Atherstone

We arrived at this little market town, steeped in history since Roman times yesterday afternoon with the persistent patter of rain on the roof.

It was only a shower but it was the remains of a day’s solid deluge, which had kept us tied firmly to the towpath on Monday, just to the north of Polesworth and round the bend out of earshot of the M42 Motorway rushing furiously across the canal. We had been caught and soaked on Sunday also and needed the next day to dry out. I had lit the fire to dry everything off.

 

‘Roots and Wings’ following astern

 

Unbeknown to our little convoy on Sunday when we arrived, our good friends Peter and Jeanne were moored only three hundred yards away around that same bend. On Monday, dodging the Monsoon conditions, we visited the two of them aboard their boat ‘Castellan’.

We had last seen them at Newark back in May so had some catching up to do. The coffee flowed well as did the chatter. Later Janis and I needed some vital provisions and had decided that come what may, we needed to brave the rain and shop in Polesworth. Jeanne decided to come with us so we three slopped into town to perform our various tasks.

It was good to see our friends again and ‘Castellan’ sparkled even in the wet conditions. They were heading north so the following day we left them and pushed off to continue our progress south.

 

Approaching Lock 3 on the Atherstone Flight

 

After a long pound we had the eleven Atherstone Locks to climb before arriving at our mooring near the BW Facilities and the town centre. So we were pleased to arrive after being battered by the rain and the strong westerly breeze for the last few days.

 

In the Basin above Atherstone Top Lock