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

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