I’ll start this post with a mention of the late queen – I’m no great monarchist and neither is my elderly neighbour, but as she pointed out, this is history (or soon will be) so we should at least take notice while it’s happening. Yesterday (Sunday), you may have missed the sound of bells floating across the fields to the canal – this is why. Church bells were to be rung ‘fully muffled’, and as this is only ever done for the death of the monarch (or the diocesan bishop, but I guess only if they die in office) it’s something all ringers want to experience - it may not happen again in our lifetime. It’s weird. Normally when you ring there is a lot of noise in the ringing chamber (the bit where you stand and pull the ropes) and you have to raise your voice to be heard. With full muffles on all you hear is a vague musical humming rumble with a loud ‘bong’ every so often – the tenor bell (that’s the biggest, with the lowest note) is only half-muffled, so it acts as a kind of tolling as was heard the day after she died. I don’t know what our bells sounded like outside, but listen to this YouTube of the Carfax bells in Oxford ringing muffled. After the service we sang ‘God save the King' for the first time. The hardest bit is remembering to sing he/him instead of she/her but as I’m in the choir I’d had time to change the words in the hymn book in advance! I’m sure mistakes will be made for months or years to come as it’s not something we sing very often. Next week we will be ringing half-muffled – you hear one descending scale of the normal bell sound, followed by what sounds like an echo. It’s a lovely sound, even though it’s only done for sad reasons.
September 1st; Oxford to past Kirtlington
The grand intention was to make an early start, but when we woke up we found we should already have left, so that put paid to that! We managed to get away at about 9, retracing our steps out of Oxford. Frenchay bridge has artwork on several surfaces – this splendid kingfisher is underneath it.
At Roundham lock an interesting addition has been made to the poo bin.
Last time we went down to Oxford I really struggled with some of the lift bridges. The one under the A34 bridge was particularly difficult as it wouldn’t stay open, and now it is being replaced. The stoppage notice says there may be delays, but not at the moment, though the sound of a pneumatic drill was heard as we approached.
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| Looks like a major job |
The work on the towpath side has been completed – easy bit first!
The water point above Duke’s lock was free, so we stopped to fill up. Then as we left the racket of the A-roads behind, something else was even louder – a survey helicopter inspecting the electricity cables and pylons.
It must be a very skilled job piloting one of these – the helicopter hovered at what looked to be 25 yards or less from the cables. We had a brief visit from another flying object – this one looks as though someone with oily fingers picked it up by its wings. But its body is a lovely green.
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| Damselfly |
We stopped below Roundham lock for lunch, and then Dave took the dog for a walk and it was a trip up to Kidlington shops for me – the butcher, hardware store, Tesco and a charity shop which had a decent-sized dish for lasagne in the window. As I returned I saw the lock gates were open but no boat was in sight – I looked the other way and there was Bonjour on her way.
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| Approaching Roundham lock |
Timed to perfection! As we rose up the lock I chatted to a group of youngsters having their lunch. They were going on an expedition paddle-boarding down to King’s Lock on the Thames. Me: are you camping? Them: yes and we haven’t got any tents! The chap in charge said it was just for one night – last year he took them to Snowdonia and it was so wet they all had to sleep in the minivan rather than under the stars.
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It was pretty windy at Thrupp but we got round the bridge and bend ok as another boater was nearby with their key of power so I didn't have to get off. I do wonder about the safety of the novice canoeists round here. They were milling about all over the place by the tearoom where they hire them from, then we kept encountering them – some knew what to do as 15 tons of steel bear down on them, others haven’t a clue. As we approached Shipton Weir lock I had to go forward and ask a couple to move so we could pull in– they had tied up smack in the middle of the lock landing. They did pull forward - all they wanted was a break and a bit of chocolate - but blank incomprehension met my explanation as I walked up to open the lock.
We cruised up the river section, rose up Baker’s lock and crept past the long line of moored boats at Enslow. One boater has clearly been upset by various aspects of life on the cut.
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| An Enslow comment |
We had hoped to moor at Pigeon lock but no space was left. We realised our fenders aren’t up to stopping on the Kirtlington quarry moorings so we went on a few hundred yards and picked a spot where a fallen tree had been cleared leaving an open mooring with a handy workbench for rubbing down one’s boat poles
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| Bored dog |
and painting them.
The Cherwell behind the trees was hardly moving. If we hadn’t known it was a river we would have thought it was a long thin pond.
10½ miles, 7 locks, 3 lift bridges.
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