So we've been away for a couple of days. I'd like to say that we were too full from food, wine and beer to respond but, whilst we were full of food, wine and beer, we couldn't get an internet connection.
So then, here is the post that I wrote on the day following the last post.
We woke to grey skies on Monday and they stayed with us for the first half of the day. Still you know the old saying, "Grey skies in the morning, time to do the Hurleston Locks." Admitedly it's not the greatest saying in the world.
It didn't take long for us to complete the flight and we stopped for water at the top... right next door to manure central. The rest of the morning was a relaxed cruise up to Wrenbury. There are a lot of boats travelling in the opposite direction to us and this has been good with regard to the locks being set in our favour. We've passed quite a number of queues at locks going the other way. One of the interesting points this morning was how we managed to meet a boat on nearly every blind bend or bridge hole. If there was an awkward place to pass a boat you can be sure we met on there. Personally I think they've read the blog and were waiting in ambush for us. Having said that, you may be the only person that reads this and so I could be wrong. In any case, thanks for joining us, it's lovely to have you.
We stopped at Wrenbury to stock up on some bread and milk. For some reason my kids like to eat which means there's that annoying tasks of having to buy more stuff. As I write this my daughter Maisy is sitting next to me half eating a cheese-string and half drapping it down the back of my neck. The captain went off to keep the crew stocked up but the shop at Wrenbury was closed. We headed off again, stopping the traffic for a while at the electrically operated lift bridge and the sun came out for the rest of the afternoon.
The next major attraction on route was the Grindley Brook staircase locks. Again we were lucky as we went straight in to the bottom lock, with the lock keeper on hand to assist us. As I rose from the depths of the lock I suddenly became a star attraction with about 30 gongoozelers standing at the side of the lock watching. There was much pointing at the water and explaining things to small children, although they might have been saying, "look little Billy, a dead fish".
We stopped for the night on the mooring by bridge 43, right next door to a dairy farm. The cows were being milked as we tied up and we making one heck of a noise. Still, after they had been sucked dry, everything was quiet. It was our intention to set off to the Waggoners Inn which is about 100 yards away from the bridge in the tiny village. On walking there one of the residents asked if we were headed to the pub. When we replied yes he let us know that it was no longer there as it had burned down 15 months ago. Either we don't have the latest Pearson's guide or it hasn't been updated yet. As we walked back to the boat the farmer also told us that it had burned down. Clearly big news in these parts and I'm surprised not to have seen any mention of it on Sky News. Emergency spagetti bolognese ended up on the menu.
We are now continuing our journey towards Wales.