Once again this highly skilled crew (John, Colin, Tom and me [Roger]) have the opportunity of some pre-May training by moving Johnners’ boat north. This year we are taking Waitangi from Cowroast (near Tring) on the Grand Union Canal to near Solihull on the Stratford Canal. All of us now being free of our working shackles we are not confined to a 7 day, Saturday – Friday trip.
Wednesday 16th The start of the venture is overshadowed by the news of Ron’s accident, the implications of which are to be a regular source of discussion. John picked up Tom at Charlton station and me at home and we are whizzing round the M25 when Colin rings to say he is on a train from Rugby to Watford Junction (a free ride as it turned out) having left his car at Braunston. We divert and pick him at the station and somehow we all squeeze in amongst luggage and the shopping we picked up at my local Tesco. Thankfully it’s a fairly short journey from here to the boat. Cowroast lies at the canal summit as it crosses the Chilterns and there’s not much there apart from a pub (not visited), car dealer, a few houses and a marina. Waitangi is moored a hundred yards or so from the bridge so John leaves his car in the marina and we unload and get everything on board. We had a fairly gentle start to the journey with 7 locks at the end of the day just to get us in the mood. First stop was Marsworth, a small town lying on a sharp bend of the canal boasting three pubs. We began at the Angler’s Retreat which offered the excellent local brew, Tring Side Pocket for a Toad. After a few pints we walked through town to the Red Lion which offered another local brew, Vale bitter. Sadly this ran out almost immediately so we were left with a choice of a Rebellion beer, Brakspear and London Pride. We stayed until closing time and walked back to the boat along the canal.
Thursday
The weather was fairly bright but it was quite chilly and we all packed on layers of clothing. First thing I failed the observation test by walking right past a tap while looking for a water point. Lunch stop was Slapton (not far from the site of the Great Train Robbery) and a half mile or so walk took us to the Carpenters Arms, an attractive thatched pub. Sadly the beer range was limited to mainstream brews and we settled for London Pride. We would have eaten lunch here but for the excessive prices, which possible was why the pub was so quiet. In the afternoon we were warmed by soup and bacon sandwiches (separately) as we drove through Leighton Buzzard. We stopped at Three Locks and watched a woman with a rowing dinghy fill numerous water bottles. As the pub only sold GK IPA we walked a mile and a half uphill to the village of Great Brickhill to drink in the Old Red Lion. This was a pleasant village local with a superb view from the back garden. Sadly the beer range here was also limited and we were on Brakspears most of the evening. The food was good though (we ate out almost every evening). On the way back John was offered a lift by one of the pub regulars, which he was too polite to decline.
Friday
Dry but chilly again as we drove through the sprawl of Milton Keynes. Colin and John saw a heron close up with an 8inch orange fish (carp or goldfish perhaps) which it swallowed in front of them. We stopped at Great Linford at a pub shown in the book as the Proud Perch but which had reverted to the Black Horse. This was hard to tell from the towpath since, despite being right by the canal, the pub seems to have turned its back on it. This is one excuse for the somewhat tortuous route by which we gained access. Inside it was most definitely not aimed at muddy boaters, being quite upmarket and full of the more affluent MK citizens. But it did sell an agreeable pint of Landlord and even us scruffy ‘erberts were made welcome. We left the pub by the orthodox route and continued north. On the way Tom had a senior moment when a phantom boat hit him from behind and propelled the boat towards a parked boat. A teenager nearly fell in after slipping on the chopped logs on the top his boat as he rushed to fend us off. Fortunately, Tom managed to recover from his daydream in time. Our evening destination was the Navigation at Thrupp Wharf outside Cosgrove. As Tom brought the boat into the bank John got off the front but omitted to take the rope with him. This disconcerted Tom so much that he made a complete pig’s ear of mooring. With the boat safely attached to the canal bank we strolled over to the pub. This was obviously aimed at the car/food trade and was in the grip of GK, despite some of the ales being badged as ‘Morland’ or ‘Hardy & Hanson’. Following Tom and John’s efforts shortly before, Colin got in on the act by elbowing a hapless customer out of the way at the bar and then berating his choice of newspaper. Food was again not bad and there was a live acoustic act in the adjoining room to entertain us. Just to round off the evening, a ‘lady’ from a boat moored opposite ours came across to have a pop at us for our poor mooring efforts. She was obviously a nutter lacking a sense of humour or basic social skills (and good eyesight as she thought John had been driving) and even John’s claims that it was our first time on the canals cut no ice. Sadly another woman joined in who had been cycling past us on the towpath at the crucial moment to identify Tom as the guilty driver.
Saturday
We slunk away early while no one was looking. It was as cold ever as we ascended the locks at Stoke Bruerne (all the GU locks were wide ones). Then we entered Blisworth Tunnel (3057 yards) which was extremely wet in parts. At the north end we stopped and walked into Blisworth village, picking up some vital shopping while we waited for the pub to open. Debatable that this was time well spent since the Royal Oak was a fairly run down pub with few customers and only London Pride and GK IPA.
So far this had all been new boating territory for us all but we got back on old routes at Gayton Junction. By the now light rain had set in and we were thankful that there were no locks on this stretch. (The author neglects to mention in this narrative that he hit a moored boat, with owner on board on this stretch, his excuse, a touch of wind) We stopped at Weedon and headed for the town centre. We had begun to walk uphill when I recalled that on our last visit the town had been flooded and we were therefore probably not going the right way. With normal service restored we found ourselves with a choice of two pubs: the Plume of Feathers which had just two strong ales on tap, and the Maltsters Arms which threatened an 80s disco later in the evening. The Maltsters did offer Taylors Golden Best so we had a couple here before decamping to the PoF just in time for last food orders. Despite our brinkmanship we were given a friendly welcome and the food was tasty and warming, washed down by a pint of Broadside. Then we went back to the Maltsters for the disco, just to confirm that the 80s were crap for music! It also stayed open much later.
Sunday
Cold and damp again. We had 7 locks this morning and we shared these with an elderly couple, the female half of which being a highly skilled navigator and we all took careful note. The male told us he had only drunk once in his life, as an 18 year old in the army, and had got ill enough to be put off for life. We were not to be deterred and having refreshed the boat it was our turn. At the top of the locks is the New Inn at Buckby Wharf, scene of the awards ceremony at the end of the 1998 trip (Hinesy made a name for himself with his consumption of cheapo 6X). The pub was warm and dry and offered a decent choice of beers including Frog Island bitter from Northampton. This went down a treat and we enjoyed a leisurely few pints.
The afternoon featured another tunnel – Braunston (2042 yards) – and 6 more locks before we tied up outside Braunston marina. We walked up into the village and into the Old Plough. This offered Black Sheep bitter and Jennings Cumberland and we ate in here as we weren’t sure if any of the any pubs in town did food on Sunday evenings. We had thought about trying the other pubs after eating but it turned out that it was quiz night so we had to participate. The quiz was in three parts and we won the general knowledge section, our prize being £1 off a pint, this quickly being cashed in.
Monday
This was car moving day and Colin and John set off for Cowroast; then took the two cars to the boatyard where would finish; then travelled by bus and train to Leamington Spa where they shopped and lunched in a Wetherspoons. Meanwhile Tom and I moved the boat west. We stopped at the Boat at Stockton for a couple of pints of Hooky bitter before tackling the 10 Stockton locks. It’s not so easy working these wide locks with just 2 of you, especially as the paddles are hard work in these parts; but we got though in well under two hours. By the time we tied up at Long Itchington the sun was shining and it was quite warm so we strolled the 20 yards or so to the Two Boats and sat outside with our pints of Adnams. Meanwhile Colin and John were being given a tour of the area by an errant cab driver who took them first to the Boat at Stockton before finally locating the right pub. Once we were all sorted we walked up into the village to the Harvester, which we would rate as our best pub of the trip. This is a real old village local with Hooky bitter and a guest – Wye Valley 4x4 on our visit. The food was really good and exceptional value; and served by an elderly lady wearing pink shoes! As the evening wore on Colin and I thought we might try the Duck on the Pond round the corner, which had been Camra’s local pub of the year last year. When we got there we realised it was shut and unfortunately Tom and John had left the Harvester before we got back. We humbly returned to be told that the Duck is now a gastropub and closed Mondays! This gave us the chance of a couple more pints and a chat with the landlord and his son (?) who were most affable.
Tuesday
The weather was fine again as we continued down a series of locks, mostly accompanied by two couples on a hire boat. We stopped in Leamington Spa, opposite a boarded up pub in a housing estate. Having secured the boat as best we could we walked the 5 minutes or so to the Red House. This is another excellent traditional old pub with four handpumped beers, our choice being Hooky bitter. The pub also boasts a large garden to which we repaired to enjoy our beer in the sunshine. We got back to the boat to find it fully intact. We had a very short afternoon’s journey to Warwick with just a couple of locks to amuse us. We also stopped for a pump out (a lengthy process since the tank was somewhat clogged) and for diesel. This was to be the one day we ate dinner on the boat, John having rustled up a tasty pasta Bolognese (somewhere along the line he had also cooked kedgeree for breakfast). The canal passes round the outskirts of Warwick so we had a bit of a hike into town. Eventually we called into the Maltsters Arms which had four beers on tap, but nothing exciting. We plumped for London Pride, on which opinions varied. Whatever, we had passed a pub a few doors down which looked promising, so we had just the one here before moving to the Oak. This consists of one long room, at the far end of which a ladies darts match was in progress. The beer choice included Purity Pure Gold, brewed in Warwick and very pleasant; there was also a beer called Oak bitter which we deduced was brewed by Morlands. The pub was run by a young lady who was very pleasant. Apart from Tom, we sat at the bar and watched the Liverpool v Chelsea European match on the tv, but returned to our seats prematurely, thus missing the last minute own goal.
Wednesday
Rain first thing, none too welcome with the 21-lock Hatton flight on the morning’s agenda. We hung around and enjoyed a warming bowl of Tom’s porridge before setting off and the rain soon eased and the weather brightened. For most of the flight we were joined by our friends from the day before, which eased the workload. We stopped at the top of the flight and walked back down a few locks and then up to the Waterman. We visited this pub back in 1994 when it was fairly run down (and the pub dog chewed Ken’s hat); since then it has been considerably smartened and is very definitely aimed at the food trade. However, it did offer 3 locally brewed beers, two from Slaughterhouse in Warwick, the other from Weatheroak (last encountered at the Weighbridge in Alvechurch). It being another fine afternoon we sat outside on the veranda to enjoy our pints and the expansive view across the canal and Warwickshire countryside. Highlight of the afternoon was passing the spot where Ken fell in the canal. We held a brief memorial service before stopping the boat for the night just short of Kingswood Junction. Now it was time for the real highlight of the trip: a long-awaited return to the Navigation at Lapworth. On arrival we were confronted with a notice saying that the pubs was closed for a private party…the following evening! Inside the pub had not noticeably changed and there was a decent choice of beers including Holdens bitter and Deuchars IPA. Not the cheapest pub of the trip but not the most expensive either. Mind you we were turfed out fairly sharpish at closing time so the locals could enjoy some afters in peace!
Thursday
Soon after 7 o’clock it began to rain and by 8 it was fairly chucking it down. We had time on our side so we breakfasted first. We turned off at the junction, then north on the Stratford Canal and the 19 Lapworth Locks. It was a pleasant change to be on narrow locks. The weather was changeable but mostly sunny that morning and despite our delayed start it was still not quite noon when we stopped at Hockley Heath for lunch. The pub here, the Wharf Tavern, was smart and foody, but there was a more basic drinking area, and the beers included Kinver Edge and Wye Valley Butty Bach. The Kinver beer was particularly nice. John popped out to buy a paper just as the heavens opened again. We had a very short run in the afternoon, to a speck on the map called Warings Green where can be found the Blue Bell Cider House.The pub has its own mooring stage and there was enough room for our boat. As I carefully manoeuvred into the space we made marginal contact with the neighbouring boat as John fended off. A lady stuck her head out of the door and moaned at me for bashing against her boat. “It’s had a £2,000 paint job!” she ranted “you might at least say you’re sorry!” Well, I was sorry we were mooring next to such an obnoxious whingeing boater but I kept this opinion to myself. The pub is a large and rambling affair and remarkably busy for one in such a remote location. There didn’t seem to be much in the way of cider, just Bulmers on handpump, but there were two draught bitters, Thwaites Thoroughbred Gold and Ringwoods. The food here was really good and again sensibly priced. John produced a pack of cards and we played some of the old favourites such as black widow & twizzle.
Friday
I had to forgo my usual early morning leak over the side in case I corroded Mrs Grumpy’s paint work. We got away before she could complain that the wash from our boat was putting a strain on her ropes. We had a couple of hours run with no locks, the only distraction being an electronic lift bridge; James would have been very disappointed at the paltry number of vehicles held up. And so we reached the boatyard where Waitangi would stay for the next couple of weeks before being taken further north. Just a question of sorting things out at the office, moving our stuff from the boat into the cars and heading home. |
