Wandering up the Leicester Line has been quite rural so far. Every day I get to hear the little lambs bleating, but they must all be camera shy because I’ve hardly had a chance to snap any of them. But we’ve had plenty of other things to watch out for on our journey north.
The canal has a fair amount of debris in it. So far it’s been lots of vegetation and branches, hardly surprising considering the strong winds a fortnight ago. But the amount of plastic and domestic rubbish is on the increase. We try where possible to pick up litter and dispose of it in a bin, so we were somewhat nonplussed when we came across about 15 big black bin liners that had obviously been fly tipped off a bridge, they’d be sure to cause a problem to someone’s prop so we dutifully attempted to hook them out as we cruised past.
Anyone who’s tried to lift something out of a canal knows that the laws of physics doesn’t make it easy. I got the first heavy waterlogged bag onto the bank, but the second split and revealed what looked like garden waste. “Thank goodness it’s not body parts” I thought glibly, only to realise that the weed I’d revealed had seven leaves, hmmm a quick Google search confirmed my suspicions that it was indeed cannabis.
Now believe it or not, we try to be good law abiding citizens, our primary thought was how much could we make out of this haul, then we went back to our more immediate concern that all those bags would be a hazard to other boaters. It being Sunday meant that CRT was only available for emergencies, and I’m not sure where the division for emergency and non emergency lies, so whilst I dithered, I thought I’d let the police know, again, I knew this wasn’t a 999 emergency so I dialled 101. It was an automated answering service which suggested I pressed “hash” for other options, goodness knows what the operator thought cause I’d definitely got the giggles by then. 101 weren’t interested, the council deal with fly tipping. We’d decided not to hang around but saw some CRT guys who said they’d go the next day to remove them.
We were happy to leave our bags behind although we were still on a high having finally got cruising again this week. Fresh air and warm sunshine is enough of a fix for me. But oh boy, am I tired. We are now into double lock territory, and we haven’t had to do a double since the Braunston flight in October. My muscles are stiff and achey. There’s still hardly any boats moving and not only has every lock been set against us, the bottom gates are blowing open of their own accord and wouldn’t stay shut until there was water flow. It really is time I took the helm more. But that’s a challenge for another day.
At least as we made our way through Husband Bosworths tunnel it was dry.
And although it wasn’t sunny, the canal cut through an avenue of beech trees. 
And out into some open hilly Leicestershire countryside. 
To help warm me up I got out and walked.
Until we got to our overnight mooring at the top of Foxton Locks. This has to be one of my top ten views from the canals, sadly the camera doesn’t do it justice.
we woke to the most glorious of days, so decided to make the most of what autumn was left. Today was a true Codiwomple To travel in a purposeful manner towards a vague destination. We would take a detour just for the pleasure of cruising and venture down the short Welford Arm.
First though, it was with great amusement (and smugness) that we cruised underneath the A14
As anyone from Suffolk knows there are only 2 escape routes, the A12 and the A14, both long tedious roads that are too small for the volume of traffic using them. We had crawled the A14 many a time on our way up to Braidbar and frequently stopped off at Welford to refresh our sanity. Seeing the A14 from the canal is much much prettier. 
Mind you we did have a moment when we thought the canal would grind to a halt, we had “leaves on the line” 
More in the lock than on the trees,
Although what were left on the branches were pure gold.
Welford itself has a small marina basin at the end of the line, we were able to moor up and head for sustenance, this time enjoying a huge bowl of homemade soup, in Totty’s tearoom. It’s a tiny place and the as the owner/cook/waitress chatted to us, she got Eric summed up in one, and offered him a second bowl on the house. Silly man, he was too full for the best coffee and walnut cake I’ve had for a long time, not that it stopped him having a piece. The light was going as we got back to Firecrest so we didn’t walk around the village this time. But this little detour was worth it. We will be back again to visit Welford and to explore properly.
We spent a few days in the village, it has a Deli butcher who is enthusiastic about local produce. So we indulged in some good food. 
And I took advantage of the local footpaths to burn off some of that indulgence. 
I set out walking in the sunshine,
but got drenched on my way back. Although that Oak tree made a good shelter.
Crick is fortunate to have a lot of footpaths crying out to be walked, so setting out from our mooring we happily scaled the local Everest, Crack’s Hill. 
Ok it’s only a mere 25 m above the tow path, but it is the highest point locally and gives stunning views. That’s the DRIFT distribution centre you can see in the distance. 7.8 million sq feet of logistics. Amongst other things, it’s where several supermarkets gather their goodies before sending them onwards to fill the shelves. That’s progress for you. Many millennia ago, Crack’s Hill arrived when the ice age deposited debris as the glacier melted, which is how this landscape became what it is. There have been Neolithic bronze and iron age settlements discoverd here and the Romans also took advantage of this hill as it overlooked their Wattling Street route march. The names Crack and Crick are derived from the Celtic word Cruk which means hill. Crick village got a mention in the doomsday book.
I don’t know if this modern adornment will still be standing next millennia but the current community marked the start of the 21st century by erecting this beacon. I would have liked to have seen it lit.
There’s an active community in Crick that has raises money to create and maintain the local woodlands and public spaces. This year they have added a memorial commemorating 100 years of the end of WW1, I quite like that the area behind Tommy is rough ground.
However this time we emerged from the Crick tunnel and made straight for the Moorings pub for a pie and a pint. (Or in my case a rather tasty mediteranian fish stew)
We had plenty of time to explore this pretty area, while we took a few days to use of the Poste Restante mail service offered by the post office. 
The young farmers put on their annual bonfire and fireworks display for us. 
I harvested some crab apples from the millennium woods and made some jelly. 
And we met up with our new “best friend” the fuel man Mark on Calisto. Hopefully he’ll be keeping our tanks topped up over the few months. 
And finally here are our neighbours for the week.
Locks
stock
and tunnels. (This is Crick tunnel, nice and straight, if a bit drippy)
Even the Braunston tunnel didn’t cause us any problems. And we moored up in the woods on the Daventry side so I could walk down to Tescos for supplies.
Back out into the open again,
under the pretty bridge by the cottage, to turn onto the Leicester Line, enjoying the autumnal sunshine as we went. 
The next day we cruised at 3 miles an hour alongside the M1 going at at least 70mph, we passed the Watford Gap service station, (not worthy of a photo) a few miles before arriving at the Watford Flight. 
CRT is closing this flight for essential repair for 6 weeks before Christmas so we had to make our ascent before then. Unlike individual locks the Watford flight has 4 staircase locks, where each lock empties or fills from the adjacent lock, so if you dont open the paddles innthe right order you could end up flooded or stranded. Consequently there are volunteer lockies on duty to help you through. Its quite straight forward if you rememeber the rhyme
We both took our turn and enjoyed the day
We don’t particually like cruising through Braunston. It’s narrow and busy with bridges and bends. But it’s a lovely active village with good reasons to stop. So this time we moored on the north side, just before the Midland Chandlers water point, still on the North Oxford canal.
Last time we came this way our eyes were distracted by a burnt out shell of a boat, so we failed to appreciate what a lovely mooring spot this is. Although I think other canny boats have already marked the spot, it’s usually full up. Thankfully CRT have removed the dead boat which was a hazzard to us all.
After a few days, stocking up on Braunston Bangers at the butchers, and a few extra bits and bobs from Tradline, the rope emporium. We said our goodbyes to Braunston for this year. 
The sheep didn’t seem that bothered to see us go.