A blot on the landscape

Wednesday 17^th July; radio masts to Napton

This is a lovely spot, one of the best on the South Oxford.  Moored a little further on from us was this boat, with an ‘impossible’ name – I wonder if the owners are two mathematicians?

We left soon after 9, in hot sunshine.

Looking back at our lovely mooring

We dawdled our way along the summit level, deciding this was perfect boating – a bit of a breeze to temper the sun, beautiful views, birdsong, wild flowers …what could be more wonderful?  Certainly not THIS!

Preparing for HS2

The vehicle might look like a farm tractor, but was twice the size and had a massive blade underneath to level the earth.  I wonder how the noise of HS2 will affect our lovely mooring?  We still haven’t looked up the full route, but this stretch of the canal will certainly lose some of its attractiveness.

Quite a few boats were coming towards us by now, some on bends and in bridgeholes, naturally.  It was a good thing we were going at little more than tickover as we needed to avoid the shallow edges.  As we got to Marston Doles we caught up with a boat going down, and one soon arrived behind us.  With boats coming up too, and everyone helping each other, it was easy work in spite of the heat and humidity.  At lock 13 was a notice about damage.

Someone has given that a bit of a wallop, haven’t they?  We pulled in between locks 12 and 11 for lunch, and when we spotted the first of the post-lunch rush at lock 11, we were off again.  Once more the work was shared, though below lock 10 the water levels were very low and Dave only just got over the cill.  We reported it to the CRT men at the bottom lock – they were about to go up to sort it out.  There wasn’t space for us above the lock, so we dropped down, stopped at the Elsan for the necessaries, then went across to the water point.  I strolled over to the pub to see if they had ice-creams – but nothing!  Now the little shop by the pub has closed, it is the village shop or nothing.  So, after finding a part-shaded mooring round the corner, we set off up to the village and had a pleasant time eating our ice-creams at the tables outside the shop and watching the world go by.

As we were getting ready to go to the pub, this little flotilla went by.  11 little bumble-bees!  I wonder how long they will all survive?

We had to eat outside as the tables inside were fully booked.  It started to rain so we and the other diners all went under the big marquee.  Dave’s chicken pie was outstandingly good, but my spinach canneloni was less successful.  Pie for me next time!

9 locks, 5½ miles