Two Treats from the Trust

The miles continue to drift lazily by as we pursue our persistent journey southward; Milton Keynes has passed us by as has Leighton Buzzard.

 

Entering Stoke Hammond Lock

 

The days however rush past quickly as we move into early Summer. It becomes a pleasure to notice that the Sun doesn’t set until a quarter to nine in the evening now and after their late start, the Spring flowers are still hanging on to their luxuriant blossoms most triumphantly.

After the long lock free pound that took us across the flat Northamptonshire Plain we have now climbed the southern slope of the Chilterns with Ivinghoe Beacon on our left and are well into Red Kite country. These birds of prey that look just as their name suggests and could be easily mistaken for a large red Chinese kite, are now very well established in the area and swoop and hover very low overhead.

We are currently moored just to the north of Cowroast Lock, about three miles south of Marsworth Junction from where a narrow arm takes the canal down to Aylesbury. As the mobile internet connection here is not too bad I am taking the opportunity of updating our position.

‘Roots and Wings’ currently has a few guests aboard. While you will remember that Janis’ sister Sharon joined us in Banbury to crew for her at the beginning of our voyage and still remains with us, on Friday last her eldest sister, Raeleen, whom I met last year, arrived for a few days on board as well. This morning, together with Pip, a gentleman friend from Newark, who’s been down here for the week,  she has taken them all for a short cruise back up to Bulbourne Junction and then down the short Wendover Arm. Originally we were hoping to venture down the Aylesbury Arm but one of the locks has collapsed and the canal in that direction is closed now indefinitely.

So that leaves me able, quietly to get on with my writing for a while.

On our way here, we were moored for a couple of glorious days right outside ‘The Globe Inn’ at Leighton Buzzard and from there the three of us set off one sunny morning on two bikes and by walking, to visit the gardens of Ascott House, owned by the Rothschild Family and managed by the National Trust, about three miles away. The experience was wonderful and when we arrived we were assailed continuously and conclusively by both the fragrance of Spring and the beauty of the gardens.

 

The soft light fragrance of the Magnolia was heady

 

Multi-coloured Tulips and white Narcissi at Ascott House

 

‘Futurest’ outside ‘The Globe Inn’, Leighton Buzzard

 

Then on Saturday we caught a bus from our mooring here into Aylesbury and then a second one out to Waddesdon Manor, the palatial mansion, again owned by the Rothschild Family but managed most admirably by the National Trust for all the visitors that go there to see it’s both rare and priceless treasures. We arrived at the time it opened and stayed until it closed at around six o’clock in the evening and then only managed to see a very small portion of the house and its glorious gardens. I reckon a whole week is needed to see everything on offer.

 

The Ascent of Venus at Ascott House

 

Waddesdon Manor

 

The only thing that tried very hard to dampen our spirits was the weather for in between warm sunny spots we were assailed continuously by heavy showers, which quickly brought the umbrellas out and made everybody run for the slightest piece of cover available. We returned to the ships at about eight very happy though somewhat damp.

It had been a lovely day.

My Turn at last

The Skipper's gone off today …. again!

He’s tootled off with his two ladies. I think they’ve gone to somewhere called Ascott House for the day. But they’re always going off for walks somewhere after we’ve tied up.

He’s never on board these days except when we’re cruising and it’s such a shame as I am feeling quite neglected. Normally by this time of the year with the fire out and not making any dust, he’s had a good clean through on the inside. When that’s done and the chimney’s put away and the flue swept he gives me a good shampoo before touching up and redoing the outside paintwork where necessary. Usually by this time It’s all done and dusted.

But this year nothing’s been done at all yet and I think it’s a disgrace. You must have noticed too his photos of the roof paintwork and how it’s peeling so badly. Well it doesn’t seem to be worrying him too much this time.

It’s those two ladies on ‘Roots and Wings’ of course. They’re distracting him.

But it’s not they’re fault really. They’re just minding they’re own business on they’re own boat. It’s him doing about and showing off when they’re around and trying to be like a half sharp teenager that makes him look so silly. That’s what I object to. He does let himself down so and at his age I do wish he’d learn. You’d think he would by now wouldn’t you?

But there we are. That’s what I have to put up with.

It’s nice to be cruising again though as I don’t like those cold winters very much frozen in one place, though it wasn’t quite so bad this year.

I don’t like not doing anything. I like to be on the move.

I have to confess that the ‘Old Man’ knows how to handle me now though and he does it very well generally except sometimes when he doesn’t concentrate. He’s too busy looking at some bird through the binoculars when all of a sudden he realises I’m about to run into the bank and just manages to get back in control before anything serious happens. It’s a bit nerve racking at times, I can tell you.

But generally he’s pretty good now as he knows exactly how I handle in different conditions. We both know each other very well after four years, though I have to make more allowances for him than he has to for me. I do exactly as he tells me through the controls every time. Why can’t he be like that too and react to what I want.

But I like his relaxed style of boating. It suits me just right. He’s never in any hurry, never gets flustered and never panics, even when manoeuvring. He rarely asks Russell Newberry for much above a tick over speed when travelling along so it’s no wonder he does such short daily mileages.

But it’s good and it suits me just right. The Sun is shining, my solar panel is alive and life is beautiful, especially with the water quietly pushing around and caressing my sides.

It’s very sensuous. Ooh err!

Leighton Buzzard

Now deep in the heart of Buckinghamshire we continue to weave our slow and languid journey south along the Grand Union Canal, beside low wooded hills, green with the abundance of Spring. The occasional lock with jaws wide to welcome us, is the only interruption to our reverie as we steer mostly through the endless miles of sunshine that has bathed us in this early May. Even passing close to Milton Keynes, so well designed as such and laid out, has not spoilt the image of this near pastoral bliss.

 

Artistic Graffiti at Wolverton

 

St Mary’s Church at Woughton-on-the-Green

 

Poplars blown sideways by prevailing wind at Little Woolstone

 

This afternoon we have moored right outside the Globe Inn, just to the north of the twin towns of Leighton Buzzard and Linslade and the Sun is still shining with its continued golden munificence. On this bank holiday weekend the pub is doing well and the clientele are spilling out alongside the towpath. Sunday lunches are being served beneath well weathered umbrellas by harassed bar staff and as I write now the excited chatter and laughter wafts in through my open forward doors. Life is good and we have done well.

We plan to stay here another night so that we can visit tomorrow Ascott House the National Trust property about four miles from here. Hopefully the weather will remain in a generous mood for yet another day.

From Wolverton we travelled down to a suburb of Milton Keynes called Little Woolstone, near to the site of the proposed new canal between Milton Keynes and Bedford and in the glorious evening we walked across to the medieval village site of Woughton. All that remains of the western end, except for earthworks veiled by grass, is the church, still the parish centre point of the surviving village of Woughton-on-the-Green.

 

St Luke’s  cruciform church at Stoke Hammond

 

Yesterday we journeyed a little further south to Stoke Hammond, the small village that is rather strung out along the busy A4146. But still it did its best to look pretty for us in the Sun and appeared well looked after with grass road verges well cut and manicured with Spring flowers. The small ancient church of St Luke looked mainly of the Thirteenth Century but we were unable to see inside unfortunately as it was locked. It was unusual in being built in the cruciform plan, reserved normally for large abbeys and cathedrals only. Stoke Hammond is one of only a handful of villages that was spared any casualties during the First World War and there is an unusual memorial in the centre of the village to commemorate the fact.

 

 

Stoke Hammond’s Unusual War Memorial

 

Sunset at Stoke Hammond

 

In the last couple of days birds have been more plentiful. As well as hearing the Cuckoo, for the first time for many years in fact, just a few days ago, on two separate occasions since then I have seen Mandarin ducks in the water as well as a Kingfisher sitting very close to me on a low branch. I reached for my camera quickly of course but none of them were prepared to wait until I was switched on and focussed up so I have no pictures to show unfortunately. Surprisingly today was the first time I spotted a Heron since leaving Banbury but he was much tamer and actually posed for his picture. Also there was a pair of Arctic Terns with their twin Swallow-like pointy tails overhead at Soulbury Locks earlier today, hoping no doubt that we would churn up some delicacy with our propellers for them to swoop for.

Therefore all seems well with everything and everybody on this sunny evening in Buckinghamshire and I am content.

A Day out at Stowe Gardens

After a couple of very pleasant nights spent tied up at Stoke Bruerne, where we visited the Museum, did the audio tour and spent an evening in the Navigation Inn, so we could use their free Wi-Fi, on Monday morning we set off bright and early, well for us anyway, at 10 am and made our way down through the Stoke Bruerne Locks.

 

Looking down from the tramway at Stoke Bruerne

 

Four hours later, having been charmed by the close proximity of the small Northamptonshire villages of Grafton Regis, Yardley Gobion and Castlethorpe, whose names just on their own conjure up such enchantment, we moored up in close company at the pretty little village of Cosgrove right by the ornate (though for no known obvious reason) Soloman’s Bridge.

 

The mooring at Soloman’s Bridge, Cosgrove

 

The weather was beautiful and it was here that we enjoyed another good walk during which we explored the old Buckingham Canal, which begins at Cosgrove Junction. The first hundred yards only is in water and is used for moorings but it was gratifying to know that the course of the rest for some considerable way is very obvious and evident. This is due only I think to the efforts of the local canal restoration group, who have plainly been very busy in clearing the way and keeping the course well strimmed.

 

The Buckingham Arm

 

A Cosgrove cottage

 

Taking on fresh water at Cosgrove

 

On Tuesday morning we passed down through the single lock and having crossed the River Great Ouse, seventy feet below us, via the iron trunk aqueduct built in 1811 and having been enchanted in rural surroundings since leaving Banbury a fortnight ago, we soon entered the urban area that announced itself plainly as the coming of Milton Keynes.

 

The aqueduct over the River Great Ouse

 

 

At Wolverton

 

Nevertheless our mooring at Wolverton on Tuesday evening was very quiet and peaceful. The tall surrounding flats though overbearing on first impression, insulated us beautifully from the noise of trains passing through the railway station nearby. We slept well and soundly at the end of the day. The blue cloudless sky and still conditions at sunset promised such gorgeous weather to follow on the morrow.

This was fulfilled as we set out for the bus stop yesterday morning. We’d decided to visit the Landscape Gardens at Stowe near Buckingham, about eight miles away. It was quite a journey for us and we got there by means of two buses and a short taxi ride from Buckingham.

 

Wood Anemones at Stowe Gardens

 

Janis near the Gothic Temple

 

Looking out from the mouth of The Grotto

 

The weather was perfect and we seemed to walk for miles around the grounds amazingly though beautifully designed by Lancelot Capability Brown. We had a couple of tea breaks however which certainly fortified me.

At the end of the afternoon, we ordered a taxi in time to get us back to Buckingham to catch our bus connections and we were delivered back to the ships at sunset, well satisfied with our days outing.

 

A peaceful evening, near sunset back at the ships

Weedon to Stoke Bruerne

As we left Weedon on Friday, the Sun was shining beautifully but away to the north a large black cumulonimbus cloud was ominously increasing in stature and that became the pattern of weather for the day as we were continuously slammed by heavy hail showers that bounced off the canal as well as my umbrella, which was preciously guarding the otherwise vulnerable cabin hatch opening in which I was huddled.

 

 

Bombarded by heavy hail

 

‘Roots and Wings’ emerging round the corner

 

We travelled that day as far as the moorings at Wright’s Bridge (45), close to Gayton Junction, which is the entrance to the Northampton Arm and decided that we had had enough for the day. But later the sky cleared sufficiently for myself and the two ladies to walk across, via the small picturesque village of Rothersthorpe, to Lock 2 on the Northampton Arm of the Grand Union.

The brown stone thatched village was looking wonderful under its mantle of Spring flowers. Multi coloured Tulips were fully in bloom and the soil around here is obviously very suitable for Magnolia as plenty of trees showed great strength of blossom.

 

The ancient church at Rothersthorpe

 

Magnolia in the churchyard

 

We were unable to view the inside of the ancient church as it was locked, so we made our way by footpath across to the canal and as we ambled back to the ships along the towpaths it was a pleasant change to see once more narrow locks that lead down to Northampton, visible not too far away in the distance. At the junction we passed ‘Moonshadow’ and my old friends Reg, Sandra and Jack their large dog. It was great to see them again and so far our paths seem to have crossed every year without actually planning it.

During our passage yesterday, the weather was unchanged though we managed to miss most of the squalls as they passed by. They were obviously heavy as they swept swiftly across the landscape; visibility was blotted out completely beneath the heavy cloud.

Briefly we were pleased at the protection from the showers that the Blisworth Tunnel could afford until we passed under the first of the open air shafts above us, when we were deluged by a mini waterfall that couldn’t be dodged. It had been a good idea to have the umbrella handy as I entered the darkness and it was up consequently for most of the tunnel’s one and three quarter miles. It had been wetter inside than out for the sunshine was warm and dry as well as bright to my eyes as we came out at the southern end of the tunnel and entered Stoke Bruerne.

 

The scales at Stoke Bruerne Top Lock

 

As we arrived at one thirty on this Saturday afternoon lots of visitors were milling around the area here with its old canal pub and waterway museum, while the trip boat was very busy taking sightseers the short distance up to the tunnel entrance and back again.

At this early time of day too there were plenty of free moorings above the lock which we took advantage of, settling quietly down for the rest of the day.

Up the Oxford Canal to the Grand Union

The South Oxford Canal and north of Fenny Compton in particular, is always peaceful and idyllic. As the course of the canal becomes more meandering and the hairpin bends more torturous, in spite of the careful concentration needed in order to keep on the track, a certain peace and tranquillity descends upon me.

 

Sharon’s photo of ‘Futurest’ on the Oxford Canal

 

It is due to the fact that there is not a trace of another human being to be found for mile after mile that allows me in these parts to commune with Nature much more quietly and relaxedly and on her terms, so that I can appreciate and respect all the other forms of life busily going on around me and especially at this time of year with young life abounding everywhere.

 

Skipper Janis exiting Marston Doles Lock

 

Lambs frolic and gambol in the sunshine on lush green meadows dotted liberally with fresh new yellow Dandelion and Lesser Celandine while the evolving green bloom of Spring in the hedgerows and trees begins to hide the cold sticks of Winter that seem to have tormented us for so long.

So it was this time on the way from Fenny Compton to Napton.

As we came down to our preferred mooring just above the bottom lock at the latter, the Sun was shining (as is always usual here) and with a warmth that we are not used to this early in the year.

 

A ewe and her lambs on the towpath at Napton

 

Napton Windmill at Sunset

 

The girls and I took a walk to the top of the steep hill via the church and were amazed by the amounts of wild Spring flowers in bloom, from white Snowdrops in great abundance and Primroses and Daffodils. All of them may be later than usual but I don’t remember there being such a prolific display ever.

 

Bob, Janis and I on the side of Napton Hill

 

Near the windmill we met Bob the farmer who looks after the rare cattle and sheep breeds that graze on the slopes and he was pleased to show us them in close-up. The viewpoints across the plains that he showed us and his vast knowledge of the area were amazing.

The following day we arrived at bustling Braunston Turn, where the village on the hill keeps itself quite separate from the village of boats in the huge Marina on the canal, though it is the latter community that keeps the numerous small shops on top of the valley, as well as the pubs, in good business. The rural walks in this part of the country though are beautiful and the tiny villages of Northamptonshire with their ancient rich brown stone and thatch cottages are a delight on the eye.

 

Janis and Sharon on a walk through pretty Flecknoe

 

A Spring display at Flecknoe

 

Finally the journey from Braunston to Weedon, where we arrived last night, was pleasant though more physical as we descended first up then down through thirteen double locks in two days and through the one and a quarter miles of black darkness that is the Braunston Tunnel. ‘Roots and Wings’ hung doggedly close to ‘Futurest’ while we were inside and above the engines I could hear the delighted chatter and laughter of busy Kiwi accents echoing along the tunnel as Janis and Sharon happily navigated the different challenges in the darkness.

As a reward for our numerous exertions of the voyage so far (Oh it’s such a hard life you know) and also as a birthday treat for me, on arrival at Weedon last night we three crew members went ashore to ‘The Plume of Feathers’ and enjoyed a well deserved meal and a pint.

The weather was fine and it was very warm.

On the Move Again

We left Banbury finally on Monday last at around midday, pleased to be on our way after the various engineering jobs we had required from Tooleys having been completed. I’m sure ‘Futurest’ felt pleased to be quietly moving through the water again, as she answered the helm and engine movements so easily and beautifully to the rhythmic solid thump of the freshly serviced Russell Newberry.

However as always after a leisurely extended stay in a certain place a great deal happened in the last weekend just prior to our leaving.

On Friday morning Janis’ sister Sharon arrived after a long journey from hot Queensland and she plans to stay for a while crewing for Janis as well as being able to see the country that we travel through. I had not met Sharon before but she is obviously from the same mould of adventurers as her younger sister and I’m sure we shall get along well together.

At about the same time my youngest son Alex arrived having visited his dentist in Banbury and after a cup of coffee and a chat to the girls, he and I took off in his car for his home at Cricklade in Wiltshire where I had been invited to stay the night prior to the christening on Saturday of his baby daughter Penny. On the way we collected my elder son Rupert from Swindon Railway Station and we all had a great evening together with Alex’s wife Catherine and of course Penny.

The christening the following day was in the beautiful little chapel of Prior Park Preparatory School. Many guests were there, members and friends of both Catherine’s family as well as our own and it turned out to be a great occasion for renewing acquaintances that I hadn’t seen for a number of years. As well as Rupert, it was a particular pleasure to see Millie and my granddaughter Delilah-Rose who had travelled all the way from Brighton for the occasion. It was a lovely day and Penny behaved impeccably throughout, even during the numerous photo shoots that went on during the ceremony and all through the day.

 

My Son Alex and two granddaughters Delilah-Rose and Penny

 

When it was all over Alex gave Rupert and I a lift to Swindon Station to catch our respective trains home and at around nine in the evening I arrived back in Banbury and was soon enjoying the company of the two girls again.

On Sunday evening Janis, Sharon and I went to the Mill Theatre to see the Vienna Festival Ballet present Tchaikovsky’s ‘Sleeping Beauty’. Considering that the stage area available was so small and that there was no room for an accompanying orchestra so the music was recorded, the company did remarkably well in performing the ballet very artistically and with great feeling. As always I was moved tremendously by the sensitive dancing as well as the music, so colourful and passionate that it brought the usual and familiar lump to my throat and wetness to the eye.

As already mentioned, on Monday we set forth northwards towards Cropredy where we were happy to tie up quietly for the night. At the ballet the day before we had met Ann, an old friend of Miranda’s as well as mine who lives at Cropredy and whilst chatting in the interval she invited us to tea after we arrived on Monday afternoon. She lives near to the canal so we didn’t have far to walk and it was nice to be able to talk of old times again as well as discuss the ballet together

 

Janis, Sharon and Ann at Cropredy Lock Bridge

 

We stayed at Cropredy a second night as I had a late appointment on Tuesday evening with my GP. I was relieved when he gave me the ‘all clear’ for another year after my earlier MOT.

Then on Wednesday morning we said goodbye to the village and set off northwards through nine locks and moored with relative ease even though it was in a howling gusty gale, which luckily blew us right onto the towpath at the top of Claydon Locks. The wind was so fierce that it was difficult to push the ship off far enough to insert fenders in between her and the shore. It continued to be a wild and blustery night and sleep was difficult with all the creaks, groans and rattles going on outside.

 

Approaching Claydon Top Lock

 

 

A healthy ewe and her lambs

 

I was happy to see the Sun early the following morning reflecting off the water, through my bedroom porthole flickering silently on the bulkhead and later, managing to get away from the towpath side with great difficulty against the continuing breeze, we tied up last night at the Radio Aerial mooring just to the north of Fenny Compton Wharf. By the time we arrived the breeze had disappeared and though we had had the occasional heavy April shower during the day the sky cleared as we moored and we were treated to the most wonderful of sunsets.

These always make a happy day complete.

 

 

The Sun going down quietly after a passionate day