Brewood to The Anchor Inn at Bridge 42 and back again.

The Anchor Inn was closed till Friday so we ate and drank and were merry on board!

Oh bother!  Half an hour ago I had a connection and now it’s gone.  Also, although I am connected to something, I have no signal.  How does that work?

We’ve had some fabulous weather.  Sunshine all day yesterday and a couple of hours of mist this morning with the sun glowing away up there and eventually breaking through.  Infuriatingly we were heading towards the sun so the best views, misty but coloured with early morning light, were only to be had by leaning round Barney at the back when he wasn’t needing to use the whole space for steering.

We’re on a Telford Canal – the Shropshire Union, and Telford was a man who liked to head straight for his chosen destination.  So, where another man might have followed the curves of the land and built locks where the contours refused to accommodate the cut, Mr Telford built embankments and dug cuttings.  Today we went through the only lock in 26 miles of canal which however strides above the Shropshire Plain on embankments a mile long and then plunges into cuttings which are deep enough to cut out most of the light until midday.  To some extent, it’s boring.  No locks, the slightest of curves, long stretches of straight-sided depths.  On the other hand you often see bridges within bridges and long, elegant lines, fringed with trees.  The light promises to bloom round the next corner and the promise is often better than you could hope.

Right.  It’s time to go to the Bridge Inn for dinner.  I have low hopes of the quality but it will definitely be food which is the main object.  Not much excercise as it’s just a few yards up the towpath.  And then, wonderfully, after a perfectly resonable meal, the bell ringers were practicing at Brewood Church.  A really nice end to the day.

Next day dawns cold and grey and without central heating.  Eventually it   transpires that this is because  the gas has run out.  Not a huge problem as we have a spare but it’ll be a while before everything warms up.  I’ve lit the stove which is an all or nothing affair.  Either it goes out (twice this morning) or it glows like the gates of hell and renders it necessary to strip down to underwear if you want to sit in here for more than five minutes.  Outside it’s like Hell froze over, damp and grey and icy winds.  But also high enough up to get a connection.  Woohoo!  Boating in February is GREAT!

And here is a copy of a spam I’ve just discovered.  Almost relevant.

I think Boiler is one of the most important object for our home to make it hot. I do agree that it helps us a lot as like our other stuffs but when it makes trouble then whole life is about having darkness. I face many time such problem because of my boiler.  From JJ at Boiler installation, obviously : )   I particularly love “then whole life is about having darkness”.  Such depth of feeling is somehow not reassuring about JJ’s competency at fixing boilers.

Oops, the Captain wants a hot drink with rum in it.  I don’t blame him.  Got to go.