Good food

Mally and Richard paid a visit, a weekend away for them to celebrate their wedding anniversary. This had a distinct advantage to me as the food they brought along was top notch. Richard’s cooking is always first class, but even better when they are celebrating. We made a stop for lunch of two types of smoked salmon and asparagus.

Left to me it would have been bread and cheese.

Being another long bank holiday weekend it was busy, we had to wait at most of the locks. At one I talked to the owners of Bumble. In the short time we talked he told me the boat was new to them, they sold their old boat after 20 years for £2,000 less than they paid for it and were told they should have sold it for more. He also went into details how he fell in whilst painting the side, how his relatives have bought a wide beam boat, where he comes from, how often he boats etc, etc. He talked to Mally as I brought the boat into the lock, telling her exactly the same. They were only talking for a short time so he must have talked very fast.

After a day made challenging by the wind we stopped by an open field at Somerton. Cattle roamed the field including calves and bulls. As Mally sat on the loo one licked at the bathroom window giving her the fright of her life.

Whilst on the

subject of toilets, whilst moored at Thrupp Richard left saying, “I’m going for a walk along the towpath.” I guessed it was really a euphemism for going to the toilet block, I was right. It paints quite a pleasant picture and one I shall use myself, it sounds so much more refined than “I’m going to the loo.”

Over dinner prepared by Richard we talked, amongst other things, about my dress sense, or lack of it. I haven’t bought new clothes in years and describe myself as “Man at Oxfam.” I am told Oxfam is far too posh and up market, apparently I look more like “Man at Cat Rescue.”

The wind was even stronger on the return journey, especially through the open section where the sidewind pushed the bow towards the bank. Most of the journey was made “crabbing” along the canal, bow towards the left bank, stern to the right. Entering locks tidily was all but impossible. Having moored up to prepare the lock, as soon as the bow was pushed out, the wind pushed it back in before any progress could be made.

We passed a boat called Snecklifter. “That’s a beer isn’t it?” I asked it’s owner.

He smiled, “You are the first person to know what it is.”

I am now moored up at Shipton on Cherwell, a nice quite spot to spend a few days. A boat trundled by covered in Bonsai tree, so much more classy than pansies.