Leicester Ring Day 4 - Thursday

Chap: Day 4 started alarmingly at 6.20am-ish after around 3 hours sleep. Marvellous! Fella had already been up for around 20 minutes and his general clanging around roused me from a very deep sleep with a mouth like a badgers @rse.

We both spent the first half of the morning in a slight haze wondering why the hell we stayed up so long and generally bringing the World into focus. A large helping of porridge and caffeine further cementing my theory that I did indeed feel like sh1t. By this time we were on the move and leaving Polesworth behind us.

As we drifted through suburban Tamworth during rush hour (avoiding all manner of litter in the cut) it gradually dawned on me how life on the canals is, in some ways, reminsicant of a Harry Potter existence. Let me explain. Harry spends most of his life in the magic world only occasionally dipping into the muggle world. Even though he is comfortable in both worlds the magic world is far more interesting and, on the most part, pure muggles are a lower form of life. After a few hours on the back of a boat - canal world is much like magic world and, while you're perfectly chilled and taking life at a much slower pace, the 'muggles' are racing around in their world trying to make a difference. Tamworth during rush hour was much like this. While we're working our way through Glascote locks, life in Tamworth was going on around us. People driving to work, people walking dogs and Mums frantically walking kids to school whilst stressing in a 'hurry up' and 'don't do that' manner. Same Tamworth, different worlds.

Whilst I took a much needed shower and a brave choice to remove some of my facial hair (didn't yet have the fine motor skills required to shave around my chin/mouth area) Fella took it up the Fazely junction (How very dare you, are you suggesting I... you get the picture, no? - Fella) and then North onto the quaint little village of Hopwas.

Despite hoping to the contrary, it was a little too early to jump off for the first pint of the day.

We did however make Huddlesford by opening time, observed and quickly ignored various signs set up by the flourescent workmen busy constructing (error) pretending to be busy constructing a rail bridge, moored up and sat outside The Plough with a cold pint each (why do they insist on serving it cold up here?) and accompanied by the cleaner, a young girl who we quickly discovered was Polish and her 3 year old son.

Back on the boat and I created various burning fat type smells in the kitchen area - which we quaffed down shortly before turning right through Fradley junction and onto the Trent and Mersey. Disapointingly having now lost the time we had so far made up on previous days.

Hopefully the T&M will be running in our favour and we can claw back some time.
Happy to announce that - at 16.11 - the sun is out, the weather is warm and the shorts are on. All is well in the magic world.

Fella: Yeah... this morning... what was that all about? - Have very little recollection of first thing this morning, and when I came to later, I was surprised to see I had taken rather a good picture of Polesworth, made all the better by being turned upside down and judiciously cropped. (Sidebar - apologies for the small size of the pictures, my only connection with the outside world is via mobile phone, and it's only marginally quicker than tar dripping down from a barrel)

Unlike chap I managed to dodge the soap most of the morning. We discovered on our slow meandering course toward lunch that Network Rail are busy adding two more tracks to the West Coast Mainline, and have rogered the canal in the process.

There was a nice pictogrammatic presentation of the work they were doing month by month since last October. The only problem was they were supposed to be finished by March, and it's nearly May.

In consequence we were not able to take a stroll up the Wyrley and Essington (How very da... yadda yadda) a now derelict canal which used to fetch down to the north of Birmingham. If you've driven on the M6 toll you may have noticed an aquaduct which is not connected to anything at either end. It runs over the top of the motorway which has a plaque saying "Litchfield Canal" which is the currently favoured name for the W & E (or Curly Wurly as it's most commonly known).

I came briefly into contact with the great british site foreman in full flow. He seemed to take offence at my wanting to get along the blocked tow path through the middle of his hard-hat area in order to reach the pub.

I also got slightly odd looks from the barmaid when I asked her to remove her twizzler before pulling my second pint. I had to explain I wanted my beer flat, not artificially aerated by some device on the end of the pump. She duly obliged and my second pint was a joy compared to the first.

Chap has already filled you in up to about 4pm. I can add that we've just moored for the night at our scheduled stopping point at 6pm in Barton Turns. We've recently accidently cruised past a boat at something faster than tickover which seemed to make him unfeasibly angry, for which we unreservedly apologise.

Feeling extremely tired, and in need of beer and food.

The Barton Turns Public House is described in Nicholsons as, "Opposite Barton Lock, this is a basic but friendly pub serving real ale and bar meals" - We agree. The menu had a wide choice of precisely five meals available. I went for today's special, "Lasagne" - Well we are in the midlands so perhaps Lasagne is special round here. Chap, being a veggie had a wider choice of one meal which was Cheese, Onion and Mashed potato pie (oh, the imagination).... with chips, so basically potato then.

The beer was slightly better, the young lady being all too eager to remove her twizzler for our southern benefit. A local gentleman behind me began to comment about "soft southern jessies", but tailed off rapidly when it dawned on him that he might be about to walk into a train-wreck, luckily Chap and I are mild mannered docile types. I placed him back at ease by quipping about having to wait ten minute to allow the beer to come up to proper temperature. He seemed relieved, which was nice.

Having got back to the boat, we've tucked into the cheese and crackers. All the cheese, apart from the Bishop has been in the fridge, the Bishop has been out in the open, and for several hours yesterday and today in direct sunlight on top of the boat. I decided it was time to give it a decent send off and consumed this fabulously gooey mess in short order. I am in mortal fear that tomorrow my body may just go on strike in protest at the repeated food and alchohol abuse it's received these last few days.

Quick schedule update: We've covered 90 miles and worked 47 locks, and this evening we are 1 lock and 1 mile behind schedule, which is about half an hour.

Chap: OK something is wrong here. I came away from my gruelling 7 day a week schedule to relax and unwind and even though i'm totally chilled and it's just what the doctor ordered, here I am at 9.20pm absolutely physically done in. Must have something to do with the 3 hours sleep we had last night then. That said, i'm looking forward to some wide, tidal river action tomorrow and the promise of mid 20s temperatures across the weekend (even though my face is continually feeling like someone has peeled back my skin and rubbed raw onion on it).

OK, now i'm just randomly typing stuff instead of sticking to the subject matter. Just one more thing though, cows. You know, the moo ones. Do they actually get anything out of being attached to those pumps that suck out all their milk or have they come to accept it as just something that happens, like having a tetanus injection. And is that where Anne Summers got some of her ideas from? And what thoughts go through their heads when people passing them on canals think it's funny to moo loudly in their general direction? (yeah, like 'moo' very good, not heard that one before. I can say other things you know).

Now I really do have to go to bed.