Rather wet

Thursday 15^th November; Perdiswell Park to Dunhampstead

We hadn’t planned to do a lot this morning – the forecast was horrible.  But we did need to be much closer to the marina by nightfall, so I made a quick dash up to Lidl for bread and milk when the rain seemed to be a bit lighter so we would be able to leave when it stopped.  The trouble was, by the time I had splashed through the flooded footpath under the railway to the road, it was pouring again!

And I hadn’t put wet weather trousers on, so a quick change was needed when I got back.  We got on with a few little indoor jobs, then the rain really did ease off and Meg got a decent walk in the park, before we had an early lunch and set off as the sun came out.

Ready for the off, with wet towels in the cratch

The grass around the locks was very wet, of course, but my walking boots kept my feet warm and dry.  It did mean, though, that I couldn’t step across the bottom gates when I closed them – I just don’t feel agile enough in boots, and anyway the soles were wet and I didn't want to risk slipping.

Pissers in Blackpole lock

Fungi at Tolladine lock

Under the main road bridge before the Offerton flight there is a different kind of graffiti – maybe done by female rugby fans?  (Sixways stadium, home of the Worcester Warriors rugby club which is currently in administration), is by the top lock.

HRT eh? shame about the ubiquitous tagging

The locks were mostly in our favour, and as the weather was calm Dave could close most of them up while I went ahead to open the next.  A bank of cloud was developing as we left the first, and it made a striking picture with the autumn colours glowing in the low sun.

But by the time we were at the top the sun was dropping and it had started to cloud up and get chilly.  The farm by the motorway either uses logs for all its heating or has a sideline in selling them.

The Oddingley mooring had space for us, but Dave wanted a lower edge so he could get the starboard side washed, so we moored at Dunhampstead just before 4 o'clock.  No time for a cuppa – the light was going already.  I cleared the window drain-holes while he cleaned the engine hole, then I retreated inside to tidy up while he washed the side of the boat.  I ran the Eberspacher for an hour to dry out wet clothes and towels, and lit the fire.  The rain started again at 5.  We couldn’t really hear the motorway from inside the boat, but the footpath from the bluebell woods to the village crosses the railway, and the toots from approaching trains were quite loud.  But they stopped around bedtime.

4½ miles, 8 locks