Phew I'm cream crackered after traipsing round Banbury for a large part of the day, It's good to be back here though as it's been a long time since our last visit and we do love the streets and alleyways and the little independent shops, even if too many of them are charity shops. Here's a partial view of one of the largest stores in town, it's the Salvation Army shop. If you can't find something to buy in here you must have no imagination. It's about three times as big as what you see here.
And barbers, don't get me started on barbers. If long men's hair comes back into fashion, Banbury's economy will collapse. I'm surprised anybody here has any hair left.
When we arrived yesterday there wasn't a single mooring spot anywhere above the lock, not in Spiceball park, not anywhere. In the end we were forced to drop down the lock and tie up some way past the railway station against a very dodgy bit of canal bank. Here's where we have to gingerly step on and off the boat.
One thing were pleased to see still in town was the Saturday market and the baker's stall where we succumbed to the temptation of a slab of lardy cake. Mmmm, fat and sugar. A heart attack on a plate, but to die for ("Well you might", I hear our doctor saying).
As if that wasn't enough to annoy the medical profession, we also stopped in at The Three Pigeons to rest our weary legs and remind ourselves of their rather wonderful Purity Gold ale. Sadly they weren't doing food so we were forced to drink up and move along to Ye Olde Reine Deer for another pint and some lunch. It's a tough job but someone has to do it.
Although Herbie has behaved herself perfectly on her first cruise in many months, were perturbed, actually dismayed might be a better word, late on Thursday night to realise that the extractor fan on the Airhead toilet wasn't working. This little fan is essential to the functioning of the composting and drying out process. Then minutes later we switched on the boat's inverter to find that that also wasn't working. I was not a happy bunny.
Next morning I set out to investigate. As I suspected, the toilet fan which is only really accessible (without serious dismantling inside the cupboard under the sink) from the fan exhaust port outside the boat, was clogged up with cobwebs. Using a long artist's paintbrush to clean out the hole and to reach the fan I was able to flick the fan blades back into action with the aid of a good squirt of WD40 to lubricate it. One problem solved, one more to go.
The inverter appeared to be as dead as a dodo. I think its main fuse is hidden somewhere in the bowels of the engine 'ole, not somewhere where a gentleman of my age and stiffness of joints relishes exploring. I was somewhat distressed. Then in the middle of the night I remembered that the inverter supply has it's own master switch above the batteries and that's easy to get to. So after breakfast I went to have a look. Disappointingly the switch was still in the ON position but clearly corroded presumably from sitting in a damp environment all year. "Another job for WD40", I cried, and flicking the big switch back and forth a few times and a squirt of said magical spray and the little green light on the inverter sprang back into life.
If that doesn't deserve a lardy cake, I don't know what does.
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