What went on in July...

July was over before it seemed to have begun (as has been most of the year to date) - possibly lost in slow motion along the Kennet and Avon canal…the summer travels have begun and it feels wonderful to be on the move again. The plan is to have 3 months properly travelling; a Gold Licence this year means unlimited time on the Thames and any other river that’s not under the Canal and River Trust’s jurisdiction. Messing about on the river, all the way up to Lechlade via Oxford, is a lovely thing to do.

There were a few things happening before I started clocking up those slow miles along the canal…not least, the emergence of this year’s damsel- and dragonflies. They seemed to emerge from one day to the next, starting with the fabulous Scarce Chaser dragonflies and followed soon after by the pretty tiny emerald damselflies…oh, I really must mention the Ranatra Linearis that was pulling itself along the side of the boat, just underwater. I’d never heard of it so kind of thought we we’d discovered something completely new living in the canal! It’s known as a ‘water stick insect’, has the attributes of a praying mantis, breathes through its tail and is an underwater predator - how about that?!

Then, I went on holiday though there were plenty of times when the memorable line from Withnail and I came to mind: “we’ve gone on holiday by mistake”.

Highlights- catching up with great friends in the gorgeous harbour town of Portsoy in their fabulous Port House cafe; seeing puffins, razorbills, seals and thousands of other birds at the rspb Dunnet Head nature reserve; eating fish and chips in Whitby; coast walking from Whitby to Robin Hood’s Bay.

Lowlights - there are no highland cows in the Highlands (trust me on this); driving 1400 miles in 4 days; the rain, the relentless rain that made camping impossible in Scotland; eating fish and chips in Whitby (enough is enough!); seagulls at 4am (there’s no double glazing in a tent).

A big, even massive, boost this month photography-wise came in the form of a front cover and 2 page spread in Amateur Photographer magazine, where I was asked to talk about my favourite lens, the Sigma 105mm, and to submit some photos taken with it. The delight I got from this was made even greater when my SheClicks friends amassed a load of copies and sent me a photo - where would we be without the support of like-minded people?

And finally…July began with immeasurable sadness as we said goodbye to Dad. The fact he’d been suffering for too long and his passing happened with relative speed and comfort didn’t seem to make things any easier when it happened. He would be so proud of me and just the few things I’ve begun to achieve with my photography, so this is for him. RIP Dad xx

Narrowboats and Heatwaves

Now that the heavens have opened and the thermometer is back in the twenties, it seems apt to write about life on a 45 foot metal boat during times of extreme heat - how bad does it really get?

The short answer is, not too bad, all things considered.

Staying cool on the river Kennet

Narrowboats come with insulation as standard, which acts as a great shield for hot weather as well as cold. The small windows on my boat keep out not only prying eyes but also the sun’s glare. Open the front doors and the back and you have a pretty effective wind tunnel, or at the very least a hint of breeze - this is best done when you don’t have a boat parked half a metre in front, unless you’re happy to share your sleeping arrangements with strangers (not my thing).

Cooling Water - early morning on the river Kennet

And, very importantly, water is a cooling element, so living right on top of it keeps the temperature down compared to living in most houses.

We parked up in full sunlight to take advantage of oodles of solar power, but chose a spot that had trees at either end where we could take shelter when needed. We cooked outdoors, almost lost mooring lines to teething bullocks, hunted damselflies and went on long walks that finished with a well-earned drink…and I even got to watch the Wimbledon finals in the fresh air…what’s not to like?

Life during Lockdown

I spent the first lockdown in a spacious 3 bedroom house in Somserset with my husband; we missed our 45 foot narrowboat and never quite got used to the confinement that lockdown brings but spent the time well, fully re-vamping our house so that when freedom beckoned it sold in 3 days. I was thankful I’d not been ‘trapped’ on our narrowboat; what with its limited space and the closure of the canals I could only imagine claustrophobia and frustration.

So, here we are at the better side of lockdown #2…how’s it been?

The fact that I’ve not written a blog post for 7 weeks is evidence enough that things have been pretty fine. Sure, reunion plans in Cheshire have sadly been put on hold and we’ve not explored the ‘Shroppie’ as much as we’d expected…but what I have done is spend more time in one place than planned and it’s been great.

Things take longer on a narrowboat…we needed to copy some documents and send them off and this took 3 days. One day to walk 3 miles to the nearest PO that doesn’t exist any more, one day to walk (through a field full of frisky bullocks, past some of the largest strawberry farms in the country) to the next nearest PO that doesn’t have a copier for the public to use and the 3rd day to take a bus to Stafford to complete the task. One day we walked 10 miles for the unrivalled luxury of an M&S food store - the fact it was in a garage forecourt only slightly dented the joy.

Having an isolated spot in the middle of nowhere but close enough to essentials has been key. The nearest shop is 30 minutes’ walk away, the nearest waste and sanitary station about 3 miles away. Filling the water tank and emptying the toilet become days out, planned in advance; we check the weather and aim to travel when it’s not raining, blue skies and calm days are the best. Our 6 mile round trip takes 4 to 5 hours, travelling in the wrong direction for an hour or so in order to turn around to go where we need to…you really can’t be in a rush.

Nature- and photography-wise, I’d high hopes for a mandarin duck who shared the first few lockdown days with me. There are always kingfishers darting and flashing in front of me whenever I’m running along the towpath - they don’t show themselves when I’m walking slowly, camera in hand. I’ve learned to identify fieldfares (though silently I always say ‘finefare’ which is a budget supermarket from my Cheshire days) and watched a bird of prey swoop in on an unattended pair of chicks. I’ve wandered with the Sigma 105mm macro lens that saw me so well through the first lockdown and enjoyed the way it focuses attention onto the small details. I even photographed a full moon and this morning watched a grey heron catching fish.

So I can safely say, I’ve had a ‘good’ lockdown and have a lot to be thankful for; I can’t wait to see my friends and family properly, to sit in a pub and have a pint and a chat with someone (anyone) and I’m going to stay on my little boat out in the sticks for as long as I need to stay stafe.

I hope that you’re all well and still smiling and getting out for some fresh air; look at trees and birds and berries and enjoy what’s around you…

Love, Phil xx

All the way on the Oxford canal

This was supposed to be a blog about counting locks rather than miles on the Oxford canal - but before I got to write it, we’d passed through all the locks and emerged into some sort of wondrous country where there are no locks…imagine travelling more than 8 miles a day with minimum effort!

Coming onto the Oxford canal after the river was quite a shock; after barely 3 weeks on the Thames I was fully accustomed to pressing buttons or turning easy wheels to fill or empty locks. Opening the gates was never a full body battle for me.

The very first Oxford lock is quaint; wide enough for just one narrowboat (widebeams aren’t welcome here) and charmingly rickety, I was reminded how each lock has its individual character – some are loveable, and some are decidedly unfriendly, consuming all my efforts, body weight and forgotten muscles before they move

The first stretch out of Oxford is a mix of locks and lifting bridges, nicely spaced and a gentle start to the canal…apart from one particular lifting bridge that beat me last year and beat me again this one, thank you helpful dog walker. The canal winds its way through open countryside, through tree-lines glades and narrow reed-filled stretches. We passed liveaboard communities, desirable lock-side cottages (and one that’s burnt out and derelict) and villages where weeping willows drape over the water.

But the locks…one day we travelled from 9 til 5, we did 13 locks and covered 9 miles. The next day, 9h30 - 15h45, 9 locks, 8 miles…it’s best not to be in too much of a rush and never stop thinking of the pub that is that day’s destination.

After all the locks and the disappointment of last year’s favourtie pub having moved its operation into a drafty marquee with minimal heating and dubious adherence to current guidelines, we moved quickly on to the northern part of the Oxford canal - exciting new territory to discover at last even if neither of us had realised we were entering suburbia and finishing just around the corner from an immense national grid power station; it felt as far removed from the ‘other’ Oxford canal as could be.

But this is where we discovered the joy of lockless cruising; 15 miles a day no sweat, with late starts and early stops. The only thing missing was the sunshine. We travelled the full length of the Oxford canal in 9 days; we could have taken more time but barbecue season seemed to have ended abruptlly and the rural idylls were behind us…onwards to the Coventry canal…

The best pub? The Victoria in Jericho, Oxford. Everything a local pub should be; great beer, brilliant staff and atmosphere, allegedly excellent pies and lots of space for a relaxing few hours. Plus decor that creates talking points if you’ve nothing really new to say to your partner!

Next post will be wildlife themed…the kingfishers have shown me a bit of love recently.

Until then, stay safe and stay warm…it’s getting cold out there.

Phil xx