Onto The Grand Union Canal
What a lot of boats.
What a lot of locks.
What a lot of people.
After eight months of living in splendid isolation on a riverbank all this activity comes as a bit of a culture shock. I'm used to a couple of boats a day passing by on one side and only fellow moorers wandering past on the other.
What a lot of hard work at the locks. I’m used to the Nene and Great Ouse Locks where
at the end of a days travelling you only end up with a stiff thumb from holding
down the button on the guillotine gate (I'm deliberately forgetting about the locks with wheels even thinking about the wheels is traumatic).
After a day on The Northampton Arm every muscle aches (except my thumb
which was never used). I’m sure I’ll get
used to it. By the time I reach London I’ll be so fit I’ll be able to just effortlessly
twizzle the paddles up.What a lot of people.
After eight months of living in splendid isolation on a riverbank all this activity comes as a bit of a culture shock. I'm used to a couple of boats a day passing by on one side and only fellow moorers wandering past on the other.
After the Stoke Bruerne flight I get my first bollicking. I’m trundling along on the helm and my mind
is away with the early morning fairies.
The hatch on a shiny boat is flung open and a red faced man
shouts ‘Slow Down’.
‘Sorry’ I say but I’m not really sorry.
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