Different Strokes

On Sunday afternoon, we tied up for lunch just beyond the deafening M6. It was the only place really, else we would have been pitched into the next series of locks.

As we untied after lunch, the unmistakable bow of Chertsey thundered around the corner and quickly caught and overtook us.

To aid their progress they also had assistance from the enterprising "Rob the Lock" and the 26 locks from Kidsgrove must have been completed in record time.

We ambled into Wheelock, a good half hour or more after them. Rocky and Jonesy were reacquainted , and we dined outside together at the canalside Italian. It was a warm evening, and the food and carafes of wine felt almost continental.

The next time we saw Chertsey's monstrous bow was through bleary eyes. Peeping through our cabin curtains at the deathly hour of 7am the monster boat was on the move. Even though all available crew were drinking quite late, Chertsey's version of Whacky Races began another day. Why? We kept asking ourselves but it wouldn't do for us all to be the same. We've perfected a lazy lifestyle on board. Sarah and Jim are supreme warriers battling through an insane number of locks each day on their punishing schedule.

On Monday afternoon we tootled into Middlewich, and were serviced by Martin on the very tidy Fuel Boat Halsall. Top bloke. Top service.

Martin on Halsall

The idea was to stay in Middlewich for 2 nights, but the town centre seems closed and forlorn.  There are no shops to excite First Mate, who was hoping for new pyjamas. The town seemed made up of beauty parlours and funeral parlours. So we concluded that Middlewich must have the best groomed bodies dead or alive.

We will now move to the next village and find its pub.