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Our time in central London has drawn to a close as we prepare to journey onwards towards the tidal Thames. It’s been a truly rewarding time, spending many happy hours with both family and friends who live within easy reach of where we are moored. It hasn’t been without its challenges, the worst one for R who, in the inky dark, put his leg between our boat and the one we were double moored against and found himself falling, banging his ribs as he landed on the gunnel. Bruised ribs are incredibly painful and there is little treatment other than popping painkillers, which he does intermittently. It’s taken his mind off the bakers cyst in his knee but it’s not much fun, especially every time he coughs or moves from a lying to sitting position, when the pain is more acute. Methinks the next few weeks will be a bit of a challenge for him as his body gradually heals. It even hurts to laugh so too much humour is not very welcome!

Our boat allows for six people so it was a slight challenge last Sunday, when we were moving from Kings Cross to Paddington, to accommodate R’s cousin with his three young children, as we already had a boat full. However I didn’t want to disappoint them so I suggested that they come aboard until St Pancras, whilst 4 of the adults walked along the towpath, wheeling the kids bikes alongside them. You need eyes in the back of your head to make sure no one goes overboard – children seem to have an absence of fear as to how dangerous a lock and the water can be – it was a relief to wave them goodbye all in one piece!

We found ourselves sharing the wide locks with a novice boater and her friends. This was her first journey travelling through the locks and coincidentally she had bought her boat from the girl we had met at church the previous Sunday! She was grateful to have assistance and to be reassured that we were not too precious about our own boat being bumped by hers, although that never happened! Two small narrowboats in a widelock is preferable to one as there is less chance of the boat being bounced around and being scarred by the walls.

The weather was perfect for enjoying the trip through Regents Park and Little Venice into the basin and the autumnal colours were vibrant in the sunshine. Mooring up we bade farewell to two of our crew and then I set about making dinner for four of us. There is an art I have discovered for entertaining. A recipe that negates the use of too many saucepans and a limited amount of prep is a bonus. Washing up definitely needs to be kept to a minimum – the advantage of cooking after traveling is the copious amounts of hot water, assuming the tank is full! This last week has seen me actually turn the oven on and follow a recipe from scratch! David Atherton, a former ‘bake off’ winner has written an excellent cookbook based on feeding our microbiome – R was most alarmed when I returned from shopping laden with some unusual ingredients that all needed  accommodating in our tiny galley. DA says we need at least 30 different nuts, seeds, fruit, veg in our gut per week so a broadening of my limited larder was called for! It paid off – the roasted squashy bean chili cooked later in the week for more visitors aboard, tasted delicious!

Based in Paddington for a week there was a definite advantage in taking Naomhòg on short trips to charge her batteries, so we were delighted on Monday to have some friends join us and we travelled towards Regents Park once again, having ascertained we could turn the boat around after 40 mins or so. My excitement of the week was having the boat serviced on Wednesday morning. The girl who refused to acknowledge the differing sounds of a car engine,  growing up with two brothers who were nuts about cars, found herself engrossed with the service mechanic, who explained the workings of her engine! I learnt such a lot and was rewarded, when next taking the boat for a spin, by hearing the sweet difference of a tuned engine to one that had become slightly clunky. Interestingly the engineer started fiddling with a rubber tube and cutting off its end. On enquiring why, he said he had found a very slight hole letting in air, and that could be the cause of our engine cutting out whilst idling at locks. It remains to be seen if this is the case but I was impressed nonetheless that he even found it! A complete oil change was also a revelation and one I think I shall be giving a go when next required, in addition to changing the fuel and oil filters.

By Thursday the water tank was in need of a topup and as another friend had come to visit, we took the boat towards Kensal Green, filling up en route. A beautiful autumnal day, it was a joy to meander along the canal and experience London from a unique viewpoint. Our friend, a Londoner through and through, was delighted to experience something different. Friends then came for Friday and Saturday, although they opted not to stay on the boat and we made use of the M&S on our doorstep for a simple supper.  We were all slightly exhausted from walking through Regents Park to Camden Market where I purchased an amazing pair of bright orange dungarees, only to be worn on the boat! Camden Market was both buzzy and fun, with plenty to see, including the boaters coming through the nearby lock. It is quite frustrating that there is nowhere to moor up within the vicinity but, perhaps, just as well because spending too much time there could prove expensive! The next morning we travelled to Alperton to enable our friends to access the tube which happens to be very close to the canal. The engine began to sound a little laboured suggesting the propellor was struggling to turn.  Removing the weedhatch cover, I, using a long rubberglove, delved into the murky depths and sure enough found a carrier bag along with other bits of rubbish, wrapped around the shaft. It was very satisfying, once I had managed to free up the propellor,  recognising that there had been a problem and how to rectify it.   We returned to Wormwood Scrubs, minus our friends and moored up next to a very helpful and chatty Spanish speaking boater. It wasn’t quite where we had planned to moor. I had misread the bridge number, but we were reluctant to move yet again and the neighborhood, thanks to the close proximity of our neighbour, felt quite safe.  Our friend Mo arrived with a delicious chicken risotto and we had a convivial evening in perhaps not the most salubrious part of London!

Awaking to heavy rain this morning and looking at the predicted weather forecast, we had little choice than to don our full wet weather gear and face the hour long journey along the cut, back to Alperton.  I surprised myself by rather enjoying the experience, realising that I was happy as long as I remained dry and warm within my outerclothes. Fortunately there was very little wind and infact by the time we arrived the rain, contrary to the forecast, had dried up. An easy tube journey early afternoon  was only marred by the 193 steps I had to climb to avoid using the over crowded lift! Treated by one of my daughter’s to an amazing afternoon tea the heavens then opened and there was a forceful downpour and flash lightening as we tried to leave the venue. With her foot in a cast my other daughter was unable to go far so we took shelter in a nearby bar, where she treated me to a delicious cocktail! Finding the rain had flooded the nearest tube I walked to the next station  and waited interminably on a crowded platform for the train to arrive. Loving London as I do, the stark reminder of how frustrating the transport system can be, slightly removed my rose tinted spectacles!

Having re-explored Islington for a few days, including a pleasant evening at the St Pancras Cruising Club chatting to some much more experienced boaters than ourselves, we moved Naomhog on towards Kings Cross. It took barely an hour, including a stop at the water tap and then the Islington tunnel, which was longer than I remembered, I think because the light at the far end of the tunnel appeared quite bright and large when we entered, giving the illusion it was fairly close. Although just broad enough for two narrowboats to pass, you are not encouraged to enter the tunnel when you see a narrowboat coming towards you. On exiting the tunnel we were grateful to see another boat waiting to enter, rather than have impatiently pushed ahead – I’m not sure we would have found it easy to manoeuvre past them mid tunnel without a bump or two!

Moored up, straddled against the stern of one widebeam and the bow of another, we could then easily step ashore across our neighbour’s stern. This seemed to be the norm and the occupants of both boats were very accommodating of our presence even though initially we found it a little strange. However an advantage of not being next to the towpath was the realisation that the boat was more safe from intruders and less likely to have anything lifted from the roof! Not that we felt at risk. Kings Cross has altered dramatically in thirty years as the ‘ladies of the night’ have been moved on and the entire canal area has been regenerated and rebuilt, resulting in a vibrant and exciting space to explore. How happy was I to find a large Waitrose within a stone’s throw of the boat. It even boasted a wine bar! Popping in daily to use my voucher for a free newspaper I am now in the habit of Whatsapping the crossword to my two sons, who then answer the clues via WA and I manually fill the crossword in, resending periodic updates. It may sound laborious to those of you who complete the crossword in minutes, but I think its a fun way to connect to my two boys, one who is currently studying abroad and one who as a father, multitasks cradling his newborn and exercising his brain. For R and me, it has reignited an interest in crosswords, which we did avidly in our courting days but stopped when life got too busy.

Walking the streets of London it is fascinating to both people watch and take in the atmosphere of the differing areas, noticing changes both architecturally and culturally. Observing the difference in wealth and multiculturalism, there are varied and vibrant communities and it’s exciting to be part of that, even if only briefly. London feels so alive and I am sure there are some streets that never quieten.

With endless coffee shops to choose from, my eyes alighted on a deal that one of the chains is running, “5 cups of barista made drinks per day for £25/month. (First month half price!) Never one to miss a bargain, I signed up! Admittedly it ties me to the chain, but there is so much choice! I am working my way through the menu which so far, in addition to the usual, has included turmeric lattes, which I love, and a matcha latte that got passed onto R because his taste buds are less refined! (He actually has impaired taste from his accident so can eat pretty much anything!). I thought it tasted as green and ghastly as it looked, which wasn’t good! However the frappé green smoothie I tried was delicious, probably due to its high sugar content! My membership will be short lived – this particular chain doesn’t extend to our home town, which is probably just as well. Imagine how much weight you could gain partaking of up to five calorie laden drinks a day. Not to mention the temptation of buying something to eat alongside! Very clever marketing if you ask me!

Bringing the boat into The Angel, Islington on Saturday was such a joy. The weather was sunny and warm and we were joined by our friend Lu and her dog who had come on our Paddington to Angel trip in July, so knew the ropes. Lu and R did sterling work at all the locks, whilst I just helmed in comfort! There wasn’t much traffic on the canals but there were plenty of spectators at all the locks, which made it a bit embarrassing when we realised a paddle was still up at one end when we were trying to fill the lock. Fortunately that mistake happens rarely – it is possible for pounds to be emptied by the misuse of the lock paddles enabling the water to run continuously through. You do feel a bit of a charley when you do something amiss. I still occasionally try to open the lock gates the wrong way, pushing instead of pulling. It’s a lack of concentration, which leaves you feeling rather stupid, especially in front of a crowd!

There were a couple of enthusiastic CRT volunteers chatting to people outside Victoria Park, engaging them to come and help look after the waterways. It is lovely to see how many people walk the towpath, enjoying the landscape which differs greatly from the bustling nearby streets. I am amazed by how quiet the towpath is overnight. Moored up in Islington, in the dead of night, we could be out in the country! My main concern is the frequent tinging of bicycle bells as cyclists speed along the towpath expecting pedestrians to move swiftly out of their path. They assume their bell will be heard whereas in reality some walkers are genuinely hard of hearing and some have headphones in place. If R is walking behind me and a cyclist is behind him, although I may hear the ring of the bell, I then have to guess whether R will move towards or away from the towpath edge and it’s not helpful if we move in opposite directions.

I got chatting to one of the CRT volunteers and when mentioning we were trying to run our boat as a prayer boat she thought this an excellent idea but wondered how anyone would know? My homemade bunting banner, made of waterproof fabric, had got rather curled up so I was trying to flatten it out under the weight of our anchor! I retied it to the side of the boat and am wondering if anyone will stop and chat or even notice it as they walk past. I need to dress up warmly and sit in our covered stern area reading a book – I don’t think anyone will actually knock on the door of they can’t see me!

Not that we have spent much time on the boat. It’s such a great opportunity to walk the streets and revisit old haunts of our youth. We found Myddleton Square, the flat we lived in when we first married, and went to an afternoon service on Sunday in the church that sits in the square. I cannot believe I never went into it before – surely if it had been open 35 years ago I would have gone there each Sunday? What’s not to like about a church you can reach in less than a minute. Our front doors were almost opposite each other! I think perhaps it was not in use then – a conondrum I would be interested to solve. The congregation were very friendly and hearing we were on a boat, introduced us to a young lady who had recently sold her narrowboat, but has an uncle who is a member of the St Pancras Cruising Club. She put us in touch with him, recommending that we go along to their Wednesday night social, where we will be pleasantly surprised at the price list – the best value pint in the locality. Having just paid £8 for a pint of beer in one of the Islington pubs, R is definitely up for the invitation!

Chapel market was fun to walk around and there was a lovely farmers market on Sunday morning where I indulged in some organic West country camembert. I drew a line at a small piece of vegan flan that was £6.50 a slice! Even accounting for inflated prices, one flan would net about £40!!

Lu had recommended we see Prima Facie, a live stream from the National Theatre. Spying a Vue cinema on Saturday afternoon I wandered in on the off chance there might be something of interest to watch. Prima Facie had one showing at 1830. I can’t say we enjoyed it. I had to walk around for an hour to decompress but it was superbly acted and certainly made one think. I was left reflecting on our responsibility to ourselves when it comes to the amount of alcohol we consume because, obviously, once we lose control of our senses, we become very vulnerable.

A few years ago R and I tried ballroom dancing – it was my way of thanking him for supporting me in all the Scottish dancing we have enjoyed over the years. Daughter Ho, remembering this, gave us tickets to a tea dance at the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden. Booked for last Monday, it was one of our reasons for getting to London beforehand. Little did she realise how unsuccessful our ballroom career had been. The first lessons, we missed a few, so by the end of the year, having not progressed, we decided to retake the beginner’s class. R was very good but I just never got the hang of it. By the end of year two, our friends were streets ahead of us and I just couldn’t face either repeating the beginner’s class or attempting the intermediary. Covid hit and our illustrious ballroom dancing ground to a halt! To be a fly on the wall, watching the footwork of those who can dance was a revelation! R, rightly decided, we should not join the throng. It would be embarrassing and we’d bump into other dancers. I did slightly regret that we hadn’t looked at YouTube to remind ourselves of a basic waltz or quick step (and I did remember I actually rather liked the rumba!) but can you imagine trying to practice on a narrowboat!! It was worth the visit just to see the beauty of the opera House.

We’ve had family come to visit since we’ve been moored here. A neice with her toddler, seemingly fearless of the water, so watchful eyes needed as we strolled the towpath. Then a cousin who I walked the Brighton to Eastbourne Macmillan challenge with a few years ago. For 26 miles we didn’t pause for breath, chatting continually. It was similar today. Although we didn’t walk so far, we certainly found a lot to talk about!

Our boat looked dinky moored alongside our companions on Saturday – a couple of widebeams and two 70ft narrowboats. We booked our mooring in advance and can stay up to a week. Run by the CRT, we have electric hookup, a watertap nearby and I even noticed a pumpout as we went through one of the nearby locks, so all mod cons! No fires allowed or running of the generator but as we have a small electric heater that isn’t a problem. We also have blanket hoodies to keep us warm. Not much of a fashion icon though! I noticed a big change in neighbours. The present boats are smaller, older, not so neat and tidy on the outside. It’s great to observe the constant changing of the boat’s around us and imagine the differing stories of the people within.

A whistle stop car trip to Edinburgh and back to meet the newest member of the family resulted in a long day on Tuesday owing to very heavy traffic and then the proposed rail strike. Having planned to return to the boat on Wednesday without a car in tow, we realized the train was no longer an option and we’d be best to get back to the boat on Tuesday night. That resulted in a very quick turnaround once home. I did a clothes wash, found some sort of meal from the freezer to feed us and packed as minimally as possible so that we did not have too much luggage. We always disconnect the batteries when we vacate the boat so consequently the fridge is bare and as we’d be arriving after the shops shut I also needed to pack some fresh food. Walking down to the station I felt like a bag lady with a backpack, handbag and bags on both arms. R was similarly attired minus the handbag! He’d just managed to find the time to sort some necessary paperwork but I have to say it was not the most relaxing way to return to the boat, with the clock ticking before the midnight strike began!

The warm glow of lights from The Jolly Fisherman beckoned us in as we arrived at St Margaret’s station just before 10pm. A welcome nightcap and warm up in their cosy bar before we ‘walked the plank’ was too tempting to resist. Our boat was moored further along the towpath, only accessible by plank, which we thought to be a good security measure when we left it for five days, little expecting to be arriving back in the pitch dark! Thankfully it was neither too damp nor cold and it was a bonus to wake up on Wednesday morning knowing we had beaten the traffic chaos! K and her Canadian friend Ty popped in for morning coffee and to celebrate her birthday. She was brave to tackle our plank after recent knee surgery!

A final visit to the local chandler and a bill of £32 to sort the diesel tank leak put me in good spirits as I had no idea how long the repair job had taken and they charge at an hourly rate. I had to ask for an invoice – they seem to have forgotten all about the job! The afternoon saw the arrival of MM, R’s schoolfriend who lives in Australia. He had to take a taxi from Tottenham Hale tube but didn’t seem to mind, probably because he had found a good BnB deal at Roydon marina hotel. We moved the boat along to the Stort River and moored up after the first lock. That way it wasn’t too far for MM to walk to his hotel, nor was it too far for us all to walk to the local pub in Roydon for supper. Good pub grub, especially the chips but I was disappointed with my glass of prosecco that seemed devoid of any bubbles and I didn’t mention it until the glass was almost empty so I don’t think the waitress believed me! She certainly didn’t give me another!

A lovely day with MM yesterday travelling from Roydon to Ponders End. It was bittersweet to know we were leaving the River Lee as we have really enjoyed our time in Hertfordshire but equally it was uplifting to resume our travels, knowing we are heading for the big smoke, with the excitement and diversity of the large city. The sun shone and the wind was calm so we negotiated the seven locks en route with ease and MM was quite a pro by the end of his visit. I think he’s booked in for a longer trip when we hopefully go on the K&A next year. As a novice to the canals, he found it hard to believe the tranquil canal life running parallel to the hectic busyness of the commuter suburbs of London. We arrived at Ponders End, happy to find the train station a five minute walk from the boat, with a train due in three minutes! Bidding MM farewell we wandered around the locality and were saddened to see a fair few shops closed down and signs of obvious hardship. Ponders End seems to consist of factories and light industry interspersed with high rise housing and rows of back to back small terraced houses. A large Tesco probably accounts for the closure of some of the local independent shops but it was useful for us to buy an easy supper. With the fridge still turned off, I am buying food daily. Overnight I am impressed by how cold the milk stays hanging outside the hatch in an insulated carrier bag! I really think I need to look into buying solar panels for next spring/summer – most of the boaters we have met swear by them and I am missing having ice for my gin!

I bought a wide necked thermos back to the boat and having purchased a small pot of live natural yoghurt and some UHT milk I set about making my own yoghurt batch. Bring careful not to make the milk too hot, I added it to the warmed thermos with a tablespoon of the bought yoghurt. I then left it overnight and was delighted with the results. Far easier than all the faff of trying to make kefir. Poor R is probably in for a lot of yoghurt dishes in the coming weeks. It’s not his favourite food having over indulged before we were married – he lived near to a Sainsbury that used that particular store to test out all the new yoghurt flavours and R was one of their biggest guineapigs!

Today started early, not good for R who was so awake in the night he made himself a cup of tea and took to the other end of the boat to read. By 0745 we were moving along the cut with the deadline of arriving at a specific marina by 10am for a ‘pump out’. As it was over two hours from us the early start was obligatory. Alternatively we could have waited for the next available pumpout slot at 1pm but then we risked arriving at the Limehouse basin too late to find an overnight mooring. All went well until the Tottenham Hale lock. As you approach it there is a choice of two locks to enter and no obvious indication as to which lock is not in use! Choosing the lock on the right we realised we should have gone to the left. Whilst he had the chance R jumped off the boat to set the lock, leaving me to reverse the boat far enough back to enter the left lock rather than the right one. Factoring in the prevailing wind I found it impossible not to reverse without being blown to the side where there were three widebeams, one of them in immaculate condition! I had no option than to use my pole to avoid a side on collision and it was a fairly nerve wracking experience. At any time I was expecting an irate boater to shout at me. Either they had left for work, were fast asleep or they were used to this problem. I heard later from a seasoned boater at the marina it was a common hazard at that particular lock to get blown off course, which made me feel slightly better! The locks were clogged with quantities of ribbon weed that R did his best to remove and as we got nearer to Limehouse, we were amazed at the prolific amount of bright green duck weed. (Not to mention the discarded rubbish including a double mattress. I checked the weed hatch at the end of the day and was relieved to find nothing untoward was attached to the propellor.)

The pumpout was worth the early start. Having now experienced a few, this one was by far the most thorough. Not only did Ab, the kind guy do the whole procedure for me, he also thoroughly rinsed out the tank. We weren’t sure how full it was – our indicator is a little unpredictable, but we did notice the boat no longer leaning sideways afterwards! As we probably won’t find another working pumpout until the other side of London (apparently many of the CRT ones are broken) I feel mightily relieved to know the facilities are clean and empty! In addition we were able to refill the water tank after mooring up alongside the marina long enough for us both to have hot showers! I can’t tell you the joy of knowing we wouldn’t run out of water because we could refill the tank to the top after the shower! It’s the little things that give the most pleasure!

Ab was very chatty and told me he used to be a chef working 60-70 hrs per week, like his father and brother. Then covid hit and he ended up assisting his girlfriend move a narrowboat. Pulling up at this marina he asked, almost tongue in cheek, for a job. They employed him instantly and he’s been much happier. He’s also a musician so he can now get to all his gigs because of his regular work hours. He said his mum once asked him if ‘he wanted to earn lots of money or to be rich’ meaning to live a life that he felt gave him satisfaction doing what he loves, which is music. A very philosophical conversation for 10am!

Although the scenery becomes less picturesque, we still observed some beautiful autumnal trees and reservoirs of sparkling water when the sun was shining. There are plenty of colourful boats, some with amazing designs to cheer them further and a prolific amount of guady graffiti, especially under the concrete bridges.

Arriving at Limehouse basin we stopped at a deep mooring with a very precarious exit position! We went for a walk and discovered a great spot just after the first lock on the Regents canal. So, thinking we had finished for the day, we found a final burst of energy to move the boat. Just as well because it’s next to a Mediterranean takeaway and we are treating some friends to supper tonight who live nearby. V is a great friend of our daughter Ho and we’ve known her since primary school. Even though she’s younger and more agile, I wasn’t sure how she would like our previous precarious mooring!

A momentous week for us as we became grandparents for the very first time! The miracle of birth is such a joy and no matter what else is happening, the spirits are lifted by the precious gift of new life.

This isn’t meant to be a baby blog so enough said! Although I do also think of Naomhog as ‘my baby’. Perhaps because she has similar needs – regular feeding and frequent cleaning up! We are still in the Ware area and found ourselves going through the boisterous lock at Stanstead, once again on Tuesday. We had to wait whilst a boat came up, the helmsman being ultra cautious, opening only one paddle. Even so it bumped the sides as the water entered the lock with some force. Another boat arrived to go down alongside us which we managed with slight trepidation because it was freshly painted and the owner admitted to being very precious about it. I don’t blame her, she had spent many hours on the task and didn’t want scratches on her inaugural journey. However it put the pressure on us to make sure the two boats didn’t bump each other and I strongly suggested to R that he followed the lead of this lady as to the speed with which she wanted the water to exit the lock so that we didn’t get castigated! She was nervous because, she informed us, last year a boat had rolled into its side!

Finding a mooring was pretty difficult with all the choice places taken. However we found a lovely secluded spot albeit somewhat precarious to get on and off the boat, requiring our plank. The slightly steep bank only made itself known after some rain and I found myself faced with a short slippery slope between the towpath and the boat. Having invited our friends T and Al for a drink later in the evening I had visions of them slipping into the canal, a distinct possibility after a glass or two! So R managed to fashion a couple of steps into the bankside and all was well!

It’s a small world. We were talking about our home town and discovered T had done the early photography for Free Bible Images, an organisation set up by two of our good friends and he had worked with them extensively in the early stages of the project.

Another God-instance of the week occurred whilst we returned home for a few days. I received an email from a roving Waterways chaplain saying she had read a piece I had written in the BCF (Boaters Christian Fellowship) magazine and that she and her husband were presently on the Wey navigation, heading shortly to London and then out to Ware for the winter. I replied, saying that coincidentally we were at Ware, heading into London and then out onto the Wey navigation for the winter! As we had planned a walk along the Wey towpath we incorporated meeting for a cup of tea and swapping stories. I mentioned I had knitted an outfit for baby HH but it was rather big. (and one friend, a very experienced granny, also told me it may be rejected for not feeling soft enough!). Ki immediately produced a large bag of baby items. Turns out she is a prolific knitter and asked me to choose something I liked, so I now have a much smaller, softer cardigan, to give to the baby. We have now, quite by chance, met the only two pairs of ‘roving Waterways chaplains’ on the network – quite a coincidence when you think they could have been anywhere on the cut. Maybe there’s a message there somewhere!

I noticed condensation forming on the windows so the damper weather is certainly on the way. I’m thankful I found time to revarnish the wooden window sills so hopefully they will be protected from too much water damage. It’s time for us to hunt out the thermals and our oversize wearable blankets along with the wet weather gear. I didn’t realise how much I would appreciate the good summer weather. I had a misconception that the cut would be overcrowded with summer rental boats. This certainly had not been our experience on the Lea & Stort. We have had a very enjoyable stay, delighted at how picturesque the scenery is, and little realising we would be in the midst of a known area of ‘outstanding beauty’. For me, to return to my home roots, had been a journey of reminiscence and in a way, put a few ghosts to rest. Growing up here I was impatient to leave. A village with just a church and a pub did not seem exciting enough to stay around longer than I had to. The lights of London beckoned. Now I can see the charm of the area and would happily revisit.

Having just written a Thought on ‘Constancy’ I realise I have not been very consistent with my blog during September due to the fact that we have been more off the boat than on! Speaking with other boaters, I realise this is a common hazard – you think you are going to sail away into the sunset and then get thwarted by broken locks, boat repairs, water shortages, family commitments, health issues. You begin to understand that patience and adaptability are two virtues that need to be cultivated if a stress free boating experience is to be maintained. In addition if you write a blog and don’t save it you find yourself having to rewrite it, which is just what has happened to me tonight. This is my second attempt!

We have needed to leave the boat to assist our daughter with her broken foot, which is taking a long time to mend, much to her frustration. Then, eventually, the diesel tank was repaired by the local marina but that meant another few days away from the boat for us. This coincided with a school reunion I had hoped to attend in Ware. Instead I attended virtually on Zoom, only recognising one other lady. Our claim to fame was having Kim Wilde in our year but I had seen in the local Waitrose magazine that she was going on tour from 10th September – the lengths you go to to avoid a school reunion after half a century! Another friend confided wild horses wouldn’t lure her back to ‘that’ school, although I don’t remember it as being too bad. Once the boat was in the marina we couldn’t stay on it so had to return home which was a shame as I liked the idea of turning up at the reunion by boat!

Then this last weekend we went, by car, to Fazeley Junction, the Spaghetti Junction of the canal network, to meet with members of the Boaters Christian Fellowship and to view a house with a mooring for a narrowboat, that is coming up for sale. It’s very tempting to live in the heart of the canal network and to be able to travel in all directions from home. The weekend itself was a joy, meeting some very lovely people. The previous time we had met many of them was when we contracted covid from the pub singalong, so had had to bid a hasty retreat. Mind you, we were not the only ones! Returning to the boat on Sunday evening I have to admit to spending Monday on our bed, having rigged a projector screen at the foot of the bed to watch the Queen’s funeral. I was only going to watch until midday but I got caught up with the procession to Windsor and then the second service, which I did not realise was being televised. R kept me fed and watered, even producing a picnic lunch! I couldn’t help but reflect that Westminster Abbey had the potential to be a super spreader hub – all those people coming together from every corner of the globe. Coming up for air at the end of such an emotional day we walked into Stanstead Abbots, where we called in on friends, made through doing the Ukranian refugee trips. They offered us an impromtu supper, which was most welcome as we have little fresh food aboard partly because the fridge is turned off. Until we start travelling properly again our batteries have to be kept charged by running the engine without us moving. The main drain on the batteries is the fridge so it is preferable to keep it turned off. Our friends have a mooring at the end of their garden, which they offered us to use but as it is on an arm that is very shallow with lots of weeds, we think our boat would go aground. Interestingly the arm was used up until the mid 1950’s to carry malt to the maltings – the boats weighed up to 100 tons!

Although we have not had many days on the boat we have had to keep coming and going in order to move the regulatory distance set by the CRT when you are a continuous cruiser. Unaware until recently that this should be in one direction, we are now on the return route as we reached the end of the navigable river when we went to Hertford. We spent a week or so in Ware and then the boat went into Stanstead Marina, which does not count as part of the CRT regulations. On leaving the marina we decided to go back to Gt Amwell, which sits between Ware and Stanstead Abbots. There is rather a nasty lock with a strong current of water once the paddles are open. I tried to tell R to only open one paddle, but he paid little attention and the next thing I knew I was being tossed like a pingpong ball in a hurricane as the boat hit both sides of the lock walls, displacing one of the stern cover steel poles. I was not best pleased! Fortunately we have already learnt our lesson with the actual stern cover – two holes in the fabric from damage caused by close encounters mean we carefully fold the cover before travelling, tucking it neatly behind the back of the boat. I have had to repair the cover with a sticky patch as I don’t think my sewing machine is up to the job! A thing of beauty lasts but a short time…

I have calculated that in three weeks only 5 nights have been aboard. I’m a bit concerned about our pumpout which usually lasts about three weeks and hasn’t needed emptying since we left Roydon marina at the end of July! The gauge telling us when it is near capacity is still saying nearly empty and I am not sure if that is a true reading, because the cover is broken! We bought a Portapotti in case we ever get caught short, but I was unsure where we would find a place to use it, other than put it above the present lou, in which case I would need a step ladder. Aldi has come to the rescue – they were selling pop up privacy tents, one metre square. I think it just fits on the back stern, so if push comes to shove and our pumpout ever overfills we do have a backup plan!!

A cheery voice at 0930 on Saturday morning took us slightly by surprise. I had tried to explain, via text, to our next ukranian visitors, that a 10am arrival would be good. Saturday morning is when R likes to surface slowly, enjoy a boiled egg and anticipate the day ahead. So the earlier than planned arrival of a very excited 5 year old, his mum and his granny catapulted us into action! They had arrived by bus from Hertford and apparently the little boy was so excited about this boat trip that his mother had got an earlier bus in order to get to us as soon as possible! We lowered the stern cover, watered the plants from the excess water we have when running the hot tap (having just replaced the rather dead flowers we came back to earlier in the week I wasn’t about to let these ones die so soon!) and we were on our way by 0945 towards Hertford. I wasn’t looking forward to the imminent lock – it was the Ware one I had complained to the CRT about earlier in the month. However someone had gone some way to fixing it so at least all the paddles worked (with a lot of effort on our part!) and it very slowly filled with water. Ze, the mum of the little boy spoke good English and was very interested in what was happening so we talked her through the working of the lock. Meanwhile granny looked after her grandson in the bow. We were amused to see the comfortable collapsible chair we placed in the bow (there’s only room for one) for one of the adults to use was actually given to the child to sit on! The granny had a sad air about her which was unsurprising when Ze told me her father had recently died from covid in the Ukraine. Ze and her son had arrived on their own in the UK but when their host family learnt of Ze’s father’s sudden death they managed to find another family living in the same road who were happy to have Ze’s mum come and stay. It is a comfort for them all to be together especially as Ze is an only child so they are a very small family unit. When we stopped for a light lunch Ze produced some delicious homemade wraps and a traditional Ukrainian chocolate marbled bread that they had found in a bakery in Hertford. We were surprised, aside from the time spent working the two locks, how quickly the journey passed, Hertford really only being a stone’s throw from Ware. Before we knew it we were turning the boat in the Hertford basin and mooring up in a space recently vacated by another boater, who called out to us at the water tap that there was room for us in the spot he had just left. The short walk into the town centre made us realise what a great mooring we had and we enjoyed exploring the museum, castle, shops, churches and pubs over the next couple of days. It seems to be a bigger town than our home in Surrey and although I remembered some of it from my youth I was amazed how extensive it was and how attractive some of it is. My main memory was going to the dentist in Hertford, (who put me off going to the dentist for life!), the department store (sadly no more) Iceland frozen foods (now an M&S food store – much more upmarket!), innovative in its time and all the grey looking men in dull clothing who I now suppose must have been survivors of WWII and were weary with life and perhaps suffering from PTSD which wasn’t talked about in those terms.

The town was certainly more colourful on the Sunday afternoon. We had attended St Andrew’s church in the morning, where my parents worshipped after dad retired from Gt Amwell and were delighted to meet people who remembered them well, especially one lady who said her husband visited my dad twice a week to help him with his paperwork, a task that got steadily harder as his sight and memory failed him. The service responses were sung throughout, which reminded me of dad as he always did the same and there was much similarity to the church of my youth so it was a comforting place to be. The contrast to our afternoon was striking, as Hertford became alive with music at its 17th music mystery festival – 35 local pubs hosting musicians who did one hour sets from lunchtime into the evening. The extensive program was a bit overwhelming but I spied an Abba duo performing in a nice looking pub along the High St where we managed to find a couple of comfortable armchairs and armed with cocktails, enjoyed a couple of hours of entertainment, whilst I got out my knitting!! I did also get up and dance when I could resist it no longer and even got R on the makeshift dance floor! However as the afternoon wore on it was a bit depressing seeing the effects of too much alcohol in the streets and the presence of police cars with their sirens wailing. Overall though, I would think most people, of which there were many, had a great time and just enjoyed listening to so many different bands and genres of music. Later in the evening we visited the ‘Hertford Club’ and enjoyed the performance of an older couple who sang mainly folksy songs but with a plethora of unusual instruments. As we arrived at the club we bumped into an old family friend who had been at mum’s Thanksgiving service but actually lives in another of the local towns so that was a happy surprise encounter!

Bank holiday Monday we explored more of Hertford and returned to Ware on Tuesday morning along with P and two Ukranian mums and their children. One of the children, although only about 9 years old, had excellent English and a great love of nature and wildlife. He explained to me that a coot has a white bill whereas a moorhen has a red one. He told me there was a mum and a baby coot and when I asked how he could tell he explained that the bread he had fed the mother she immediately passed on to her baby. I was impressed by his observation skills, far greater than mine!

We had planned to go through Hardmead lock and moor up in Gt Amwell for a picnic lunch but on arrival at the lock we found one of the gates immovable, in a half open position. Deducing that we would not be able to move the submerged obstruction I rang the CRT and reported the faulty lock. We had no option than to turn around, find an alternative picnic spot and then moor up in Ware. It was yet another reminder that whatever plans we may have on our narrowboat journey we are at the mercy of forces beyond our control and much patience and adaptability is needed!

Another brief sojourn at home to assist daughter Ho but also to see my brother before he returns to Austria having come over for mum’s Thanksgiving service. We returned to the boat on Tuesday morning in time to get the boat ship shape before the arrival of some ukranian guests in the afternoon. First we had to move the boat, which was double moored to the orange carrot – health and safety regulations would have been broken trying to let anyone get aboard, such was the precariousness of the stern entrance in relation to K’s boat. K needed to fill her tank with water but was facing in the wrong direction so R helped her reverse down the cut, a tricky manoeuvre. Meanwhile I found a more suitable mooring for Naomhog where our guests could board with ease even though they still had to walk the plank. They arrived armed with a homemade apple cake, which tasted delicious and much appreciated once we had cruised the cut for a couple of hours, which included involving them in operating a lock. They were a couple with a teenage daughter who spoke very good English, it being her third language – russian was her first followed by ukranian. She spent most of her time acting as a translator for her parents and I was struck at what a burden that was on her young shoulders. The father did also used a translator app – he was fascinated by the boat and it’s engine so had lots of questions that I was relieved R was around to answer! We had a lovely afternoon, in glorious weather, but by the time they left us we were tired by the long day and fell into bed, only to be awoken in the early hours by thunder and rain. Too late I remembered that we had not erected the pram stern cover and because the night had been so warm, I had left the side hatch open and one of the sides to the bow. Oh dear, there was a lot of water everywhere and a few sodden items, some of which I threw out! Lesson learned – look at the weather app before bed!

We were due to have more guests in the morning but it was raining steadily and looked set in for the day. However Ro, who was coming for a second visit with her young grandson, was not put off as she had plenty of waterproofs! We agreed to meet in the afternoon along with her ukranian lodgers. It was lovely to all meet up again and to have two grannies with their grandsons. So much commonality and yet such different backgrounds and circumstances. Miraculously the weather improved and we all enjoyed a dry trip to the water tap and back, stopping for a picnic tea en route, near to where we had parked our car. R took the opportunity to off load excess belongings which need to return home. I am realising how easy it is to just accumulate too much stuff on the boat, so every so often we have to declutter, which is very good for us! Where I had moored was pretty precarious – our plank was only just long enough to stretch to the tow path. I had moored in a similar spot last Friday when four girl friends from home had come to visit me. That day we alighted for a late lunch, managing to find a picnic bench with seats but they also had to walk the plank as mooring here is quite precarious! I am getting very familiar with this stretch of the river as I pootle up and down and to date we have been very blessed with the weather. The Lea valley is a hidden gem and well worth a visit.

We invited our neighbours for a drink as I have met them a few times on the towpath but never long enough to have an involved conversation. It transpired her 50th birthday was on Wednesday so it was a good excuse to celebrate with them. They bought their widebeam a few months previously having tired of paying rent for a house that would never be theirs. They run a business from home, computer based, so have no need of being in one static location. Prior to their purchase they had never been on a canal boat so it has been a steep learning curve for them! It’s been pretty steep for us but at least we had a six month trial run and still have a house we can escape to when necessary. This couple seem very relaxed and happy and Ti especially is enjoying all the DIY. I wish I could say the same for R!

Today has been a day of rest, with no movement of the boat. We visited a recommended coffee van with excellent vegan carrot cake which has only been operating for six months. The location is perfect, next to the Amwell reservoir, with tables where you can relax and enjoy the beautiful view and appreciate the peace and quiet. We then wandered around Ware which is a very pleasant, if slightly sleepy town, with many one-off shops in the high street. The library was a particularly good find – a short walk from the boat, free wi-fi, a specific area where you can plug in and work on your computer, many magazines to just sit and read in comfy chairs. A large children’s section where parents and carers can bring their young ones. On reflection all libraries should be like this and it seems to me important to support them so that they do not become a thing of the past. The atmosphere is so soporific I might even fall asleep before I finish this blog!

Apologies for the radio silence to those who actually get some entertainment value from hearing about my exploits! It’s been a bit hectic, more off the boat than on but now in the peace of the early hours I can gather my thoughts and reflect on the past couple of weeks.

A train trip to London on Tuesday 2nd August, to briefly visit daughter Ha in her new home, was a further trip down memory lane as I arrived at Liverpool St from St Margaret’s train station. We used to try and persuade dad to drop us at Broxbourne for the fast train into town but as St Margaret’s is only a couple of miles from our old home, it was the more usual route and easily walkable. Not that I did that too often, being far lazier than I am now about walking! I was relieved to hear from my brother that the beautiful reservoirs adjacent to the River Lea were not here 30 years ago – they used to be disused gravel pits! So happy that I hadn’t actually failed to notice them in my youth. Am still pretty shocked that I don’t remember taking myself off for walks along the riverside. Partly due to the fact that it wasn’t as attractive back in the day but also, the New River runs almost parallel to the River Lea so we would walk that path. There’s a small picturesque island below St John’s church in Gt Amwell next to a bridge and my memories of piling onto the bridge, to listen to madrigals being sung once a year in July, are very clear. Sadly one of the two stunningly beautiful willow trees on the island, has had to be removed, so the island is not looking quite as magical as I remember. It is still a local beauty spot and Gt Amwell itself, a very pleasant village to take a walk around.

On the Monday morning of that week I met with a group of Ukranian mum’s and children which resulted in a mum, her mother, her child and a teenage boy coming on the boat for a trip to Hertford in the afternoon. On Tuesday morning of that week another mum with two small children joined me for a trip towards Stanstead Abbots, which included an impromptu picnic lunch on the stern. The discovery of a pot of Nutella, left onboard by daughter Ho, was an added delight to the children! Then on the Thursday one of the host families came aboard as I moved the boat to moor next to the ‘orange carrot’ so K could keep an eye on it. The joy on the faces of our Ukranian visitors made me feel I was using the boat to good purpose. Although verbal communication is limited with some of them, their eyes reflected what they felt. It still amazes me the effect that a trip on the water can have. Somehow the peacefulness and the beauty of being so close to nature soothes the soul. All the adults said they had had an unforgettable day allowing them to briefly forget their troubles. For me, the best part is sharing food together and learning more about my guests, although being careful not to ask questions that may bring up painful memories and thoughts. My hope is that, now back on the boat, I shall be able to offer more short trips before heading back into London in September. I am in no hurry to leave as this is such a lovely place to be and Ware is an attractive small town to walk around.

I was very grateful to have my friend K to help though, with the trips, as R went home to assist Ho with her broken foot and associated immobility. An extra pair of hands is vital to operate the locks and manoeuvre the boat safely as the mum’s with children need to be aware of where and what their kids are up to at all times! Fortunately we have life jackets of varying sizes which the children wear but they are fairly bulky and in the recent extreme heat, not very comfortable!

The trip to Hertford was not without its challenges, the first being the dreadful state of the Ware lock paddles. Each had their own attached windlass, only one was missing making one paddle inoperable. Of the remaining three paddles, one of the paddles didn’t operate at all and one took me about a hundred turns of the windlass to get it to move! I seriously thought I was going to get stuck in the lock overnight at one point!! However I rang the CRT to alert them (as I am sure plenty of other boaters have done before me!) and today I heard from another boater that the lock has been sorted although it still takes an age to fill. I shall at some point give it another go because I would love to spend a couple of days exploring Hertford. We did find some fantastic blackberries, only accessible from the boat, fairly precarious to pick, but worth the stretch. I made pots of blackberry compote – very satisfying with my limited galley facilities. It was a step too far to make jam – probably would have used up my gas bottle!

There was a hairy moment when I came across a tree trunk in the water and a tiny sign indicating to go left, which I didn’t see until far too late and ended up having to reverse the boat whilst trying to avoid the tree and get back on course, all in front of some picnickers who wondered what on earth I was doing!

With no further trips on the immediate horizon, I unexpectedly returned home to help R with his nursing duties! K was more than happy to keep an eye on my boat, which she moored alongside her own and her mum came and stayed a night on, which was helpful for her. The fuel boat passed by and K got them to top up our tank. A few days later she noticed a bit of diesel in the water. Investigating, she found a small leak coming from my boat – very kindly she took the boat to the nearby marina. Meanwhile she was updating me whilst I was by now at the seaside for a week. It’s a bit nerve wracking whenever you find your boat has any kind of leak especially the older it gets as rust scenarios creep into your head! However they found the cause relatively easily – one of the rivets inserted to hold the canvas up and over cover has pierced the diesel tank. Due to the extremely hot weather the two metals have expanded at different rates causing a leakage, only an issue when the tank is fully filled! Some diesel was syphoned off and the boat booked in for repair yesterday.

I returned to Naomhòg on Tuesday and moved the boat opposite to the marina, fortunate to get a mooring right outside the pub. Wednesday was the Thanksgiving service for my mum, which was an emotional but uplifting day, as we met up with so many old friends and family who we hadn’t seen for years, mainly due to them living abroad and not able to get home because of covid. We stayed the night with the family at a local hotel, but had to nip out before breakfast yesterday to move the boat to the boatyard by 0830! I returned at lunchtime to see what was happening, dropped off by my brother who then left me, along with the rest of the family, so I very much felt a nomad as I couldn’t access the boat. I left my belongings in the marina office and walked back to Ware feeling bereft of both family and boat! Fortunately my good friend De was still in the vicinity because she, along with three other friends are joining me for a boat trip later today. So De and I spent time in Ware, even buying a bit of jewellery in the local jewelers, a memory of mum and early years spent in this neck of the woods. Then returning to the marina, unsurprisingly as it is the boating world, we find the repair not done, as it’s not urgent, the diesel level being below the leak. All that effort to get the boat to the right place at the right time. Mick, the mechanic, is now away for ten days so I rebook for another date and De and I move the boat back to Ware. That entails two very slow filling locks and a crash course for De who has never set foot on a narrowboat before! Luckily the weather is beautiful and we have a pleasant meander back to the town centre. Passing a boat under construction a head pops out and the guy aboard says ‘I built your boat’. What are the chances of that?! After mooring up I go and chat to him amazed by the coincidence considering it was built over 15 years ago and Liverpool Boats no longer exist. Small world!

I returned to the boat yesterday after an eventful holiday due to our eldest daughter falling down two steps and breaking her 5th metatarsal in her foot. I’ve been in nursing mode for a week and apparently the considerable pain she is in will continue for a further week or so – amazing how many people have broken that particular bone and can strongly empathize. Meanwhile we delayed our return to the boat (fortunately it was in a marina) and were able to enjoy another few days of glorious weather on the East coast. The sea was the warmest I have ever known – may just be Sizewell B warming it up!

I really am learning not to plan too far in advance because so many unexpected things seem to stop us in our tracks. I have offered to give some boat trips along the River Lee to the Ukrainians who are living nearby but obviously this has been delayed. However R said he was happy to take over nursing duties as mainly Ho needs regular food and drink and plenty of TLC. So yesterday he drove me to the boat en route home, with Ho reclining on the back seat. It was a bit of a squash but we managed to fit us all in and by mid afternoon I was back in boating mode, checking battery levels, refilling the water tank and generally getting the boat ready to move. All my flowers were in great shape because the kind guy in the boat berthed next to mine had watered them every day! Being alone is a bit unexpected and unnerving as I don’t know this area, as far as mooring goes and have no idea what the locks will be like. However the reason for buying a short narrowboat was so that I could manage it alone if need be, so now is as good a time as any to try it out! A lovely chap, who is liaising with me over the boat trips, was fortunately able to come and assist me with the three locks I needed to work in order to get the boat back on the River Lee and nearer to Gt Amwell. I was glad of help because the locks are a bit tricky and take a long time to fill. This is in part due to the force of the water entering the lock – if you open both paddles fully the water whooshes in at such a rate the boat bangs from side to side. There are notices telling you to only open one paddle and until the lock is half full, to only half open the paddle! You can imagine how slow this is so a great deal of patience is needed. On the upside, the River Lee is beautiful and there are reservoirs of water and plenty of bird sanctuaries for twitchers – how I never realised how attractive it all was, I have no idea.

Even more surprising to me is quite how close the River Lee is to my childhood home. After I moored the boat, I walked across a railway line and within a couple of minutes walk, found myself almost at the bottom of the church steps. Why did I never walk there as a child? (My brother told me that was because I never walked unless absolutely necessary. Always had my head in a book!) I vaguely remember the floods of 1966 or thereabouts and my dad going out in a dinghy to help rescue people, resulting in him being seriously ill. I should have realised we lived near a lot of water!

It has been a trip down memory lane. Today began with K, from the long orange boat, arriving with freshly picked blackberries which we shared for breakfast along sitting on a picnic bench located by the towpath. She is minding a gentle labrador for a friend so they both came with me to the morning church service, which was held on the ‘Glebe field’ followed by coffee and lots of homemade cake! Growing up, the field was almost an extension of our vicarage garden. Now there is such a thick hedge you can barely see the house. The ‘new’ village hall (the old one burnt down when I was a child) looked almost the same, with the addition of an outside covered area. Sadly I didn’t recognise anyone, hardly surprising, and a reminder of how many years have quickly passed.

K and I walked into Stanstead Abbots so I could get some food from the small local Co-op and then walked back along the towpath to the boat. The fridge was flashing at me, indicating low batteries, so I am thinking of investing in a solar panel. I had to run the engine to recharge the batteries but I’d rather not have to do this – if we move daily it’s not such a problem but sometimes it’s nice to stay put for a couple of days.

Later on I walked into Ware, partly to see what the mooring is like (pins and gang planks seem the order of the day!) and also to see how the town has developed. Much of it is the same just with different shop fronts – so many restaurants and charity shops. There are some lovely waterside flats – the whole area looks far more attractive than I remember and all within easy commutable distance to London. Overhearing a conversation about football I suddenly remembered the ladies football match between England and Germany – luckily iPlayer on my phone meant I could watch it whilst walking back to the boat!