Vital Statistics

Last night being our last night we pushed the boat out before we pushed the boat in. Which is to say we treated ourselves to a final meal out before we put Herbie to bed back at Cropredy. Actually that's not true, because this morning we gave ourselves an extra treat of breakfast at Wetherspoons before leaving Banbury. Very nice is was too, but not as nice as the superb nosh we got at The Three Pigeons last night. That had to be the meal of the trip for me. Pork medallions in a brandy cream sauce with some perfect veg. Their beer is excellent too. It even looks good.



Purity Gold that is.

Now you all know I love a good statistic or two, so here goes with the facts and figures from our trip. They might be of interest to anyone planning a Thames trip

Miles cruised: 204
Locks locked: 96
Hours cruising: 87

That works out at an average 2.35 mph, or if you discount time stationary at locks (say average 15min per lock) it comes to 3.2 mph. That sounds about right. I reckon we were doing a smidge under 4mph on the Thames and our canal average is usually about 2.7.

I reckon we've averaged about 1.4 litres of diesel an hour, which according to other BMC 1.8 owners is just about spot on.

In 28 days we have:
Visited 13 pubs
Moored away from habitation ( mostly on meadowland) on thirteen nights usually all by ourselves.
Paid for a mooring four times ( out of 17 nights on the Thames)at an average cost of £7
Been to a supermarket or food shop five times which is about as often as we have found one.

And had a very nice time.

Gossip and ink.

Just imagine it, three boaters spent a whole evening in the pub together without ever once discussing batteries or toilets. Is this a record?

Ray (aka Oakie) joined us for a night of gossip and yarning(plus a bit of eating and drinking) in the Great Western at Aynho, and with well over 200 years of life on this planet between us, we had plenty to talk about, some of it suitably salacious of course but I'd better not take that any further. For our delectation, he produced a phone app listing all the canalside pubs he had visited and we compared notes. I thought we held our end up well, but we're not in Ray's class when it comes to such things. A jolly evening was enjoyed by all.

Now Herbie rests for the night in Banbury, just a couple of hours cruising from our berth in Cropredy so our September adventure is all but over. What ever shall we do then?

Well one thing I might have a bash at, alongside trying to rescue our garden from the ravages of our neglect, is Inktober.

Inktober can be read about on the web. It's merely a personal challenge to do a drawing, in ink, each day throughout the month. As inspiration, they give you a list of 31 words (the first few are: poisonous, tranquil, roasted, spell, chicken!). Then you're supposed to do your sketch each day (or you can just do one a week if you're busy) and post a photo of it on instagram and wait for plaudits, constructive criticism, or presumably in my case derision, from your friends and family and other Inktoberists. Our Peter did it last year and found that it helped with his technique, creativity and confidence (sketchingwise). You don't have to produce a Leonardo cartoon, just a little sketch. Peter did all his in a little sketchbook about the size of a smartphone. Well I'll give it a go, I need some displacement activity or I'll end up doing something useful. Can't have that.

If anyone else cares to join in, that could be fun. I dare you.

Just in time

Is it autumn yet? The setting sun makes it look that way here at Allen's lock and tonight we could well mark the beginning of autumn by lighting the stove for the first time in several months.

Yesterday we couldn't have done it because the stove door rope I bought was too thick for the door to shut, but the wonderful Alex fixed all that today as well as unjamming our seized on chimney and sealing up a crack in the stove top. He even did a smoke test for us to make sure the stove was fume tight. Top man !

I'm already getting used to the canal again, the sticking gates and rattly paddles. Don't you just love 'em?

Last night's mooring spot was not a good choice in hindsight. Now Herbie is coated in a film of dust from the cement quarry. If I wash the roof will it turn to concrete I wonder? Oo er!

All change

Phew, back on the canal and having to work again. We're not used to winding paddle gears and pushing gates. People on the Thames don't know how molly coddled they are. When we're even older and more decrepit than we are now, I can see us in a cruiser with driving seats tootling up and down and letting Thames lockies do the work. Some nice old wooden Broads cruiser might be acceptable.

Actually tonight we're still moored on the river, only it's the Cherwell between Thrupp and Enslow. In the peace and quiet of the countryside, if you discount the helicopters, the nearby cement works, the tractor spraying goodness knows what on the adjacent field and the railway trains every few minutes. Aah well.

Swan song

Our last night on the Thames ( or I suppose it might be the Isis right here) and we're at East Street in Oxford. Tomorrow we head back up Port Meadow and onto the canal via Duke's cut. On someone's (Bones maybe?) recommendation we celebrated our river adventure with a meal and a drinky at The Punter at Osney ( now we know it's pronounced Oasney. Nice place The Punter.



And it has a very original menu. I had goat curry pie!

East Street moorings :



How good it would be to show people the beauty of Port Meadow, but being so vast and flat, it doesn't photograph easily, so how about this:



We've enjoyed the Thames more than we expected. I'll do a post about what we learned when we get back home. Right now we have to get used again to flexing our muscles on the canal locks and worrying about water levels. Surprisingly, the river has been at normal levels throughout. Amazing after the hot dry summer.

Look out CRT, here we come.

Bridges

That's more like it. Not a ripple on the water tonight. We're out in the sticks above Swinford toll bridge. You may recall that that bridge, which has been privately owned since it was built in 1796, was sold at auction about ten years back for over a million quid. The toll of 5p for cars and 10p per axle for lorries should have got them most of their money back by now because they get over 10,000 vehicles a day crossing. Locals wanted the council to buy the bridge to get rid of the long queues at the toll, but apparently they didn't have the money to buy and maintain it.

This morning we passed once again through the much prettier Newbridge bridge, probably my favourite on the Thames.





You can easily see where it has been patched up over the years.

And then this footbridge which looks wooden from a distance but is in fact disappointingly concrete.



If you read yesterday's post you recall the taciturn lock keeper. Well he was on duty at another lock today and he was quite cheerful and chatty and kind to his dog. Ours not to reason why.

Oxford again tomorrow. I'll try and get some photos this time.

Saving money on the Thames

I've suddenly learned to appreciate the Thames Visitor Licence charging system. We had to buy more time today as our original 2x1 week licence had expired. We reckoned we needed at least a couple extra days. Well for us, 2x1 day would be £67, or 7 days would be £54.90. so naturally we thought we'd get the 7 day option. But no!! We give grateful thanks to the lockie at Shifford who said, as we had already had two weeks we could upgrade that to a month for just £44.50, thus extending our possible stay for two more weeks for less than the cost of two days. Crazy but good.

This means that when taking out a visitor licence, it's best not to buy extra time at the outset just in case, because you can upgrade later if you need to and still get the full discount. Good innit?

A one day licence works out at £33.50 a day, a seven day licence at £7.84 a day, and a one month (31 day) licence at £4.97 a day. That's some discount.

Tonight we rest near the Maybush at Newbridge. That's another off the bucket list.


The river bank here is a bit high for comfort, we'll have to leap or scramble up to the pub.
.
Better not drink much or we'll end up IN the drink coming home.

The pub has been radically altered with a new extension. Traditionalists won't like it, but the tourists might as it capitalises on the views of the bridge and the river.




Dare I mention that the forecasters tell us that we're in for a long spell of fine weather from tomorrow? Better not tempt fate, so forget I mentioned it.

Making the best of it.

When, years ago, all keen to enjoy the delights of the waterways, I signed up to be a narrowboater, days like today were not what I had in mind! Much as I love the river and the rushy bends and the herons and the odd kingfisher and all that, it's hard to enjoy it with a face full of rain.

Luckily we had a cunning plan to alleviate the suffering and after an hour or so we stopped off at Kelmscott to pop round to William Morris's place at the manor. Sadly, he was not in on account of having died in 1896, but after greasing the attendant's palm with silver we were let in to admire the wallpaper and tapestries and the like. The gardens were cute too. Morris was a great advocate of keeping old buildings going by maintaining and "mending" them sympathetically. Well as it turns out, the building was in such a poor structural state when the current owners ( a charity) took it over that it was a wonder it hadn't fallen down. I think it was a good job he put up all that thick wallpaper or maybe it would have.

We couldn't resist wandering on to find the old Plough pub in the village. Forty or so years ago we used to camp for weekends across the river at Eaton Hastings and we'd cross the little wooden footbridge and walk to the Plough, which was small and rustic and had bantams wandering in and out. The beer was served through a hatch. Now of course it has a restaurant and wifi and sandwiches cost £8.50. I confess we were weak with hunger so we splashed out. My hot roast pork baguette with apple sauce and onions and a decent helping of chips was very good so I'll let them off.

Returning across the field to where Herbie was clinging nervously to the crumbling river bank we set off again in the rain. At Grafton lock we were (not ) entertained by the most taciturn lock keeper we have ever encountered. Saying nothing to us,he only emerged from his hut for seconds at a time, to wind up a sluice or close a gate, then scuttled back inside each time to shout angrily at his unfortunate dog. I doubt he'll make the shortlist for the current vacancy in the Chuckle Brothers.

Pressing on in the increasing rain we eventually reached the meadow above Rushey weir and called it a day. A nice little herd of, I think, Dexter cattle came over to inspect us and seemed to give us the ok, so we're here for the night. Little do they know that at midnight we shall become outlaws because our Thames Visitor Licence will have expired. We can buy an extension at the next attended lock.

Second confession of the day: We have resorted to heating the boat. Goodbye summer. Our stove is put of action because I pulled out the old rope door seal then bought the wrong size replacement. Doh! So it was back to the dear old Eberspacher to try to dry our wet gear for tomorrow and to warm us through. Tomorrow morning the weather is supposed to be worse, so the plan is to set off after lunch and make a dash for the Maybush moorings at Newbridge.

Until then, as the French say, "Reservoir".

Skipping cows and good food

1.View from starboard galley window


2.View from port galley window at the same time


The Lechlade cows seemed not to mind the wind, and they deftly skipped over our centre rope :


We like Lechlade very much and I'm sure we'll want to come back. A proper butcher/greengrocer, a sourdough bread bakery, a good chip shop, and some nice tea rooms and pubs, a reasonable Londis for essentials. Plus of course all those lovely Cotswold stone buildings. What's not to like? Except perhaps a man knocking on the boat roof at half past eight and asking for a fiver.

The wind is at last dying down so we upped sticks and pulled across the river to moor on the New Inn garden, as recommended by No Problem Sue. Thanks Sue, nice one.

This evening we ate at the said New Inn and we're pleasantly surprised with the food, local and fresh and well cooked, the service, efficient and friendly and the beer, a good choice and well kept. Not too pricey either . No surprise then that it was busy. And of course we got a free mooring . Recommended.

Well of course Lechlade is as far as we'll get up the Thames so in the morning we'll turn and start heading back. If things go according to plan, we'll manage to stop at places we missed on the way up.

Sitting it out

"The battle outside raging
Will soon shake your windows and rattle your walls
For the Thames it is deranging."

Bob Dylan helped me write that.

Well we've hammered on every available stake and tied to a wooden post and we're all nicely sprung in the proper manner so let the wind do its worst.

We set off early this morning and got here in Lechlade just as the wind was getting up Here on the meadow below the bridge, Herbie is rocking gently in what according to Beaufort is a "force 7, moderate gale - whole trees in motion- waves 13 to 19 ft at sea" while we wait for the threatened midnight thunderstorm. I'll probably be fast asleep by then. I'm happy to report that the waves on the river are somewhat less than 13ft, but the trees are certainly getting a workout.

If you're going to be stuck anywhere on the upper Thames, Lechlade is the place to be as it's the only place with shops and such like. I can already highly recommend the fish and chip shop.

Various people have warned us that the cows here like eating rope, but when they came and inspected ours this afternoon, they turned their noses up. What's wrong with our rope then? I feel slighted.

Our planned itinerary is all awry because of this weather, but are we downhearted? Nah!

San Fairy Ann as they say in the trenches

Interesting times

"May you live in interesting times."
So goes the old Chinese curse, and on that basis our cruise today was one of the most interesting we've ever done.

I must have a word with the Met Office. Their wind strength predictions were about an hour out, so when we set off at three o'clock expecting the wind to drop, we were cruelly misled.

Another saying is "There are no problems, just opportunities." Well I had plenty of opportunities to get Herbie blown into the reeds. Blimey it was hairy going round all the hairpin bends with the wind blasting in unpredictable directions and the rain on our faces. I feel quite proud that we arrived unscathed at Radcot, grabbing a just-long-enough bankside mooring and tying to some scaffolding poles before the boat blew away.

All is well though and we are warm and dry in the very friendly Swan pub


where a nice man says it's ok for us to tie up on what is really a private mooring. After a pint and a plate of pub grub I feel ready to do it again tomorrow to get us to Lechlade which is effectively the head of navigation. So then we can say we've cruised the whole of the navigable Thames. An early start might get us the least worst of the weather. If the met office has it right this time of course.

Gung Ho cruising

Tonight's mooring:



"Hang on," says the observant blog reader, "I thought you said you were going to the Maybush. This looks like you're out in the sticks."

Well we might have stopped at the Maybush if it had been open, so whilst we did cross another item off the bucket list and pass beneath Newbridge.


and peek up the final yards of the River Windrush

and made a note of the Maybush moorings for our way back, we decided to press on.

At times this morning it was scarily windy and we saw some boats pull in and peg down, but we are made of sterner, or stupider, stuff and plodded on in the knowledge that the weather may be worse tomorrow.

Steering a boat on this stretch requires a fair bit of concentration at the best of times. I've never experienced so many consecutive blind hairpin bends. With this wind, and warnings of silt shallows on the inside it was challenging at times, but fun. I felt like I was applying the wee bit of sailing knowledge that Rick has mostly failed to teach me. I'm sure Rick, who is a fan of such things, would have loved it. Kath did sterling work with the haroogah, sounding the klaxon to warn any unseen boats coming the other way. In the event though there were only one or two, like us, sufficiently stupid to be out on the river. A couple of times we caught lockies napping as they weren't expecting any boats to roll up.

When I was about thirteen, I read all the angling books I could get hold of, devouring wonderful old works by "BB" and the glorious writings and paintings of Bernard Venables. Angling was different then. Fishing rods were wondrous things made of split cane, floats were made from porcupine quills and ages old techniques like long trotting and stret pegging were what you read about. Baits included 'bullocks pith' whatever that is, and maggots if you used them rather than bread or worms, were called 'gentles'. I am happy that the largest fish I ever caught was tempted by a piece of ordinary bread. Nowadays it's wheelbarrows full of gear, carbon fibre poles and electronic bite alarms. Yuck. I'm not sure I ever want to fish again, but I have a deep affection for these lovely old books. It was in such works that I first read the magical names of Tadpole Bridge and Tenfoot Bridge, and today for the first time I travelled beneath them. I was not disappointed.

So here we are above Rushey lock having doubled our intended number of miles and locks, so if it is stormy tomorrow we can make a short hop to Radcot or Kelmscott and head for the pub. Nice one.