Ah to be back in the land of single locks. Having enjoyed the manned electric river locks over the summer, we then had to struggle with the heavy, unbalanced leaky locks at the start of the T&M. Very few locks defeat me, but Aston lock is notoriously difficult. I’ll happily accept, (and offer) help from passers by or other boaters, but don’t anyone dare tell me I can’t do it because I’m a woman, as one arrogant person did. Of course I graciously stepped back to let them show me how it should be done, and I tried not to smirk when they struggled, and I politely reminded them that I’d said it was a tough one. Eventually we both managed it, but I didn’t hang around to help them get their boat through. It was bliss to arrive at Dallows lock in Burton and then through one of my favourites, Tattenhill, with it’s own working boat, it’s worthy of a good jigsaw puzzle. And the cottage is a bed and breakfast, if I didn’t live on a boat I’d like to stay there. Wonder if they’ve thought of having a tea room.
We carried on cruising, happily sharing lock duties with other boaters as we made the most of a lovely autumnal day. The river and canal merge for a short distance just before Alrewas. The water becomes crystal clear and you can see the fish swimming, quite a novelty on a canal. We made it to Alrewas just before the heavens opened, but we have to remind ourselves that we need the rain, without it there’s no rainbows.
Cruising through Burton usually leaves you feeling mellow, it’s a smelly town, although not entirely unpleasant if you like a good pint. It’s undergone many ups and downs through the centuries but Burton is widely known as the home of British Beer, thanks mainly to the high mineral content of the water enhancing the flavour. Production really boomed in the 18th century when the canals were used to transport both the finished beer and ingredients. Just another reason why we should be grateful for our canal heritage. Brewing still dominates the town as we found when we spent a few days here in Shobnall Marina.overlooked by the chimneys and red brick cottages,and watched the Hobgoblin lorries trundling by morning noon and night. It’s a bit of a tricky entrance, but never the less a great little marina, family run with a well stocked and competively priced chandlrey and cafe. Eric had to be off the boat for a few days and what with the strong winds still wreaking havoc, we wanted that extra peace of mind that the boat and I would be safe.
It’s quite a tight fit to get moored, but never the less once we were settlled I made myself at home and took advantage of the bountiful pear tree making cakes puddings and chutney. Burton town centre is about 20 minutes walk and is not the most appealing places, but it’s got all the essentials, so ok for a few.
We said goodbye to our grey and chilly mooring in Beeston and headed under the footbridgethrough the lock and into the sunshineWhere Eric picked me up on the landing post ready to do our last few miles on the Trent.
This young heron stood sentry duty by the weir, I’m sure he’d have waved us off if he could.
We passed familiar landmarks that we’d seen several times back in June, it would have been nice to take a meander up the Erewash again, but we had arranged to meet friends in a few days, and the forecast was warning of imminent storm force winds so we didn’t want to get caught on a temulutuos river, which was already getting choppySawley lock, last of the easy locks, electricly operated with volockies to see us through, it was a bit gloomy down here. But sheltered from the wind,which we could tell was picking up from the flapping flags. We stopped to pick up water at Sawley, before heading under the M1, yes it always makes me smile smugly when I remember I’m no longer living in the fast lane. And finally back onto the Trent and Mersy canal for our first “proper” lock at Derwent Mouth. Those clouds were gathering pace, so although today’s journey hadn’t been a long one. We were ready to call it a day.
We’ve enjoyed our river adventure for this year. I can understand why some narrowboaters are hesitant to venture into deeper waters but we enjoy the change.
The forecast was dodgy so we decided to push on to Nottingham whilst it wasn’t raining, and I’m so glad we did. We we welcomed onto Victoria Embankment with flags, balloons and banners promoting the Tour of Britain. Thankfully not our own slow meander around the country but the high speed cycle tour, which was due to start from West Bridgford the next morning. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but there was a buzz of excitement as I pushed forward through the crowds. I’m not sure of the terminology but being a TV fan of the F1 Grand Prix, it felt like we were doing the grid walk.The car park had been turned into the paddock and the teams were preparing themselves for the race. Coaches and support vehicles all emblazoned with their team sponsors, cyclists, reporters and fans, all milling together, eagerly awaiting the start on the High street. I’d got a route map and knew that they were going over Trent Bridge twice, to do a circuit of central Nottingham and back again, so once the teams left the paddock I walked back towards the river and managed to get a prime position on the corner. Of course not being a true cycling fan I hadn’t anticipated just how quickly the peloton whizzed past.I’m fairly sure these are 2 of our British hero’s, Geraint Continue reading Touring Britain, but not by boat