Oh No, Not More Groupies

I was a bit dismissive of Market Drayton in my last blog and omitted to mention that we did do a walking tour of the town and saw the grammar school of its most famous resident -Clive of India- and the supposed birth place of gingerbread - apologies Market Drayton. At the top of the five locks we passed Tyrley Wharf where we saw a boat claiming Kimbolton as its home. As former residents of a village just outside Kimbolton we sought intelligence from the WHs who confirmed  it did indeed belong to the former owners of the Kimbolton pharmacy who had retired to these parts. Small world.
 

After this the canal plunged into the very deep rock cutting near Woodseaves and further on the even longer and overgrown Grub Street Cutting. You can't help but be impressed by the magnitude of work like this, cut as it was entirely by men without powered machines. The cutting featured the well known High Bridge with a masonry strut built across its high arch to carry a short telegraph pole.

 

 

Here, the Shropshire Union pays little regard to the topography and follows a remarkably straight line thanks in equal measure to deep cuttings and high embankments that give impressive views over the quiet, empty landscape.  In essence 7 miles of lockless cruising to Wheaton Aston. Clearly visible to the south west was the massive bulk of the Wrekin.

Overnighting at Norbury Junction, this was once the outlet for the Shrewsbury, Newport and Tench branches to the rest of the Shropshire Union system. A short walk and you could see the remains of the long lock flight that once ran down to Newport. Only the top lock remains now being used as a dock. The place was very busy and we got the last mooring, unfortunately next to a boat with two extremely noisy small dogs. How can owners ignore the constant yap yap yap of these animals? Phoebe was very disdainful.    

Next day we passed under the wonderfully short Cowley tunnel, a mere 81 yards, and into yet more unspoilt, quiet grazing land. The embankment here was rich in wildlife and we saw at least five grey herons each of whom seemed to be patrolling a section of the canal as their own territory. A fairly unsocial bird they tend to fly off before you get too close, but I did capture one on camera and if you look closely you can even see it in flight. Not a bad effort considering I was helming at the time.

 

And so over the Stretton Aqueduct, an elegant cast iron structure crossing the dead straight Wattling Street section of the A5, and on to Autherly Junction. Another pump out, this time an expensive one at the Napton Narrowboats yard where we learnt how slow business was and what good deals were available for late bookers - £500 a week reduction on a 70 foot rental boat. We also learnt it was a good job the captain had amended the spreadsheet so as to avoid Birmingham as the Wolverhampton and Darlaston canal was closed after a lock was pointlessly vandalised.

Passing through another of those stop locks we turned left into the Staffordshire and  Worcestershire Canal. A sharp contrast to the Shropshire Union, its considerable age is shown by its extremely twisting course making passing, especially near its many bridges great fun - code for hairy!

The weather was grim and it had gone cold again. We nearly relit the stove but made do with a quick burst from the central heating convinced it could only get better. Our confidence was well founded as we were about to welcome visitors who were seeking a second Fandango experience. Gluttons for punishment, I fear the WHs must have got the narrow boat bug or had been brainwashed by the captain.  We were up early to get to the agreed pick up spot of Baswich and also so we could get some decaffinated coffee for our guests. 

Seeking directions from a helpful towpath walker I was initially given comprehensive directions through an adjoining housing estate.  Deciding such a trek required the bike I offloaded and headed in the recommended direction only to pass my original guide.  Hang on he said, I think I've given you the wrong directions and he proceeded with another complicated set of contradictory instructions.  As a grey mist clouded my brain I decided just to head into the housing estate and find another guide. Within minutes I'd found another local who said, see that church spire just up the road, the supermarket is right beside it. My poor towpath guide would have given me enough exercise for a week using his directions. 

And did I need the decaf coffee? No, for the WHs arrived not only with the coffee but home baked bread, cake, wine and fizz. Oh, and of course the sun was shining brightly as it did throughout their visit. No wonder they have such a rosy picture of narrowboating. 

Comfortably aboard we headed off along the valley of the River Sow crossing it on an early James Brindley aqueduct before entering Tixall Wide, an amazing and delightful stretch of water. It was built to resemble a lake and so not compromise the views from the now demolished Tixall House. All that remains is the remarkable Tixall Gatehouse, grand enough on its own to appear as some country mansion. Said to be famous for its kingfishers, we lingered over a lazy lunch in warm sunshine but saw none.

 

At Haywood Juction we rejoined the Trent and Mersey Canal last seen in early May. After a quick reverse to get water and visit the farm shop for dinner supplies (wonderful fresh sausages) we went down the Haywood lock and stopped again at Shugborough Hall. There was only one mooring left and it was quite tight so we were a bit surprised when the adjoining boaters completely blanked us (you normally get a helping hand with lines from fellow boaties in such situations) and continued reading their books in a private little clearing they had made in the undergrowth - urbs in rure?

Walking across the beautiful private bridge into the estate we discovered a weekend food festival that unfortunately was just closing for the day but we heard the final live music before giving Phoebe a swim in the river and returning for an on board supper.  And those sausages were fantastic.

 

As the WHs were on board we were again blessed with a beautiful morning and all bar me sported shorts in celebration. I need a bit more heat before I expose my legs. Sian made a real fashion statement wearing her bright blue shorts with walking boots - very Glastonbury.  We continued past Rugeley where its huge power station took some time to recede and had a bit of emergency reversing to do at a narrow stone cutting to accommodate an oncoming boat. This had once been the Armitage Tunnel, removed in 1971 to combat the effects of subsidence from early coal mining - no evidence at all of that bygone industry now.

 

  Our final stop with the WHs was Fradley Junction where we lucked in with an excellent mooring thanks to late departer. Good job too as there were no more left down either canal. A really popular spot for narrow boats and gongoozlers alike, we squeezed into the White Swan pub for a meal. The portions were so huge we took an enormous carry out of meat that provided an ample meal for us the following day. Sitting beside us were a man and a woman who turned out to cousins. Probably in their early 70's, he had retired to Thailand ten years earlier but returned each year for two weeks to helm her narrow boat as she didn't like 'driving'. Now that's a holiday in reverse if I ever I heard of one.

 

With a taxi on its way we bid our new groupies farewell in the knowledge it would be raining the next day - typical.