On the move (not that 70s literature programme)

We got out of the marina without hitting anyone and Lisa, being the big brave soldier that she is, hid under the duvet until I was safely out. Terri is also with us but she doesn't get out of her pjs all day so there's no help there. The journey was uneventful if blustery. We had our first sighting of Gosty Hill at Atherstone top lock and took the opportunity to buy a bag of coal for those chilly evenings. Meeting them will be a regular event over the winter months. We overnighted at The Anchor just outside Nuneaton so as I could savor my first pint of real ale for a while. The first of many methinks.

Logjam on the Ashby (if there is such a thing)

Our aim is to take it easy and make our way to the Ashby Canal by Monday ready in position for Shakerstone Festival the following weekend. This was canceled last year due to the weather so hopefully this year things go a little better. A little British beer may go down quite well after all that French wine. No matter how fine it is you cannot beat a pint of real ale (real ale seems to figure quite a lot in my life).

Derelect swing bridge. Why?
I always love this telegraph pole just outside Nuneaton. The rest have all been cut down. What happened here? Why was this one left? You can still see the remains of several others now usually used as fence posts.

Tonight we're just outside Sutton Cheney on the Ashby where we used to live. Did I say that this wasn't going to be a cruising blog? It sounds very much like it up to now.

This blogger thing is quite difficult to edit properly. In my head it has a better layout than this. Maybe it's operator error.

Home again

A rare picture of an imprisoned Pickles. Soon to be released (please note the firewood on the roof again. How could I have any credibility as a continuous cruiser without the wood on the roof).

We are now back on Poverty Rock after three months in sunnier climes (at least for me. Lisa was in France for six weeks). We've gone from being respectable, law abiding, land owning, businesspeople to being scum, don't pay a penny for the waterways, uninsured, unlicensed, liveaboard boaters. It's amazing what a short boat journey ac cross the Channel can do for a persons reputation. Back in the land of the perpetually poor, we are bringing freedom to poor old Pickles who has been sadly neglected for the past couple of months in Alvacote Marina. She's still not finished and won't be this year either but we may get a little more completed this year.

I did promise that I would update the blog when away but other things took priority and I didn't get round to it in the end. C'est la vie. I've got to get my rating back and get myself up to number thirty on the boaters roll where I quite rightly belong. Why are there eighty six people on my audience figures? Why am I number forty six on the ratings? I haven't updated this for months.

So what's been happening. Who's dead, who's sunk their boat, who's got themselves hung up in a lock and who's new to this boating malarkey? I would normally read about twenty five or thirty narrowboat blog entries per day but our interweb connection in France was awful so I lost track soon after arriving and never caught up again. The last time I looked there were over 1000 entries on my Google Reader thingy and I shan't be getting to read all those.

Just to remind those of you who read this drivel, this is not a cruising log. I don't know how many hours I do each day (if any) or how many locks or bridges I've gone through or how many gallons of fuel I put in or how much it costs or how many engine hours to the next oil change. I really don't care. This is the minutia of life that is uninteresting to me. This blog is all about my ego. my opinion, my politics, my interests, my boat and my partner (the long suffering Lisa). So don't expect a list of all the above 'cause you won't get one. I write this amuse myself, not you.