A Stoatin' Time on the Stort & Leaving London

Gorgeous Auntumnal Grand Union

It was the alternator.  We were all wrong.  Kitty was repatriated on 24 September, much sooner than anticipated and by the time we spoke to Caterham the following week, they had established the problem, fixed it, washed her and had her up on their website for sale!!  On 5 October we went to say goodbye to her (yes, I cried - again) and pick up some bits and pieces we’d left in her, including two bottles of Gayda wine we were sure would not make it.  I’m still sad.  It’s a reluctant sale, more reluctant than I ever thought it would be.

Anyway, back on the cut, James arrived on Wednesday evening, the 21^st, and we had a few beers some food and then James sat outside for 10 minutes to settle his sea-stomach.  In the morning the sun was out and with great enthusiasm from our new crew member (despite some sleep deprivation due to light coming in the cabin fairly early) we set off up the Stort.  It is very pretty, winding its way through some lovely countryside and under some very low bridges.  It’s not a long navigation but we decided to take our time and plodded along stopping for the night at Sawbridgeworth.

Still shorts weather as we get ready to leave Roydon

 

Loving the additional crew on the locks!

Pretty footbridge on the Stort

Sunglasses hiding the effects of sleep deprivation

Ramblers enjoying a day out

Couldn't have put it better myself

Misty mooring at Sawbridgeworth

We went for a walk around Sawbridgeworth where there were once many wharves for the malt houses.  Some of the malts have been kept and restored into flats but the wharves are long gone, though we did manage to find an old picture showing what the visitor mooring used to look like when the remains of its crane would have been in action.   After a pint in one of James’s haunts of his youth we headed back to the boat for dinner and drinks and enjoyed sitting out quite late for a September evening.

James was up sharp again the next morning (I really must get a bung for the Houdini hatch), and after a leisurely breakfast of bacon and egg rolls, we set off for Bishop’s Stortford.  Along the way James pointed out places of interest, such as the pub he worked at on the waterside as a teenager and the places his parents used to bring him and his brother for a day out.  It was most enjoyable having a local guide on board! 

A rare photo of the two of us reminding me that no eye make-up is not a good look!!  For me, not Mike.....

Our mooring at Bishop's Stortford c.2016

And our mooring as it was in 1987!  I think I preferred it then...

We arrived in the afternoon and went for a walking tour of the town where Mike convinced me to get a nano-sim so I could use his old iPhone as my Samsung was getting increasingly unreliable.  This opened a whole can of worms and unleashed a temper in me as I couldn’t get the iPhone or the Samsung to do what the guy in the shop said to do in order to transfer my contacts, but I’ve put that behind me and am now enjoying (don’t tell Mike) the reliability and better performance of the iPhone……..  A quick pass round Sainsburys and we then headed back to the boat to get ready for our night out on the town.  We ended up in the Wetherspoons (‘Spoons) on the canal, mainly just to check out what time they started breakfast the following day, but three pints later and James and I insisted we head for a curry.  Drinks accompanied the curry so the next morning the crew was not that sharp at all.  I felt rough as hell to be honest, but we had to up and at ‘em as we had plans to meet up with the rest of the Roberston family and their friends the Prescotts.  We headed back into London where we played table tennis and had some drinks at Bounce, had some pizza and fizz then headed back to the Prescott’s for a night cap – or two.  We walked back to the boat so that we could see the house James was brought up in.  The next morning we all convened on Quaintrelle (after a boater’s breakfast again at ‘Spoons), us, the Robertsons and the Prescotts and set off back to London – well, Mike and I were going back to London, but the rest would get off around Sawbridgeworth and take the train back to Stortford.

A rare action shot of Mike and even rarer one of me in a pub with a soft drink (photo courtesy of Vicki)

Vicki not taking this seriously at all.  Not a competitive bone in her body........ (ta for the use of the pics Vic xx)

PIZZZZZZAAAAAAA!!!!!!!

The Pride of Stortford not looking so proud :(

What????!!!!  Caitlin concentrating????!!!!!??? *faint*

Ollie taking the sunscreen thing a step too far

 

It is the face that only a mother could love.  Or a wife.  Nah...... just a mother.

After our guests had abandoned ship, we continued on, finally mooring up back at Roydon for the night, just below the lock.  It had been a long day after two heavy nights and we were shattered and glad to get moored up, fed and to bed.  The following day was another long one leaving the Stort and back on to the River Lee, where we stopped at Waltham Abbey for a wander and some shopping around 4pm, but then cruised on for a couple of hours while it was still light.  During the night I was sure I heard a horse whinnying but when I asked Mike if he had heard it, he hadn’t so I thought I must have dreamt it.  However, when we left the next morning, we passed this chap, whinnying to get back into his mates.

He was clearly quite distressed (and a bit neglected), so when we got to the lock, I ran back along the path to see if I could get it back to its field.  A female cyclist had also stopped and was quite concerned so we were relieved to find a bit of fencing tied with string that I undid and gave access to the field.  I was worried he would run away from me which was the wrong direction, but I managed to get past him and then shoo him back.  He started running when he saw the gap in the fence!  Once in, he stopped and started munching the grass – not a thank you passed his lips!!  A local chap appeared and said they belong to some gypsies and are always getting out, sometimes ending up on the road and the police have to be called.  The poor horse was not in great shape, very thin, and had a big boil under his eye, so I was glad I was able to get him back to his pals.

We went all the way into London alone, stopping for water at the slowest tap for over an hour, which did give us the chance to meet and talk to Rose, who lives on Bobbie Dazzler.  It was a pleasant way to spend the time and very nice to meet her and hear of her experience living as a London Boater.

We moored up late afternoon at the Olympic park and wandered over to Stratford to the John Lewis and shopping centre there where we managed to pass a couple of hours quite pleasantly and part with some cash to get Mike a new watch.

Canal or field?

The next morning was a quick hop down to Limehouse basin where we fell out – I can’t remember what about – which kind of spoiled our afternoon treat of a spa afternoon and champagne lunch, which we had won in a charity auction back in June.  We were speaking again by the time I picked my mum up at Kings Cross in the evening who had come to spend a week with us cruising.  Poor mum, always likes to be ahead of the game when travelling, leaving plenty of time for catching public transport.  She arrived at Edinburgh Waverley an hour and a half early and when her platform came up, 19, made her way over to wait the last 30 minutes or so there.  As 2.30pm came and still no sign of a train, she found someone to ask who said, “That’s your train there!!!!” And pointed to the other end of platform 19 which is platform 2.  There had been a change, but no announcement!!  Some guys grabbed her case for her and ran but the train was moving off as she reached it.  At the information desk she was sold a ticket for the next train, although when the agent said, “Oh, you’re right, there was no announcement made over the tannoy for this change of platform.” She only charged mum £85 allowing her to use the £41 of her booked ticket against the £126 fare.  Sound ‘fare’ to you???? No, us neither.  So Mike is liaising with our good friends at Virgin Trains and they’re looking into it.

All of that was forgotten as we got ready the next morning for the tidal Thames.  The first time we did it in 2014 the day was disappointingly overcast, and today was exactly the same, except it wasn’t quite as misty but more wet!  We weren’t sure if we’d get to go as there were winds gusting up to 26mph, however the locky didn’t bat an eyelid when we went in to check, just smiled and said, “See you in 45 minutes”.  We popped out of Limehouse into a slightly rough Thames, but having done the Wash, this seemed easier.  Until the traffic started.  Thursday morning was a busy day  on the Thames and we were rocked by the water taxis a lot!!!  Mum thought it was great and was “Wheeeeeeeeeee-ing” away, whilst Mike and I paled and gritted our teeth……..

James was watching us on a webcam - can you see us waving - we're tiny!!!

Had we come out half an hour earlier the bridge would have been raised to let a masted ship through

Mum braving the rain and enjoying the vista

She wasn't sure about the life jacket, but it wasn't optional ;)

Being piped through!!

Being chased by a big barge

Something smaller than us on the water!!

No chimneys :(  makes Battersea almost unrecognisable :(

Still very low water as we get closer to Brentford

Waiting for enough water to get in - how frustrating

We slowed up at Battersea as we wouldn’t be able to get into Brentford until 12.45 when the tide would be in enough to get us into the lock and over the cill so there was no rush and the rain had gone and the wind calmed making it a pleasant cruise.  We got there bang on 12.45 but ground to a halt halfway up the cutting to the lock.  The lock keeper phoned and said she had never seen it so low, we would have to wait about half an hour.  As the tide crept up, we crept nearer the lock and finally at 1.15pm we were able to go up.

Looking back to the Thames

We continued up the Brentford gauging lock and on up and through the Hanwell flight with blue skies and the sun above us – if only it had been an afternoon tide to come up the Thames in this…..

We moored at Bull’s Bridge for the night, taking water whilst mum and I had a wander around the Tesco.

This makes me smile everytime we pass it.  It doesn't look very prized now :(

We were up and away sharpish the next morning, blessed again with blue skies and sun.  We planned to do a few long days to get as close to Luton airport as possible for mum’s flight home the following week.  I have to admit, I really do like the Grand Union.  It’s so varied, industrial one minute and entirely rural the next, and such a history.  Our next night was spent just above Coppermill Lock, which was a bit shallow so we were a foot or so out from the side, but we weren’t needing to get off the boat so that was fine.  Saturday, we continued our northbound pilgrimage with another day of clear skies and sun, and for the first time in a while mooring up in the dark at Kings Langley and on Sunday much of the same took us to Berkhamsted.  After a visit to the Waitrose there on Monday, another long day took us across the summit at Tring and down the Marsworth flight, where we stopped at Startops and went for food at the Anglers Retreat.  Sadly, Monday night is their pizza night so we missed out on sampling their food which is apparently very good, but did enjoy the pizzas. The last time we had done this section of the GU we had met Karen, Neil and Buddy on Chalkhill Blue and did this section with them - happy memories!  So far on the Grand Union we had to lock alone, never seeming to meet anyone to lockshare with, so we took the opportunity of practicing a new technique that we will use in France in the big commercial locks.  We tied the front rope onto the bollard, then keeping the engine in gear, you push against the rope as you go up and it keeps you steadily in at the side, tho' you do need quite a bit of power in some of the fiestier locks!!  We were glad at Berkamsted to meet a nameless boat with a very nice crew that we shared up to Cowroast with, but parted ways as we stopped off for a pump out.

 

Autumn Reflections

Gorgeous 16th Century barns at Stocker Lock

The lock at Batchworth, the first one we ever did with Chalkhill Blue

Coming into Berkhamsted

Finally we got someone to share the locks with!!!

Cowroast

Bulbourne Junction - sadly out of time to pop down the Welford arm

The girls are in charge coming down the Marsworth flight

We were now a few days ahead of our schedule and realised we could squeeze in a ‘new to us’ navigation now. The last time we passed this way, the Aylesbury Arm was closed for winter stoppages, but this time it was open!  So the next morning, we would take a trip down to Aylesbury.  

Tootling from Tottenham to French France

Please excuse the time manipulation of the blog today, but if I try to do from the last entry to today it’ll take me days to write and you hours to read and I don’t want us to fall out.  We’ve been in France (should still be, but more on that later) and all things conspired against me to get a blog entry done; slow/non-existent internet, time (too busy enjoying myself doing other things) and Mike’s laptop wouldn’t read the photo card and I can’t do the blog on the iPad – besides which we’d not taken the photocard adaptors for it anyway….. So, that’s my excuse, but here we are, just a little catching up to do.   

We spent the night of 21 August at Tottenham in a long line of London Boaters, pulling out the next morning for a fairly longish stint to Waltham Abbey, our next stop on the River Lee and new territory for us.  It’s a rather uninteresting stretch of the river, a bit industrial really, kind of bland and once we were clear of the London Boaters, the boats were relatively few and far between – especially moving ones.  The locks kept us occupied with heavy gates competing with the ones on the Buckby Flight and we were flying solo so they were quite hard work.  At Enfield there seemed to be an abandoned widebeam on the lock mooring, so I went ahead to see what was going on, finding the owners on the lock taking tips from the two narrowboats coming down.  There was much chat and not much movement but I gleaned that it was only Mrs Widebeam’s second lock in her life and she was very nervous about sinking the boat.  Mr Widebeam had been living aboard for a few months now and seemed pleased to have Mrs to do the locks…..  I don’t know what their circumstances were, I’ve learned not to ask as the stories tend to be awfully long…..  Finally the two boats exited the bottom of the lock and Widebeam made her way in.  Slowly.  Then Mrs Widebeam did two turns of one paddle and waited.  We waited for quite some while and I asked if she’d like me to put a couple of turns on the other paddle.  No.  With the fear of God in her eyes she said she’d been told only to do two turns of a paddle otherwise the flow of water would throw the boat about.  She’s right, it is wise to do this, until you see the lie of the land (or water), what the boat’s doing etc and once you’re within a foot or so of being filled can usually fully open both paddles with no problem.  But no, she was terrified she’d bounce the boat around and sink it – never mind it was a widebeam with only an inch or two either side to bounce off.  Eventually they moved off and we took our turn coming up, helped by a lovely lad who was holidaying with his dad moored nearby.  He chatted away, very well socialised and just a dead nice kid.  We seemed to have been at this lock for hours so were glad to get underway.

Accompanied by pylons much of the way

Cute viking boat sculpture at Waltham Abbey

After getting stuck behind Widebeam at the next lock while we waited for their two turns to fill the lock we were relieved to see them pull in for lunch and we passed them as we came up.  We made good way to Waltham Town lock where there were kids jumping in the lock.  Not really a smart move, especially when a boat coming down was manoeuvring into the lock.  Our turn came and they kept out of the way while we came up, again, quite nice kids, chatty, one of them did a great Scottish accent taking the piss out of me!  There were a couple of spaces in a long line of boats so we pulled in, moored up and went to have a look at the waterpark, which was used in the Olympics.  We’d met a couple coming down who said it was great, worth stopping off to see.  It looked a lot smaller and less exciting than it had in 2012 on the telly……  Until they ran the water – wow!!

Empty and sad

Looking better with some water

Whhhooooooooosh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BBC were there to do a news feature on the end of the Rio Olympics but weren't allowed to stand on the water side of the white fence unless they put life-vests on!!!

In the evening I did a short run, 30 mins, aware that we were going to be toing and froing about for a few weeks quite soon and my running would grind to a halt during that time and we had dinner and watched tv in the evening.  Next morning I was keen to get off as I’d seen Widebeam come up later the previous afternoon and we hoped to get to Hertford today, so didn’t want to get stuck behind her.  They were just having their morning cuppa as we cruised past just after 9am (yes, that’s an early start for us).  As we got more rural, things got prettier and it is a nice river, but when you’ve been spoiled by the Thames any other is only going to take second place at best.

Pretty Riverfront at Ware

 

It was a hot day as we made our way and as we headed through Broxbourne the river became the M25 of the waterways with tons of little rowing boats, day boats all out enjoying the sun.  It was a bit of an obstacle course and we were glad to get through it.  On through Stanstead Abbots and at Stanstead Lock there seemed to be a bit of a queue, and another widebeam sitting on the lock mooring.  I managed to get Mike off by coming alongside a moored boat further back and he climbed across it onto the tow path and went up to the lock to see what was going on.  Someone was going up, a narrowboat, and had only just started filling, so could have waited for us to go with them – boo!  There seemed to be a lot of chat and not much action and I was hovering as there was no room on the lock mooring, until the widebeam owner offered to take a rope from our front and tie it to their back.  This was fine, except they had a wooden platform protruding from their rear holding their bikes.  I was terrified I’d ram the thing and snap it into kindling……  After a lot of apparent palaver, the other boat was up, someone came down and the widebeam entered the lock.  I could see Mike trying to keep calm as there seemed to be more faffing than moving, lots of people around but nobody doing anything but eventually it was our turn and we went up – again, we probably ended up spending over an hour at one lock.  Through Ware, and on to Hertford where on approaching the lock we could see a ton of kids all jumping off the gates into the river below – nightmare.  However, it wasn’t.  As Mike get off at the landing, the oldest lad came to meet him, chatted up to the lock and the next thing had our windlass in his hand and was shouting at the others and getting the lock ready.

As I drove in, a wee lad at the side shouted, “Hello!!!” with a big cheery grin (and there was me thinking we’d be getting stoned to death or wee’d on as we went passed…..) and we exchanged pleasantries about the weather, the water etc.  Mike sat chatting to them as the older lad filled the chamber and Quaintrelle rose up.  When the lock was level, the lad shouts to his pal, “Oi, get the other gate, can’t you see he’s got a bad leg!!”, as Mike was wearing his knee brace – hahahahahahaha!!!!!!!  Brilliant!

Our helpers at Hertford Lock

Nice mooring outside the Old Barge

The moorings at Hertford were rammed so we continued up towards the end of the navigation, where there was one space left in front of The Old Barge pub.  We were hot and knackered as it had been a much longer day than we had anticipated, but were rewarded with Hertford being rather a nice town which had a Waitrose that we made use of.  An early tea and then a quick drink in the pub, then bed.  We wanted to start off quite sharp in the morning again as we wanted to get to our mooring at Roydon Marina on the Stort by lunchtime and although it should only take 3-4 hours, we seemed to have been plagued with hold ups and slow locks so didn’t want to leave anything to chance.  We left at 9am and already the day was roasting.  

Back the way we came!

Lonely locks

New territory as we turn on to the River Stort

We found ourselves going solo again the whole way; it must have been too hot as we didn’t see another single soul on the move until we reached the first lock on the Stort.  Again, there was a boat in the lock, lots of people around but no one seemed to be moving or doing anything, so I climbed across another moored boat (as someone was on the lock mooring) and went to check out what was going on.  There was a dayboat sitting in the lock chamber and it was quickly clear to me why they were sitting in there for so long.  “What way are you going?” I asked.  Blank looks all round……”Are you going this way (pointing up the Stort), or this way? (Pointing down).  “That way” (pointing up).  “Well you need to shut these paddles!!!!” I said, pointing to the bottom gates.  The numpties had all four paddles open, the two on the top gates and the two on the bottom so the water was basically running through the lock and the boat going nowhere……..  They were so busy taking pics and were none the wiser but the two other boaters from other boats looked a bit sheepish and apologised saying they’d thought something wasn’t right but hadn’t noticed what they’d done.  I tried to explain to the day boaters how to do a lock, but they said a fisherman had told them to open all the paddles so the fish could get through!!!!  Once they were up, the next cruiser came down, then it was our turn.  As we rose, a few wee wooden rowing boats arrived and then a narrowboat that just pushed right passed them to the lock entrance, meaning we couldn’t get out!  One of the rowers was doing the lock and silently simmering, “He almost rammed us at the last lock coming out of the marina!”, and proceeded to shout at the driver to reverse so we could come out.  As we passed I said, “The rowing boats are next, you’ll have to wait,” and he just shrugged – nice type.  Anyway, this was the only adventure that day so we made great progress and were at the marina just after 12!!!  We had booked the marina for the next month as we had to go up to York, Fife and then were heading to France for three weeks for a holiday.  We did what organising was left to do for our trips and as the afternoon wore on faded away in the heat.  I spent an hour lying on the floor of the boat as it was coolest place I could find – there was not a breath of air.

Roydon Marina - space on the left under the bridge for Quaintrelle

The next day was still warm as we set off to the station for York for a couple of days, and then on Saturday we headed up to Fife.  We picked up Citty Cate and went on up to Pittenweem on Sunday for the night where my mum and brother John and nephew Alex were spending a week on holiday.  We had a lovely night with them, although it was a bit trying getting there as Citty  Cate seemed to have a dodgy battery, but then it seemed to fix itself after we’d ordered a new one online and it was all a bit stressful…….  On Monday she started off fine and we started off for York, stopping off en route for a very short visit with my very short Aunty Nancy.

Three Scotts and a Queenan at pretty Pittenweem harbour

Hmmmmmm - little did we know this wouldn't be the last time people were standing behind the car in such a manner :(

Me and my FAVOURITE Aunty Nancy xxxxx

An overnight at Norfolk Towers, from where we caught a great view of a balloon, and then it was on down to the marina for a night to get packed for France and load up Cate.

Citty's on the Road Again.....

On Wednesday 31^st, with the car running fine, we headed off down to the Chunnel, quite excited as neither of us had ever done it before.  The sun was shining and everything went to plan (despite leaving a bit later than planned and having to drive a bit faster than planned) and by 1.30pm we were in French France and driving on the right side of the road!!

Down to the train

On the train

Parked up between a mini and a Range Rover!

FRANCE!!!

We drove for a few hours down the motorway to our first stop near Rouen, where we stayed in a gorgeous Chateau and had a lovely meal at the local Auberge.  In the morning we had a quick tour of the 17^th Century cider press, apparently one of the only ones of its age and type left as far as the owners are aware and then headed for our next stop.

The chapel of the Chateau

Chateau

 

17th Century Cider press