Tag: Cows

Let’s go to Lymm

“…Shall we hang around at Anderton or shall we nip up to Lymm for a few days?” Bit of a no brainer really. The canal is relatively quiet, probably due to the Bridgewater Breach blocking navigation so unless you’re happy to wind and retrace your steps, what’s the point of travelling this way…. because in spring it’s alive with new growth and full of potential.

Especially in the sunshine

Entering Preston Brook tunnel

Even the storm clouds lend sense of anticipation

Although I wont deny I wasn’t relieved to see a clear sunrise

We ran the gauntlet of a fishing competition. Sorry guys

We waved and tooted our horn for the kiddies crossing the bridge

And we discovered narrowboats arent the only floating home, although im not sure a floating nest is the safest abode for your chicks

And when it comes to transporting your animals and your business, this mobile florist had set up her stall in Lymm, her pet pooch even had its own sunshade

Lymm ticks all the boxes for us to declare it a holiday destination

Centred around the 17th century stone cross, the village itself was a hive of activity. Originally agriculture was the predominant occupation, but a Slitting Mill also produced iron nails for the wider community. The arrival of the canal in the 1750’s again increased the prosperity of the growing town. And during the industrial revolution trade became focused on cloth, with the production of fustian, a fabric similar to corduroy. I’ve written about Lymm in several previous posts if you want to know more.

But like us the Victorians recognised its charms and escaped here to stroll through the leafy woodland around the dam

While we were walking around Lymm dam, we saw our first cygnets of the year.

And coots on the canal

And of course as we were in holiday mood, we got to dine out. Someone was celebrating her birthday and the waiter got to hear about it, so my dessert arrived in style. There are several nice restaurants in Lymm, this time we chose Elmas, who make the nicest Tiramisu I’ve had in a while

But alas, we had to get back to the Paintshed so we couldnt linger longer at Lymm, back through more lovely leafy bridges

Under magnificent trees,

And past curious cows

back for one last mooring on this particularly pretty stretch of the Trent and Mersey Canal, before we get our necessary jobs done.

This week’s cruising has been a real pleasure.

Well Well Well

Back in the day, (1500 years ago give or take) the area we are cruising in now, was in the Kingdom of Mercia, the post Roman, Anglo Saxon region, not the rather trendy Marina south of Derby.

Wiki’s identification of Mercia

It’s a bit hard to pin down the specifics as literacy didn’t seem to take priority over Kingdom building.  And to be honest, I still can’t make sense of who owned what or when. But if you look on Google maps there’s a purple historical landmark pin where we are moored. Well, well, well, as soon as the rain had stopped I needed to go and investigate. Right next to the canal is where you will find St Rufin’s Well.

St Rufin’s Well

Alas, it’s not all that remarkable at first sight,

But it still has water in it

And there was a nice circular route around the buttercup meadow, through the hamlet of Burston that would get me back to Firecrest.

Burston pond

Next to the village pond was an info board that told me a bit about St Rufin’s Well and the little chapel tucked away behind the cottages.

Rufin and his older brother Wulfad were the sons of the Pagan King Wulfhere.  They had the “good fortune” to meet a prominent monk called Chad who converted them to Christianity. It is believed they were baptised here, in this well. However their father the king was furious and ordered them to be killed, an action he immediately regretted. He went on to meet with Chad and was also converted to Christianity. Chad went on to become the Bishop of Mercia, and both he, Rufin and Wulfad were all canonized for their martyrdom. This all happened in the 7th century and there are many legends and storys about what went on at this time.  The power struggles between the Christians and the pagans led to many more slaughters. St Rufin’s Well was also known as the Druids well.
Whilst I was out researching a bit of history, Eric was communicating with his porthole spirit. Just like Aladin polishing his lamp, Eric was polishing his brass when his genie appeared.

Double trouble

This is obviously a spiritual place, there are many churches and memorials dedicated to Rufin, Wulfad and Chad, and there is a recognised pilgrimage walk between Lichfield and Chester cathedrals.

Spring in our step

Time to push on. After two lovely days enjoying James and Helen’s company we set them off Firecrest as we reached the Meccano Bridge so  they could walk home along the Valley Park footpath.

The Meccano Bridge over the disused railway

we were passing through some lovely rural countryside, through Penkridge, (great butchers and bakery), up through the Tixall wides and onto the Trent and Mersey canal

just one of the lovely bridges

although it did get a bit narrow in places, even the ducks thought it safer to stick to the towpath, hope we don’t meet anyone coming the other way

Thank goodness for passing places

But it wasnt all narrow, sometimes we had to duck as well

we met some thirsty cows

and some frolicking lambs

And some wagging wagtails

We also encountered a very aggressive swan at Weston, it chased us off its patch for over quarter mile, it even tried biting Eric’s leg. Funnily enough, we had the same thing happen 2 years ago in exactly the same spot. It must be the same swan-athough they all look alike to me,

If he’d asked nicely we’d have given him a lift

resting newly unfurled wings

We seem to have settled into spring at last

we had a night on the Tixall wides but with it being a bank holiday weekend we decided to take the first available mooring, which was peaceful and just as pretty

enjoying the wides.

Lechlade at Last


By mid morning our batteries were fully charged, (we don’t charge overnight) After a chat with Matt the lockie, to pay our dues, we were escorted by a swan towards Lechlade. It wouldn’t be a long trip, we could see the spire of St Lawrence church under a mile away.

Leaving St John’s for the final leg into Lechlade

Although we were a bit worried as we approached Lechlade, the swans were getting dangerously large.

Beware, of the wildlife in Lechlade

Lechlade is known to boaters for its offside mooring, which is shared by a herd of cattle. Now don’t get me wrong, I love a steak dinner, but I don’t particularly fancy becoming the steak’s dinner. And there’s many tales of the cows chewing ropes and licking paintwork and occasionally even stepping onto the deck. This herd isn’t aggressive, just inquisitive, but the canny boaters come armed with an electric fence to give a bit of space. However we saw a space at the bottom of The New Inn’s pub garden, and preferring a pint of beer to a pint of milk, we opted to moor as patrons, and enjoy the antics of the cows from a safe distance.

Perhaps its not just the cows we need to watch out for

We were well rewarded with antics when one of the cows got too close to the edge and had fallen in. The combination of the current and the steep bank meant that the cow was struggling to climb out. Some well meaning walkers called the firebrigade who dutifully turned up to assess the situation only to discover that she had climbed out unaided further downstream. They didn’t seem to mind, there wasn’t a lot else going on on a chilly grey bank holiday.

Thats a lot of cows

We left them to it and went to explore the village, stopping at the Fish and Chip shop

The fish and chips were worth stopping for

It had been a goal to reach Lechlade for some years now, as it holds fond childhood memories. I think I was about 7 when I helped my dad build a Canadian canoe. We then drove from our home in Liverpool to Trewsbury Mead, near Cirencester to see the spring which is hailed to be the source of this great River, in those days Old Father Thame’s statue still marked the spot until he was moved to St Johns lock in 1974. Its actually one of several springs in the area, but its unusual to see water flowing from it.

Photo taken from Thames Head Wiki page

We continued our homage in our VW combi, following the growing river for about 15 miles through pretty Cotswold villages until we reached Lechlade, the first navigable section, where we set off as a family of four, mum, dad me and my younger brother paddling our way down to Windsor, pitching our tent to camp along the way. (We’d actually launched, ie tested it was water tight, the canoe in the Leeds and Liverpool canal at Lydiate.) Such a pity I don’t have any photos of this transformative holiday. However I do have some lovely memories. Eric and I walked up to the Round House which marks the joining point of the Thames and Severn canal with the river, which is probably the spot where we launched our canoe.

The roundhouse (former lock keepers cottage) at Lechlade

Sadly the weather, and being on patrons only mooring didn’t motivate us to stay more than one night in Lechlade, and depending upon how our Thames adventure pans out we might well come back to explore this pretty place.

Looking down from the bridge to us moored at the New Inn

Advisory note… this post contains Cows

We’re watching you


We spent 5 nights on Loughborough Moor at Miller’s bridge, along with 3 other boats but still had enough considerate spacing between each boat for us to think this would be a peaceful mooring. “Oh no” said our nearest neighbour, “You wait until the cows arrive…..” I looked out shortly and saw this beautiful lady taking a drink,

Mirror mirror on the floor

Then the whole herd wandered over the bridge to join her

Here come the family

And just after teatime, the farmer arrived as well. He called over to apologise because they were going to be very noisy overnight as some of them had just been separated from their calves.

And the farmer

Dusk fell and it was a beautiful sunset, but not a cow or moo to be seen or heard.

Only bird song to disturb the peace


They had the good grace to spend the night over on the far side of the field, but sure enough at 5 am they emerged from the mist mooing mournfully.

Waking at dawn has its advantages

The farmer is very very caring. He comes into the field twice a day with a bucket of treats for them so that he can check them over. The canal/river is narrow enough at this point for us to hold a conversation, so as they tucked into their supper I learnt a bit about these beautiful pure Herefords and how to spot the Hereford/Holstein crosses.

Bottoms up

I wish I could share the video I took of them running to greet him. Much better than most modern TV comedy. But when he’s not around they do plod sedately

That must be delivermoo calling us

One afternoon we heard them making quite a commotion. I was a bit worried one might have fallen in whilst taking a drink.

Don’t fall in

But no, hidden by the longer grass, ones of them was giving birth. So on our last day on the Moor we were treated to watching a 1 day old calf frolicking. And if I thought that running cows were funny running calves are hilarious.

The little one hasn’t learnt to pose for the camera yet

I was quite sorry to say goodbye to them.