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

Conquering the Caen Hill Flight

first, some hard facts about the famous Caen Hill flight of locks:

1. it’s one of the longest continuous flight of locks in the country - a total of 29 locks with a rise of 72metres in 3.2 km (237 feet over 2 miles) - on the Kennet and Avon canal - if you want to head west past Devizes towards Bath or Bristol, you can’t avoid it

2. The flight of locks opened in 1810; by 1818, seventy 60-ton barges were working on the canal, mostly carrying coal and stone

3. A back pump at Foxhangers is capable of returning 7 million gallons of water per day to the top of the flight. That’s one lockful every 11 minutes.

4. people actually hire narrow boats to ‘climb’ the locks for fun

5. the locks have opening hours; in summer, they open at 8h00 and close at 17h00 which allows the last boats through to clear the top lock by 20h00 - you’re told to allow 5 to 6 hours to go through all the locks

6. the pounds by the side of the locks (they store excess water from opening and closing the gates) are teeming with wildlife - herons, swans, ducks

Now, some fun facts:

1. last year, going down the locks on our own (it was the middle of winter and noone was travelling) I walked almost 15km doing the 3.2km of locks. This year, on a busy summer day with another boat next to us through the flight, it was the much more sensible distance of 6km

2. there are volunteers there to help where needed…one was a man on a mission opening and closing paddles, another enjoyed patrolling on the quad bike in between greasing the mechanisms

3. the man on the boat in front of us was on the vodka and coke at 10am

4. swans will happily hitch a ride with you through the locks

5. there are lots of visitors to Caen Hill, mostly enjoying the spectacle of slightly out of shape people wrestling with stiff lock gates and saying, ‘‘call that a holiday?’ (my cringing reply towards the end of the day - ‘it’s not a holiday, it’s my life’ oh, the embarrassment)

6. there is always one more lock than you think (around the bend, where you’re slowly heading)

7. it really is great fun

there can only be one recommendation for refreshments…the Black Horse Inn, canal-side at the top (almost) of the flight into Devizes. We arrived 20 minutes before afternoon closing time, were warmly welcomed and enjoyed recovery drinks in lovely surroundings. Thoroughly recommended. At the moment they close mid-afternoon to deep clean before re-opening for the evening session, serving good food and a decent range of beers and if you’re on your narrowboat, you can tie up right next to the pub and settle in for the night.

my 'itinerant photographer' website is launched!

As an itinerant photographer (or simply someone working on yachts overseas with a camera ever to hand), there never seemed to be the time to stay still, take stock and, for example, build a website to showcase my work. Around this time last year, when my husband and I realised what everyone does sooner or later, namely that life’s too short to live to someone else’s demands, we bought a narrowboat, moved back to England and started travelling on our own terms.

When the towpaths muddied over and ice started creeping into the puddles, we came back to our house in south Somerset to tidy it up, pack it up, and sell up. Before part 3 of this master plan was complete, the world and England’s canals had closed down.

I’m by nature an irrepressibly optimistic person and can’t help but find good in amongst the bad. So one result of my enforced lockdown and isolation is this website, the building of which has fried my brain in the most pleasurable way. My solitary walks along the ancient footpaths and rarely-visited woodlands on my doorstep let me experience my first British spring in decades - who knew it could be so green and lush and inspiring? Many of the intimate flora photographs on the website were taken on these walks.

You’ll get to know more about me, my photography, where I’ve been and where I’m going, in other blog posts - in the meantime, thanks for your time, I hope you like the photos and the stories, and I hope you’re staying safe

Phil xx

ps

I’m female and Philippa, but most people except my husband call me Phil