Hinckley

The ancient name of this town apparently means something like "Hinck's meadow". I've long assumed that it was the origin of my own surname, of which there are (were) many examples in the local Leicestershire telephone directory, as opposed to about three in the whole of Greater London. Some years ago I came through here on a train and, having seen the part of the town shown to passengers in transit, never felt any inclination to make a further visit.

But here we are. And Hinckley has a district museum. Since it had a flourishing hosiery business from centuries ago, that sounded promising, so we moored up and caught the bus into town. The driver dropped us outside the door.

It was in a building like this that they had installed the hosiery machine that kickstarted the factory phase of the industry and we were looking forward to seeing the exhibits. I'd checked the website before we went, but I should have checked it better. It's only open on Saturdays!

I can confirm what I had always suspected – walking round the middle of Hinckley on a hot day holds few delights. Mind you, if it's a Saturday when we come back through, we might just make the journey again.

New territory

Nuneaton is not our favourite town for boating. The last and only time we came through (in the opposite direction), we picked up all sorts of rubbish around the propeller. The canal is really shallow, and some places seem to offer themselves as moorings, only for you to find that you can't get in near enough to the towpath. However, we did manage to find a place to tie up for long enough for me to walk a couple of hundred yards to a Sainsbury's Local that we'd found on the map. And the people were very friendly. 

Then it was down to Marston Junction.

We've never been on the Ashby Canal before.

However, everyone seems to say it is very picturesque, a bit under-visited (because it's a dead-end) and well worth a visit. It has a reputation for being shallow.

So we've moored up in the first spot we could find and, because we're now facing north-west-east are enjoying a bit of shade from the towpath trees.

Summit

Coming up the remaining 5 locks of the Atherstone flight this morning was made easier by various people who assisted. At the top lock there was a CRT volunteer who wound and pushed and pulled in the most helpful way. I told him he'd get an honourable mention on the blog tonight, so here he is:

I asked him what he was called, and I think he said "Coley", which would have been the first time anyone responded to this question with their surname. But my best beloved later said it might have been "Charlie". Anyway, thank you, Coley / Charlie. You're a star!

The top lock is very nicely kept, and the cottage is a treat.

So now we have no locks for the foreseeable future. Just as well, really, given the heat. We'd had about enough after a couple of hours today, and tied up in a beautiful, lonely spot in the wilds of Warwickshire, with only the odd tractor or two for company.

Of course, the sunshine has been great for the solar panel.

18 amps into the system. Enough to compensate for the washing machine, without the engine running. And the sun dried the result as well, in just a couple of hours.

However, one of the effects of being out in the sticks is that there may be an inadequate signal for getting this post posted. We shall see…

Gamble

We wanted to visit Atherstone for some provisions – they have an Aldi and a good Co-op within walking distance of the towpath. But at that point the canal rises through a flight of 11 locks, with mooring space limited. The maps indicated that there was a stretch of 48 hour moorings near to the best access point for the town. But designated moorings are designated for a reason (they're convenient and popular) so you can never tell whether they will also be full up. There were some earlier sites, but they would have entailed walking much further in temperatures pushing towards the 90s.

So we took a gamble on the 48 hour having space. If we lost, we'd have to go up the remaining 5 locks and find somewhere beyond – but that would be out of range of the town centre. Fortunately (!) we won.

Throughout the afternoon other boats pulled in. I'd been feeling a bit guilty about leaving a potentially unusable space between Erin Mae and the boat behind. But then someone came in with a boat about 30 foot long, which fitted just fine!

It's a noisy spot (car traffic on the A5 and trains), so I don't think we'll be using our 48 hour allowance. But we're in better shape than what my best beloved snapped as we came through.

Polesworth

As we came through Polesworth, we saw a notice across Bridge 52 – Polesworth Abbey was a 5 minute walk from either Bridge 52 or Bridge 51. Well, for us that's quite a lot of what the boating adventure is about – encountering things you never would in the normal course of events. So we pulled in just after Bridge 51 and set out to find the Abbey.

It would have helped if I'd looked at the map first. Then we'd have known to go downhill from the bridge. Even without the map I should have known. Think "Abbey": river, fishpool, mill, water meadows, etc. Instead I was thinking "city set on a hill" – stupid! So we had a longer walk than necessary, finding our way all around Polesworth until we got there. It was rather impressive from the outside.

It said "Open for private prayer", and we thought we could live with that. But the lock on the door to the North Porch hadn't been told about the notice, so whether the Abbey is as impressive on the inside remains to be seen. That's a shame, because the Christian witness on this spot dates back to Saxon times, and it would have been nice to have seen some of things linking us all the way back to them.

As can be seen, it was a hot day, 30˚ this afternoon, so we were glad to find a shorter route back to the boat. It involved crossing a bridge over the River Anker, and some of the locals were using the facilities to cool off.

We were tempted, but not for long. Back at Erin Mae we found we'd tied up just in front of Liz and Graham (NB Reeve), who are also members of the Boaters' Christian Fellowship. Liz brought out some excellent home-made fruit cake as we brought our multiple glasses of water out to the towpath and sat down for a natter.

Friends

In Fazeley, on the outskirts of Tamworth, live David and Mary, longstanding stalwarts of the Boaters' Christian Fellowship. Their boat, Kew, is old, long and traditional, and like nothing else we've ever come across.

Fazeley was our target for today. We tied up opposite David and Mary's house, and found that John and Jane, also BCF members, were moored just below Kew. So we popped across and had a very merry cuppa with them all in David and Mary's garden.

We had some other little successes today. We survived the heat, and managed to process a load of washing. We were able to purchase a cylinder of gas in Fazeley Mill Marina – apparently one side-effect of the pandemic had been a national shortage of standard 13 Kg containers. And the engine's overheating was held within reasonable limits. All in all, a good day.

Streethay Wharf

A new owner bought Streethay Wharf not so long ago, but it still retains the feel of a traditional boatyard.

(Photo courtesy of the internet and A.Non)

After a sandwich on the move, we called in as planned to follow up on conversations about sorting out the water ingress that had caused the chimney of Erin Mae's solid fuel fire to corrode. Today's chat was really helpful, though the time frame for fixing everything is still longer than we would have liked, and it looks as though we shall cruise the Ashby Canal before any heating issues are resolved. If the weather stays like it is, that will not be a problem!

We also discussed yesterday's overheating engine. Nigel thought it was probably a slightly sticky thermostat taking a while to wake up after 20 months inactivity. Monitor it (he said), and it will probably sort itself out. We shall see. At least there is no shortage of hot water for showers at the end of s sticky day!