May Day To The Coronation

Saturday, twenty-ninth April started with a couple of hours of rain but brightened up eventually, so we set off for Atherstone, where we planned to spend the next couple of days. It was a dry and even sunny day for the most part, before rain returned about four o'clock.

On the map, Atherstone always seems as though its should be a classic, pleasant canal side town. We know the reality is that it is quite a gritty, run-down sort of place. We had come through during COVID when everything was coming out of lockdown and last year when it was showing signs of coming back to life. If anything, it seemed rather worse this time. So much of the main centre seems to be dilapidated and whether the buildings are occupied and doing business or not they all seem to be in desperate need of the most basic maintenance. Just a lick of paint and some gutter repairs would make a huge difference to the vibe. Particularly noticeable is that, everywhere you look, there are cracked or broken windows that have clearly been that way for ages. It seems sad as the signs of a far more prosperous past can easily be seen and there seems no shortage of working age people and expensive cars.

Nevertheless, it has all the basic amenities we need from a town. We stopped short of the official visitor mooring, on the embankment above the only recreation ground, as it is much more pleasant there, across from the community open space called Ruby's Yard, than opposite the crumbling, abandoned hat factory by the locks.

The first order of business was the laundrette by the market square, which is open seven days a week. While we were waiting we had a look round the Saturday market. It was starting to wind down when we reached the square but it did seem to have been quite busy. We had a look round the remaining stalls and bought a kiwi pie. This is not a pie stuffed with kiwi fruit but minced beef & cheese, in an individual pie, using shortcrust pastry, which we served that evening with gravy on the side . Then we stopped at the Market Deli for a coffee. They had stopped doing any food as early as one o'clock but when they came out and met Archie, a plate of freshly cooked sausage magically appeared, which he reluctantly agreed to share. Having sat by the church at the top of the square to eat the samosas we had bought for lunch the washing was ready, so we headed back to the boat in time for the rugby.

The women's (not ladies because we are dead woke!) six nations competition has really gathered a following this year and we have certainly enjoyed it. It may be that people have started watching it out of sheer frustration and disappointment with the men's side but the ladies (whoops!) are undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with and put in a great performance. This climax, in front of a record crowd at Twickenham for the first time, against our old friends, the French, with everything to play for in the Championship, was a nail-biting affair with the right result only narrowly achieved at 38-33.

With rain promised for the morning, although it didn't happen until the afternoon, we stayed put on Sunday and did some DIY around the boat before I took Archie out for a long walk after lunch. Moored this side of the town we had immediate access to the golf course and paths out through Purley Park to Mancetter and the high viewpoint at Oldbury Camp. We had always been aware of the quarry here. The clues are everywhere in names like Quarry Farm and Quarryman's Walk. You can hear it operating from a long way away during the week but I hadn't actually walked up the path beside it before and had not appreciated the real scale of it.

Moonscape At Mancetter Quarry

Looking down from the high points on the track, if you squint hard enough,  it could almost be mistaken for a mountain valley with beautiful blue-green lakes on the valley floor.

Bank Holiday Monday. The first of May and the first of many this year. We set out down the eleven-lock flight in the morning, stopping to fill up with water, run the washing machine and top up with water again as we went. We arrived at Polesworth and moored up beside the Abbey Green Park on the way in to the village.

We didn't see a maypole but Polesworth feels much more like a peaceful canal side village. The park is quite extensive, bounded by the river Anker to the north, the canal to the south and the village, itself, to the west. The Abbey Church of St. Editha, whose former grounds presumably now comprise the park, lies on a small hill on the far bank of the Anker and there are good pedestrian routes away from the main street to cross the river and reach it via the allotments. The village isn't as big as somewhere like Atherstone but it has most of what you need and seemed in a much better state of repair.

We tried the Spread Eagle at the top of the town. There was far too loud music provided for us and the other couple in the bar, they had run out of draught beer and could only accept cash payment. They also offered a very friendly welcome so it wasn't all bad. Still we moved on after one drink and tried the Red Lion in Bridge Street, equally welcoming but with beer, a card machine and some quieter areas. They also had good enough internet service to allow us to order an Indian takeaway to collect on the way back to the boat.

The injuries Sue had picked up in Rugby a week ago were steadily improving but one knee was still swollen and a little inflamed. At this point she felt it was worth getting it checked out so, while Archie and I went for a long walk, she got a taxi into Urgent Care at Tamworth. Despite the NHS waiting time reports and industrial action she was assessed, X-rayed, diagnosed and back on the boat before noon. All was well, time and paracetamol were all that were prescribed. Apparently she was also told to rest it and it is surprising just how many routine chores can not be achieved without full use of the left knee.

We made the short hop from Polesworth to just beyond Pooley Park in the afternoon, to moor in a nice spot we have used before, in the sun, with the grounds of the old priory and their trout pools beside the towpath to give Archie a good run off the lead.

Our mooring spot at Pooley Park is also just a few hundred yards short of a Homefire Depot up on the road above the canal. In the morning we set off and we pulled in here, where we could nip up to the depot, buy some kiln dried logs at cheaper than marina prices and borrow their sack barrow to bring them down to the towpath.

We were on a bit of a mission and a day that started out quite well soon turned into one to forget. We went down the two Glascote Locks to Fazeley Junction in a rising wind. There we found a boat moored right up against the bridge and opposite the junction itself. I always find it a tricky turn and with an unhelpful wind really needed all the space I could get. Backing up to bring the nose round led to the inevitable bump and the appearance of the boat owner a person of indeterminate pronoun. While not best pleased, 'they' didn't make that much fuss and we got on our way.

The most irritating aspect of this incident was that we didn't want to turn down here at all. We needed the services that have been moved down to Fazeley Mill Marina, ten minutes down this arm, so we had the pleasure of having to pass them, wind, use the services and come back up to the junction again. Thankfully, the boat moored opposite had moved on by now and we could carry on up to where there was access to a large Sainsbury's to get some supplies. Stopping there, I found that I had left the mooring chain for the bow back at Fazeley Mill Marina. It wasn't that far, about a twenty-five minute walk so, while Sue went up and started shopping, Archie and I walked back to see if  we could retrieve the chain. By the time we got there we had been gone for only about an hour, in which time it had already been taken. The only saving grace was that I could walk into the marina there and buy a replacement straight away!

We walked back and continued up to the retail centre to meet Sue and help carry the shopping, before continuing on to Hopwas. By the time we moored up there it felt like a long day but the space we found was close to the two pubs facing one another across the canal and we chose the Tame Otter for a restorative drink. A nice pub, pretty busy and one of the first we have been in that has really felt that they are back in full swing.