Living on a boat means that you are surrounded by swans, ducks, signets and ducklings. We were especially taken with a tiny yellow duckling, christened ‘The Chosen One’ and then ‘The Golden Child’.
Going to grab the bowl of cornflakes that we are using as bird food the bowl fell to the floor smashing into numerous shards of pottery. Our £350 damage deposit is now in danger
I go to explore Middlewich, which Martin had advised would take all of ½ an hour.
A place dating back to Roman times, a centre of salt production for thousands of years, a busy transport hub in the canal age. There must be a story to tell and much to see.
Sadly not.
It is a true one horse town and to prove it, here is the horse:
So another late and leisurely start, but we are only planning to go 10 miles to Barbridge Junction. Vera’s steering is slowly improving, though she still doesn’t feel confident that she can steer a straight course. A lot of zig-zagging is involved, but the zigs and the zags are getting less extreme.
And the locks are getting less scary, as they become more familiar
We failed to top up our water at Cholmoneston lock, and are now living in fear of running dry.
Luckily Vera is a dirty girl who doesn’t shower often, so we may make it to the next water point at bridge 122 without running out.
A very good evening meal at the Barbridge Inn.
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