16th July 2010
Hockley Port to Bournville. BCN and Birmingham & Worcester canals.
Finish tidying up and get the odd bottle of beer aboard ready for the weekend. Then I wait for mine chums
to arrive, who all manage to get lost, one with the help of a policemen who appears to have been from
somewhere in Dorset. Certainly wasn't from Birmingham if his knowledge of local landmarks is anything to
go by. (From a related account, he attempted to follow my directions and then said, "but Pitsford Street
is at the other end of town". Which to the better informed would perhaps suggest that he had read the
directions wrongly? I'm surprised he knew how to point the speed gun the right way...).
Anyway, once we are all assembled, we get some more beer aboard and cast off. S_ and C_ take to the well
deck, giving R_ and the good Kaptain much hilarity when we announce our intention to enter the mainline
directly in S_'s ear. What fun! Having calmed down a bit, we then proceed through Brindley Place and Gas
Street, turning in front of the Mailbox in a positive calm. As night is now falling, I abandon my former
plan of mooring at King's Norton, and decide to tie up at Edgbaston. Alas, we are not the first crew to
think of this, and a long line of boats extends down the towpath from the winding hole in the gathering
gloom. Still, everyone
seems to be having fun, so we press on, at least to Bournville. Have a bit of a turn when we
arrive at some major works (a new aqueduct?) which we negotiate with trepidation in the dark. Well, I
was scared anyway. I take advantage of the next bridge hole to slip her in neutral and dive below for
a pee, which was the beer and not the fear, honest. Fortunately, the moorings at Bournville are completely
vacant by the time we arrive at around 11pm. Which is just as well as I doubt I'd have been able to squeeze
in between boats in this blackness. Must have been where Mr Cadbury got the idea for the eponymous chocolate.
After we're tied up we have an abortive attempt to find an open boozer in the notoriously dry Quaker area.
Despite a couple of establishments' advertised claims to be open till the wee smalls, the heavies bolting
the doors would seem to suggest otherwise. Never mind, there's still plenty of booze aboard, so we head
back to the boat. At least there are no neighbours to disturb.
|
|
|
|
This |
Total |
| Miles |
5.8 |
269.93 |
| Locks |
- |
200 |
| |
| Height Gain | |
- |
| Height Loss | |
- |
| Height | |
453'0" |
|
|
(Forgot to take the camera, so I drew this from memory)
|
Back to top
