Braunston

I’m not usually tempted to leave my bed before 6am but seeing the sunrise makes it worthwhile as I looked back over Stockton locks. We had shared the flight with Lisa and Emily who let me practice manoeuvring without worrying about their boat being bumped.

We parted company as they had to return to the real world whilst we cruised on to Braunston.

Beloved Braunston, heart of the Narrowboating community. And while Stratford was full of tourists looking at the boats, Braunston is full of boats looking for a place to moor.  The village is a short amble up the hill where the church nurtures boaters long passed, for contrary to popular belief it’s Vikings that depart to Valhalla on their burning long boat, not narrowboaters.

One of the Braunston highlights is Gongozzlers Rest. A Narrowboating cafe, and despite it being nearly lunch time, we did enjoy the full cooked breakfast.


Afterwards I was seranaded by a lovely lady playing a Native American Indian pipe. It was a beautiful sound and I have to say something I would like to learn to play myself.

Perhaps somewhere over the rainbow.