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.