable £3 each way -you know you're not in Berko now- and the meal was good value with all tastes satisfied. A good finish to a good week


this is me trying to work the self timer on the camera


In the end we had to get Norma to take this final group-Ady, Peter,me,Geoff, Kevin with Norman (Kevin's the one with glasses)
Loath to break up a party we drove home circuitously via Monsal Head in Derbyshire where we bade farewell to Peter after tea and scones. Tom Tom took us through the middle of Bradford, during the Eclipse, (or maybe it always looks like that) which is where the seed was sown for my early equinox.
Is there enough in the drinks kitty for parking?
The magnificent Monsal Dale
That's about it for March. Well, not quite. This last weekend of the month we Cowroastafarians are off to the Red Lion at Marsworth-6 boats, 14 people for dinner on Saturday and a pub quiz on Sunday. The weather forecast is foul and we lose an hours sleep. Unless you forget to put the clocks forward. Now who could be that stupid.....

For those of you who like to keep active I leave you with the following helpful chart.

Bye Bye

And Happy Birthday to Florence


I know it's been a while and soooo many of you have asked when will I write another blog. My answer to both of them is here it is. My la...