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Thursday 28^th July; Hopwas woods back to Pooley Woods, via the Tamhorn winding hole

Apart from a tawny owl or two it was a quiet night.  There may have been some sun first thing, but we were a bit in the trees so couldn’t really see.  I went to take Meg for an early walk in the woods but we couldn't go in!  Red flag flying!  albeit rather limply.

Keep out! Military about!

We walked instead along the towpath, and also back to the village to try and find a post-box, but with no luck.  We set off mid-morning for the winding hole between Tamhorn House and Tamhorn Farm bridges (named rather than numbered in the Birmingham and Fazeley fashion, as I believe this stretch was built, or at least funded, by the B&F company).  It was a straightforward turn, which Dave could easily have completed without recourse to the bow thruster, but he thought, why?  The single burst of the bow thruster meant that we avoided another forward-and-back with the engine so probably saved a teaspoon or two of diesel – one to think about for the future.  On the way back we saw an irrigation system at work.

Now, obviously some crops need extra water when there has been no rain (and we couldn’t tell what this was beyond the bank – it could have been potatoes).  But as a gardener I know that watering in the daytime, from above the foliage, wastes a hell of a lot of water through evaporation as it is caught on the leaves and never reaches the ground.  It must cost a lot to spray water that doesn’t all get to the crop – how much more would it cost to lay leaky-pipes along the rows?  Probably a lot in equipment or it would have been done already.  I know it’s not cheap in a greenhouse!

As it was elevenses time we had a little snack with our tea, closely monitored by Meg …

Not so much His Master’s Voice, more Her Master’s Cookie

We reached the end of the woods where another limp red flag proclaimed military activity – of which we saw and heard not a jot. 

We did though spot the rocky clearing we have found on previous walks here.

Forbidden today

We stopped for lunch before Fazeley Junction, not too fussed about getting to Glascote locks – they would be what they would be, so we were relaxed about setting off again.  As we approached the junction, a boat pulled out from the water point, but quickly let us past – very thoughtful.  But then, I think it was shortly after the Tame Aqueduct where there is a big road bridge crossing at an angle at a right-angled bend, we had a nasty shock!  Going at a suitably slow speed, we were perfectly positioned with good visibility to go under the bridge and turn left when a bow appeared at a rate of knots! The group in the bow shouted at the helm, who slammed into reverse and just about missed us – having forced us into the concrete edge to avoid a collision with his boat.  He just sailed on regardless, no apology and not even looking at us (although the young man with him looked distinctly uncomfortable).  It took us a bit of manoeuvring to get out of the bend. There might have been a tinge of blue in the air.

I got off the boat with my windlass a bit before the locks, which appeared deserted – and the bottom lock was actually empty!  I had it open before Dave arrived, and then the crew from the boat behind came to help, so all was peachy.  She told me they saw plainly what had happened at the bridge – it was clear there was nothing we could have done, and the steerer of the speeding boat (the name I remember clearly, a hyphenated combination of two shortened names, one of which was BRI) was drinking, and also failed to meet their eyes!  They had been happy to let us pass as they were expecting a series of phone calls which they may have had to pull in to take.  She looked after the top gates and sent me on to open up the top lock, which was also nice and empty, so as we left I raised a bottom paddle for them.

I always enjoy looking at the gardens in Amington, many of which are extremely thin!  This one wasn’t though.  We have seen several giraffes in gardens as we have cruised, but not many are positioned so they can at least have the semblance of enjoying a good leafy munch.

This was one of the thinnest gardens.  I had serious onion envy here!

We passed the marina and wondered at the Samuel Barlow pub – is it closed completely at the moment, or just for the afternoon?  All the blinds and curtains were drawn and it looked as dead as a doornail.

We carried on to Pooley Woods where we moored close to where we were the other night.  I left Dave busy with the new varnish pot and walked into Polesworth to get some much-needed cough mixture, the bottle I bought in Market Bosworth having run out.  The river Anker separates the village from the canal.

The Anker from the road bridge

I returned to the canal and walked on past bridge 52 to find the footpath which avoids the roads – the greengrocer had already closed by the time I got there this afternoon and we need some veg.  So the plan is to stop here tomorrow on our way through.  As I returned along the towpath I spotted this poetic tribute to the miners of the past near bridge 54. 

Dave meanwhile had been investigating the tins of paint that were on the boat, and found a lovely red to do some touching up.

9 miles, 2 locks