Leicester Ring Day 6 - Saturday

Up again early this morning with a 6am start - Not so great given the quantity of beer ingested last night. This morning was once again very cold, but with the forecast promising a sunny day, we pressed on.

The first lock of the day was Kegworth Deep Lock. It is clear that at some point in this navigations past, there were two broad locks side by side on this lower stretch. I noticed the filled in second lock at the entrance to the Soar last night, and assumed it was a one off. Turns out not to be the case.


Whomever decided to renovate this stretch of canalised river took the interesting decision to leave the lock gates in situ, removing only the balance beams, before filling in the second lock. Presumably this leaves open the possibility of future redoubling of this section if traffic levels continue to rise. Somehow, given the number of boats on this stretch it seems unlikely.

The Sun tried to make its first appearance behind us over the lock. More opportunities for picturesque photos.

It is apparent from all the warning signs that the River Soar is liable to flooding. In fact, we have seen several lines painted on the side of buildings indicating that in 2000 the flood-levels raised the water levels 12 to 15 feet above norm. For this reason, there are substantial signs at every lock indicating whether it is safe to proceed or not. I was pondering what exactly a boat crew could do in the event that they were halfway up the river and unable to proceed. The answer came in the form of an entry in Nicholsons which indicated that there are things called "Emergency Mooring Dolphins" before Loughborough.

We speculated at some length whether this might be a team of highly trained mammals, with emergency flashing lights strapped to the their backs, able to communicate with a series of urgent clicks that we should follow them. In the event it was much less interesting. The "dolphins" appear to be a long wooden fence sticking about 10 feet out of the water. It would certainly be possible to be moored to them with the entire surrounding landscape turned into a giant swimming pool, and yet... being towed to safety by a dolphin seems so much more appealing.

This disappointment behind us we fetched onwards into Loughborough. The first signs of the coming weather beginning to show (and the first signs of litter from urbanisation)
Somewhere along the way we managed showers and as the sun really started to make it's presence felt, we moored for breakfast just below Barrow on Soar.

Now that we are navigating broad-locks the possibilities for random meetings increases. It would be extremely rude not to engage in conversation with the crew of the other boat sharing the lock water.

This morning we met with a family on a converted working boat (they are obvious from the high bow line and plate rivet construction - the boats, obviously, not the family). They've owned their boat since 1971.


During their time onboard, this couple spawned two offspring. Their teenage children very confident around the locks. They're currently renovating the boat and the father (who looked a lot like Robert Plant) informed us that he had seen an identical boat for sale last week at Braunston for £40K. He also commented on how cheaply the boat we were on would have been thrown together - we agree. It would be a fool who purchased an ex-hire boat.

We followed the family for a couple of locks before they stopped for the day just above Cossington Lock. My guess is they would be choosing not to travel in the high afternoon sun, taking instead the opportunity to carry on with their repainting efforts.

With the day firmly settled into "hot" mode we encountered a queue of boats wanting to come in the other direction, all being held up by a family who had hired a dayboat (horrible things) but clearly had absolutely no idea of what to do with a lock.

Amusement soon turned to concern when it became apparent that they were in danger of drowning themselves without some sort of instruction (why don't boatyards take this seriously?). Luckily the senior member of their crew was happy to seek input, and so I was able to provide some guidance.

After explaining to one particularly bright young man that just because he was next in the queue behind the boat now in the lock, that did not mean that he got to go before us, coming in the opposite direction. It took him several moments to grasp the concept that as he was going to have to fill the lock anyway, would it not make sense to have a boat floating on that water as it was filling? - The penny finally dropped and he went away happy that he wasn't being turned over. A little later as we were leaving the lock, I noticed him trying to move the paddlegear, complaining that it was stuck. As I passed I pointed to the locking device that he would need to remove with a smile and "good luck, have fun".

At some point in the afternoon I made a stupid decision to lie down on the top of the boat. I was only there for about 20 minutes, but this was enough to considerably increase the level of skin redness. During the afternoon, I applied sunscreen several times but to no avail.

Leaving the Navices (Navii?) behind we pushed on toward Leicester. More detritis starting to appear in the canal, a sure sign of urbanisation. It's odd that these cities benefitted immensely from the canal, but because all the heavy industry which lined it's banks were built with their backs facing the cut, there seems to be a shared mental "turning of backs" on the canal among the inhabitants.


It takes great change like that experienced in Gas Street Basin in Birmingham, or Canal Street in Manchester for communities to recognise what a great asset they have. Leicester is not a city in love with it's canal for the most part. With the notable exception of the showpiece "Stright Mile" which the Victorians had the good grace to build, most of the canal winds it's way through decaying infrastructure, all in need of clearing away.

Travelling through the centre of Leicester I became aware of a bunch of lads on the bridge up ahead. I didn't see exactly what they threw in but it glinted in the sun and made a substantial "sp-losh" as it hit the water. As I approached, left hand holding Windlass (a large heavy metal object, not at all for any premeditated counteraction in the event of attack, m'lud) I looked into the cut and what looked like a motorbike sat just far enough left that Chap would be able to pass the boat. I thought it best to say nothing to the ferals and instead continued onwards. Under the bridge and to the lock. Working the lock I was accompanied by a drunken lady at the roadside pub bellowing "Rosey and Jim, Rosey and Jim" at the top of her voice. What a pleasant and friendly place Leicester can be.

We pressed on to LimeKiln Lock in the city centre. In 1967 the Inland Waterways Association (a voluntary group largely responsible for the hard work which kept so many canals open between 1948 and 1980 despite government attempts to fill them in) held a gathering at Limekiln Lock to raise the profile of this waterway before it disappeared for ever. The city repays their legacy with filth.


Now with a great deal of care we weaved our way through the debris in the canal until we reached with some relief the secure moorings in Leicester. We were contemplating making this our stopping point for the night, but a quick review of the remaining miles and locks made it clear we'd have to push on. Shame really, a curry in Leicester would have been nice, especially given what we ended up eating later.

We zoomed down the pleasantly wide and well kept straight mile past Leicester City football ground through three more locks and finally moored up for the evening just beyond Kings Lock, a small oasis of countryside after the depression of the city.

We set off in search of beer and food, bouyed by the success of the previous evening, only to discover that pickings were slim. None of the pubs served food, and so we resorted to Pizza Hut Express, the delivery only version of Pizza Hut.

I can remember a time when Pizza Hut used to have a thin n crispy crust, but they seem to have embraced the stodgy Domino's receipe.

We decamped to a local pub and drank a couple of pints of Pedigree before ordering (too much) food for collection. Chap insisted on yomping back to the boat at a breakneck pace. We ate about half of the stodge and as the inevitable Glycaemic hit arrived, staggered to our beds.