To complete my bionic man R had an appointment at the dentist this morning to replace his missing front tooth (another story!) so he set off on foot early from the Holiday Inn for a trip to North Camp station and then back to Guildford where I met him with all the luggage to board a train to Clapham Junction. Saying goodbye to wifi, electricity, baths and warmth was a tad hard but at least I felt excited at the thought of returning to the boat. Waiting on CJ platform for the train to Berkhamstead (weekdays you don’t have to go via London which is much simpler especially with all that luggage!) it was eerily quiet compared to normal. Where are all the people? There were more rail staff than people on the platforms! It really makes you wonder how the public transport system is going to recover. The almost empty carriages are such a far cry from normality. After a straightforward journey back, we arrived to find the boat in one piece, if a bit wet and damp. Amazing how much condensation builds up on the inside of all the windows when away for a few days. Unfortunately the pool of water in the bedroom is still evident, if not a bit worse and the water meter on the boat looks quite low considering we haven’t been around to use it, suggesting that we might have a leak in the plumbing system. Added to the fact it is listing slightly towards the towpath – looks like we will have to contact James and see what is to be done. We don’t want to finish up like our sunken neighbour, although I think the boat has been abandoned a while! It is quite an issue for the Canal and River trust – the boats that are left to rot along the canalside. But for us, once our boat is warm and cosy we settle in for an early night pleased to be back.
Going anywhere near a hospital makes R nervous, probably due to the amount of time over the years he has ended up in a hospital bed. So he left the Holiday Inn to walk to the Nuffield (fyi varicose veins are no longer available on the NHS unless you are in considerable pain!) feeling rather anxious. 3 hours later a much happier man emerged. Meanwhile I went for a walk around the outside of Guildford catherdral and just managed to escape the rain that followed, relieved to be outside! As we had no car R had to walk back to the hotel (walking lots is encouraged after a vv procedure). Asked to describe what it felt like he said ‘imagine running through a bramble hedge with running shorts on’ – it was more uncomfortable than he had anticipated. So he spent the afternoon resting and then recovering with more TV and a takeaway from one Guildford’s Indian restaurants, rated No 1 on tripadvisor. It was delicious.
For me another walk in the afternoon with a friend who had kindly collected prescriptions, post and my stash of Christmas cards to write (discovered earlier in the year in the loft when I had a good clear out!). The post included a new pair of short wellies – last week I found out the hard way that the pair I had on the boat, and had solidly been wearing day in day out were splitting and letting in both water and mud. And a new hat for R. You may remember we have had a bit of an issue with hats, feeling especially sad that R’s Australian wide brimmed rainhat went overboard along with him. So a bit of extra luggage to take back to the already full boat.
Our day of isolation started with a birthday zoom for a friend’s 60th and then we watched Midsomer Murders, Morse and James Bond. In the evening I played bridge online. R meanwhile settled into his day in a hotel room and didn’t find it so bad afterall! It is certainly a treat to have copious hotwater and a full size bath tub! Although I bought a lot of cold food with us it is reassuring to know we can have a hot meal from room service. A limited choice. R really fancied a big mac – I wasn’t sure I had seen that on the menu but didn’t argue. He was rather surprised to be faced with a steaming bowl of macaroni cheese – ‘mac’n cheese’ he discovered is not the same as a ‘big mac’!
We are so blessed to have the digital age. I know at times it doesn’t seem like it but it can be a lifeline if you are not allowed outside your four walls. A new way of keeping connected. Since our trip started I have been asked by a few friends’ adult children if I could video record a birthday greeting for their respective mums. When my mum was in her nursing home during the first lockdown I had 2 Skype calls a week with her and my siblings. As we are fairly scattered geographically she would never have seen so much of us, nor enjoyed the sibling banter that often arises. And the regular weekly Zoom I now have with a group of friends is one of the highlights of my week!
So there really isn’t much to say on day 1 of isolation except we are now in a smaller space than on the narrowboat! R, who always allows me ‘blue’ days or ‘duvet’ days when I am feeling down, is having one himself, which is very unusual and I am not quite sure how to handle it. Having the Covid test this morning went OK but the thought of not being allowed out doesn’t suit his personality. I meanwhile, am quite happy to wallow in a bath, watch TV all day or play bridge online!
It’s a sobering thought. We only have to be here 2 days. Think of all those people in flats with no garden; with young children who need entertaining; the elderly who have no one to visit and anyone living alone. The reality of lockdown and all its rumifications – the hit to the economy, the redundancies and failed businesses. The anxiety of leaving the safety of your own four walls battling the unknown of an invisible virus and all the misinformation that adds to the fear.
And then the positives – all those going the extra mile to keep us safe. The dedication of our hospital workers from cleaners, porters and caterers to admin and hands on care workers, nurses and doctors. All those working in the supermarkets and the lovely story of the lady who is leaving bunches of flowers over London for strangers to take home and enjoy – spreading a bit of kindness.
Stepping out of the boat this morning, the towpath was a mudbath. So much rain! How fortunate we were that the downpours stopped before we had to walk to the rail station. What a palava preparing the boat to be left for a few days. We have been warned that bikes should be taken inside or we may not find them waiting for us on our return. Then we have to double padlock one end and remove the tiller. The bow has a heavy ironbar that you put across the frontdoor. Of course, the lou decided to show us it was full so that had to be changed and the fire alarm got knocked off the ceiling. No amount of sellotape would repair it! We also found a very wet patch in the corner of the cabin we sleep in – not sure why. Will need to investigate on our return. Eventually, wraps made and packing completed (including everything that needs charging up and remembering all the chargers!) we set off for London. Eventual destination the Holiday Inn at Guildford – R knows how to treat a woman! Four days of unlimited internet and full size baths – what a treat. Infact this is an ‘essential journey’. R’s got to have his varicose veins dealt with and his new tooth fitted but nothing can be done before a Covid test and a couple of days isolation. So armed with lots of breakfast and snacks our mini-break begins.
I can’t even remember the last train journey I took but it certainly bore little resemblance to today. Hardly anyone on the platform, very few punters on the train and when we arrived at Euston, it was like a ghost station compared to normal. Very sobering. Friend of Holly’s who’s an Uber driver picked us up and London itself seemed rather strange with the lack of its usual buzz although in true London spirit we did see a friendly game of footy going on in one of the parks!
Our first wet day from start to finish. I didn’t even leave the boat! Jules Fuels went by and filled us up with diesel and coal so at least we don’t have to worry about the cold if and, when it comes!
It suited me having such a wet day. A few weeks ago I had signed up to a digital conference all about online church and the future of the ‘hybrid’ church. A slogan being branded was ‘the doors may be closed but the church is fully open’. It made me realise that there is no turning back – if the church wants to be relevant at this time it needs a digital presence and the challenge for our leaders is how to go about doing this effectively and creatively whilst inspiring others to be involved. One minister told us that his weekly congregation pre Covid was about 300 people. He now has up to 8000 people accessing his services online! Wow! What an opportunity for people to dip their toe in the water as to what God is all about without having to go anywhere! There were heartwarming stories of couples where one used to go alone to church but now are accessing services together from the comfort of their sofa. And the families who instead of having to choose between sport and church on a Sunday can participate in services at a time to suit. An inspiring day with lots to think about, the main thought being that I should not remain on the fence when it comes to digital platforms. Used correctly they can be an amazing tool for sharing ideas and connecting us all together.
Talking about closed doors, I find the lockgates of the large double locks fairly dark and imposing so I rather liked the picture of the colourful graffiti on the bridge just prior to a nearby lock.
Perhaps not the best date to do something tricky like reversing a boat with no backwards steerage but we managed after filling the water tank to the brim. What I had not realised was how long it actually takes to fill the tank. Every time I thought it full because the water bubbled onto the deck, I waited with the hose in a bucket and then started to add more water. I think I emptied 3 buckets of water into the canal! Meanwhile R got chatting to a lady on the side who wanted some water jugs filled. It ended up a really interesting conversation about resentment, a subject that she is currently studying as a PHD. She has come to the conclusion that resentment that is not expressed eventually turns into anger. A thought to be considered at a time when there is so much resentment lurking in everyday life.
A friend who lives locally arrived late morning and we went on a lovely walk across the fields – an area of Berkhamsted that we had not previously discovered and it was refreshing to be in wide open spaces. Returning to the boat, with the wet weather closing in, I decided to try my hand at making a cake with the quinces I had pre-baked in the oven yesterday and was pleasantly surprised with the result.
A lesson was also learned about moving the boat, even if only by a few feet – check out the internet. I found myself for an hour standing on the towpath in the pitch dark so I could join the weekly Friday Zoom – my friends kept wondering why they couldn’t see the disembodied voice!
You wouldn’t realise its lockdown where we are. Apart from the pubs closed of course! But the amount of traffic on the roads hasn’t changed much and many shops are ‘essential’. Actually, good for them. And it’s great to see that a lot of the smaller shops have set up ‘click and collect’ so you know they are still able to do business. We walked through Hemel Hempstead today and I saw ‘The Range’ was open. For those of you who don’t know what I am talking about, it is a jack of all trades store. I was delighted because it has a great arty department and I have decided that I want to set up an advent calendar over the narrowboat windows but to do this will take some artistic ability. I am zero in that department but I thought The Range would give me inspiration. It did, but I still walked out emptied handed! We walked to HH to find suitable mooring spots for when we start moving again. We came across two excellent cafes, still operating with delicious cakes and great coffee. And an Aldi, so know where I will be parked up. From Waitrose to Aldi – sublime to ridiculous but I love Aldi!
What I really enjoyed was the chats we had on our walk. The first with a lovely black cab taxi driver who commutes from his boat into London. But he also goes up to Nantwich to be with his 13yr old daughter and his aim is to get the boat to her for Christmas. When she first moved up there with her mum four years ago he told her he would be at the school gate for her first day of term. And he was, even though it took a massive amount of time. Operating a lock single handedly probably takes half an hour. Add to that a boat going at 3mph (they say 4 but you have to slow down every time you pass a boat so I think the average is lower) and you can work out how long it takes to get to Nantwich. What I saw that inspired me was this man’s devotion to his daughter that saw him go the extra mile to be with her on important dates even though it seemed logistically impossible.
Then we met a guy who used to be a street entertainer at Covent Garden. His dust allergy meant that Covid was a threat to his health so he had to get out of London and he decided to buy a second wide beam boat and do it up over lockdown to then sell on. However an unexpected stoppage at Shepperton because of a capsized boat meant he couldnt get the boat to a place where he could do it up. So end story is that he has spent a lot of money on something that he now needs to sell at a loss. He wasn’t complaining. That’s life. He then told us of a man he helped out in various ways, eventually lending him £350. He now knows he will never get that money back and he is finding it hard to let that go, which is understandable. The man he helped won’t give it a second thought so somehow he needs to move on for the sake of his own wellbeing. Another friend told him he had ‘borrowed’ £20 from a mate and had no intention of paying it back – this boater challenged him, saying was it worth losing a friend for the sake of £20! Looking at it from that perspective, I wondered the same.
Our third encounter was with a delightful family with a toddler. He has lived on narrowboats for 8 years and with his wife for 4 – they met a couple of years ago when her boat moored up next to his and they fell in love. She had been working in Pakistan at a mission and it transpired that we know the lady she worked with! We told them that we were working out if God wanted us to have a ministry of listening and praying for people on the canals and they gave us three bits of advice: 1)Don’t give tea for free – people will wonder what we want in return 2)Don’t live in a boat that looks posh and 3)Sit outside as much as possible so that you can actually meet people! They then asked us to pray for them which we were very happy to do. Beginning a journey like this can be a little daunting – is God in it? Are we just doing something because we like the idea of it? A timely piece of affirmation is very welcome and instils confidence. As an aside, we happened to notice on our way home a figtree fully laden with both ripe and unripe figs. Which got us thinking about the fruits of our labour. Maybe this is a thought for all of us. What do we do and what do we produce and indeed, do we need to produce anything at all?
Think today was a bit like a sabbath rest for me – not a lot happened! So I decided to mend all the moth holes in the warm jumpers R and I had bought with us on the boat. Each time I put one of them on, or look at R with the holes increasing I make a mental note to self to repair. Today was the day and arming myself with the very useful sewing kit provided me by my sister and bro in law (just one of a few indispensible items such as a first aid kit, a powerbank and a battery lantern – all already made use of!) I darned and darned. Great feeling of satisfaction and also good to know the jumpers will be fit for purpose and keep us warm now the holes have gone. Sometimes we get a few holes in our own lives, perhaps broken relationships that we don’t take time to repair and so they get bigger and we get colder. The things we put off doing, that sit in the background, niggling at us. On the boat we already have a few of those. The chimney to the stove needs sweeping but we keep putting it off. I need to look through paperwork but it is so much easier to ignore! And the challenge awaiting us before the end of the week – filling up the watertank. Not a problem in itself but I know neither R or I relish the thought of reversing the boat, so we are eeking out the water! I suppose that is one advantage of lockdown and living only with each other – standards tend to drop a little! (except the washing of the hands and the gel sanitizer. Always enough water for that!).
Hoping to resolve our mobile battery charger issues, we collected a solar charger from an Amazon locker today. Although I really don’t want to help Amazon grow any bigger, there is no doubt that their locker system is a lifesaver for those on boats with no fixed address! We have even had enough sun today to start it charging. Spent a lot of the day walking, and even did 10mins of Joe Wicks for seniors in an open park, much to the amusement (or horror!) of passersby. The narrowboat is just not wide enough to jump about on and the towpath so muddy that I’m at serious danger of ending up in the canal rather than on it or beside it. I realise how far we are into autumn when on returning to the boat I noticed a proliferation of leaves. I found it vaguely amusing to think how little I enjoy indoor housework and yet here I was sweeping leaves off the roof and especially the solar panels. To our great relief Warren, the pumpout man, passed by as he said he would and dealt with our potty issues for the pricely sum of £2.
Venturing forth in a direction we have not walked before we were amazed by the extent of allotments and coming across a very chatty born and bred Berkhamsted man we learnt alot about the history of the town and the creation of extensive orchards by some wildlife trust. There is a strong feeling of community here and a great deal of ventures up and running to help those who are in need, whether because of loneliness or some other cause that makes them vulnerable.
Exposing our vulnerability is not something we are necessarily keen to do, especially when all around it looks as though other people are coping with life much more ably than we are. Yet a bit of honesty about how we are feeling can lead to deep and meaningful conversation and a recognition that we all here to help one another rather than seeing life as a competition. With many families spread out geographically it is great to think that we can build family from community if we choose to do so.
NarrowboatTLC 