Not many, is the innumerate answer. You’re lucky on a busy canal to hit 4mph – when passing other boats, either moored or travelling, you have to knock the throttle back to tick-over speed, which is much less – and even luckier to sustain that for any distance, so the miles you cover in a day, even one that that begins at 7.55am, and especially if it includes locks and a tunnel, add up to very few.
But it was a good day:
there was some dramatic weather that timed itself perfectly for lunchtime, and
for the rest we had pleasant sunshine, cows, ducks, ducklings, a blue flash of
kingfisher, woods, fields and pretty lock cottages. There were also, I have to
say, the M1 where for some distance it felt as though we were on the hard
shoulder; and the railway line the other side with the frequent silver scream
of a Virgin train flashing past.
But then we were back to more bucolic scenery where, on return trip now, we recognised cottages and moored
boats. There was a pretty shop selling ‘Canalia’ which is much less raunchy
than it sounds – tea towels with a pattern of narrowboats, brass canal plaques, model boats, and metal jugs painted with the traditional Roses and Castle motifs.
Our lock buddy today was a
cheerful, friendly, scruffy guy with few teeth and a pretty girlfriend, very
proud of his Lister engine and who shared some non-judgemental helpful tips on
steering. They were no help to me, sadly, when I entered the tunnel and got
hung up in the dark on its kink soon after. We lost a fender to the struggle, but the day
ended well anyway, back at Braunston’s peaceful mooring with a colourful sunset
and sleeping ducks after salmon and spinach tart (with free Wifi) at The Boathouse.
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