After setting off on Friday morning it was a bit of a rush to be back in striking distance of home in three days to keep a few appointments, one being at the doctors.
I rang the surgery in April to book an appointment with my GP. “I’m looking at the end of May and there are still no free bookings,” the receptionist told me.
“End of May! I might be dead by then.”
“If it’s urgent we can book you in earlier.” That’s a relief!
“No it’s not urgent, but I might still be dead and if I am, I’m really concerned I wont be able to cancel it. I’ve seen the notices in the waiting room, I know you hate it when people don’t turn up to appointments. Perhaps they are all dead. I think you should check it out.”
So I was on a mission, if I didn’t turn up they would probably inform the police. Progress along the Grand Union was swift, not a single lock to be negotiated. Once on the Oxford Canal the Napton flight were looming. I flew through the nine locks, hardly stepping on dry land. Each lock timed to perfection, a boat exiting as I arrived, one arriving as I left. Kind assistance wasn’t always well thought out. As I sat in a lock two people opened both ground paddles fully at speed, from the back I could see the front of the boat rise at an alarming speed, seconds later it was hurtling backwards towards the bottom gate, forward thrust saving me whacking the gates, then as the water reached the back of the lock it threw the boat forward, this time reverse was not enough to save the situation and I hit the top gate hard. In future I will be firm with well intentioned assistance.
I so often see boats in locks, somebody at the tiller engaging the boat in firm forward or reverse to maintain the position in the centre of the lock, yet when I am by myself using the paddles gently as nobody is on the boat, there is almost no movement. People often wonder how I manage alone, “It must be really difficult,” they say. It’s not. Follow a simple procedure and it’s no more difficult than with a crew, it just takes a bit longer.
It’s a great time to be on the canals, ducks and their squadrons of kids lurk
around every corner. Some of the kids are split from mum as the boat passes, panic sets on, their little legs go like the clappers as they tear along like a speed boat in a vain attempt to get around the front of the boat before they give up knackered.
On entering Banbury there was a big commotion in a tree ahead, a number of birds fell out hitting the water, one remained there flapping in distress. Once past I could see it was a young pigeon, so I fetched my net, went into reverse and saved the thing by putting it on the back. It probably died, it certainly would have done if it used the same doctor as me, but at least it had a fighting chance of survival on dry land. Job done the boat blocked the canal, wedge against a moored boat at the front. I walked the gunwales and pushed myself off, a passing walker saying, “Those boats are difficult to handle aren’t they.”
“Not really, I got into a mess trying to rescue a bird from the water.”
He said nothing, he didn’t have to, “Yeah, right,” was etched across his face.
On Sunday evening I moored at Somerton. I could have gone further, but I love the open field and cattle there, it’s my favourite mooring, this was already my third visit.
I cycled to my meetings on Monday. Rumour had it contracts would be exchanged on the house. “Oh really,” said my solicitor when I saw her. It had been a rumour.
Dampness has already arrived back in the lounge of my house where it was flooded in December. Next was a joint call from the insurance company and the company who did the drying. The driers blamed 18 inches of damp course which is too high.
“Is that right?” I said sarcastically. “So never having a problem in 15 years and following the driest spring since records began,
water has seeped in and reached the ceiling, but it has nothing to do with hundreds of gallons of water running down the walls from a burst pipe.”They paid a second visit to drill holes in the wall and poke probes in. “It’s because of the water butt,” they told me. They are desperate, I assume they are going to have to pay for re-plastering and redecorating if they are found culpable. I am not a happy bunny.
I’m heading back for Banbury. Unfortunately there are few water points and no elsan disposal between Thrupp and Banbury, so having not filled the former or emptied the latter for two weeks it is becoming priority. I stopped at Adderbury opposite a farm making their own sausage, so ventured in with no intention of parting with cash. I walked out with home made sausages, two duck eggs and a goose egg. Don’t worry, I did pay. The goose egg was a whopper, boiled for 12 minutes for breakfast, a perfect soft boiled egg, highly recommended.
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