Sunday 1 September 2019

Still sweltering on our way to Banbury


Tuesday 27th August; on to Banbury and another scorching day
It was blissfully cool when we left just before 8.  There had been mist when we got up but it was soon gone.


A boat appeared behind us, then as we came through Aynho one pulled out in front so there was a queue at Aynho lock.  Luckily for us – and the other boater, a singlehander – one was emerging from Nell Bridge lock, reducing the work level considerably, especially for him.  This is the lock where you have to cross a busy main road between lock landing and the gates, and the towpath switches sides too.  We dropped into the Pig Place for some eggs, managing not to be tempted by the bacon sarnies being cooked.  The hawthorn berries are colouring up – there will be a feast for the birds this autumn.


The fields of flax, which were blue in July, are golden brown and nearly ready for harvest.  See that wonderful sky!


Once more it was a boiling hot day, one for hats, sunscreen and plenty of cool drinks.  It seems odd to be writing this at home, now the temperature has dropped markedly!  At Twyford, a combine harvester (at least some kind of harvester) was inching slowly across the bridge, but still too quickly for my fumbling camera fingers.


It was a day for helping single-handers – we encountered several, but there were ‘extras’ too.  On the boat in front of us, the wife was recovering from a broken hip, and at King’s Sutton we encountered a boat coming down where the lady crew had got off without her windlass, made a half-hearted attempt to open a gate then got back on her boat as soon as I started to help – leaving me and the lady from 2 boats back to lock them through.  At least they said thanks.  Before we reached Banbury, we enjoyed the last of the countryside before we got to the building site.  Some of the harvest is already in.  I liked these stripes.


We found a good patch of shade on the Tramway moorings for a trip to Morrison’s, and then lunch.  It had been sweltering since mid-morning, with a humid and enervating heat.  We moved on to the lock, mooring on the water point above it for water and easy access to the occupied facilities below the lock.  A couple of chaps were trying to manoeuvre the bloated corpse of a muntjac through the lock without it getting crushed by a boat.  It had been floating about getting stinkier and stinkier throughout the day, and in spite of various phone calls, the council and security men had ignored their pleas.  So they took matters into their own hands, and borrowed a boat pole to get it out of the way.  Then on we went through the dismal central moorings.


Mooring has been suspended for a long stretch on the Castle Quays side.  It will remain so until October.  But the towpath is open, so in spite of the building works alongside I can see no reason for suspension.  Nor can some other boaters, as some bollards were in use.


We crossed our fingers for a space at Spiceball Park and found empty moorings near the footbridge, where it has more shade and less noise from the factories than further back.  We have been surprised how easy mooring has been on this trip – we have obviously struck a lucky time between the flurries of hire-boats.

As I walked Meg in the park, the sun slowly disappeared behind hazy cloud, and dark clouds were looming.  There were a few light dampenings of the air, before it hammered down.  It didn’t do anything for the humid heat inside the boat – it got worse, if anything, as of course the cratch and side hatch had to be closed – and I ended up on the stern deck in my bare feet with the umbrella, just to get a breath of air.   


After it stopped the temperature gradually reduced.  There were a lot of boats on the move now, but most didn’t stop.

8 miles, 5 locks, 1 lift bridge, 1 malodorous dead deer.

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