Company comes and goes on these moorings. I feel as Jim Rockford must have felt in the opening scenes of the Rockford Files; still while everyone else is blurred because they’re all moving.
The Rockford Files was great to watch – from that television series I learned how to do J-Turns… find a nice deserted car park… work out what Rockford must have done to spin the car around backwards… do it… leave before some local resident calls the police…
You can’t do a J-Turn in a narrowboat. Not intentionally, anyway.
The Worm-Danglers & Laughter-Givers Club is in full swing through the next two bridges. Do The Watery Wellness Trust Ltd. Kerching PLC really spend time, money and other resources on “angling coach” training events? I wouldn’t put it past them, but in the interests of oiking over the benefit of the doubt in spades I also wouldn’t put it past the local Worm-Drowners Club to try to make their event look “official” by usurping the unsullied and much-respected C&RT name.
There’s no “sharing the space” with this lot; they want it all.
Boats verboten please.
In my day (by ‘eck, eckythump and I’ll go t’foot of our stairs &etc) a chap angled with a small rod, a pocketful of maggots and two rounds of SPAM & HP Sauce sandwiches. Anglers these days carry more
utter crap totally useful equipment than does the average Shimla railway-porter.
I didn’t see much evidence of any “coaching” going on, it looked more like just another line of happy anglers bravely chasing terrifying tiddlers. There was no-one in hi-vis and sandals rushing back and forth between them giving encouragement, suggesting deep-breathing exercises for courage, and generally channeling Zen and/or Fly Fishing by J.R.Hartley.
Oh well. What and ever.
There are teenage sheep in the field alongside these moorings. They bleat a lot. All night.
Bleat bleat bleat bleat bleat.
My theory is that they are saying rude things about anglers.
I haven’t found too many footpaths yet, most of the countryside is fenced off.
This is a shame, because there’s much countryside.
There is a Grand Example of “Stating The Bleedin’ Obvious” on the canal hereabouts. This one has been here for years, and ranks up there right alongside warning signs that warn ‘This Sign Has Sharp Edges’.
It’s getting towards the end of the afternoon on a sunny day – these moorings will probably be rammed again ere duskfall.
My interwebnetting disappeared earlier. One moment three bars of 4G and then wallop, one bar of something called “H+” that actually did nothing at all in the way of internettery connectivitode. Then it came back again. I suspect that someone was fiddling with the nearest mobile antenna.
For the moment all is well. I have cake (thank’ee!), I have coffee, I have no pressing need to be elsewhere until next weekend – when the Audlem Festival is held, and the Cardinal and I must be long gone. The Audlem Festival is … there’s no easy or polite way to say this, so brace yourself … folk music and the like.
[Hangs head out of side-hatch to scream scream and scream some more. Takes a swig of laudanum, pulls himself together and brings head back inside the boat.]
If this place is crowded now, it’ll be Hell Afloat come next weekend.
And the boaters’ Services at Audlem are still closed.
There’ll probably be an outbreak of dysentery.
One can but… no, no – I won’t say it out loud. Even folk music fans don’t deserve that.
Here – have some more baa-lambs, and help me to think nice thoughts, and contrite thoughts, and to love my enemas – even folk music fans.
Hector bad. Old Hector think terrible thoughts. Hector not nice person.
Hector fallen into puddle of Frankensteinean grammar.
Hector go now. Hector eat cake, drink coffee. Hector hug local swan.
p.s., don’t forget, jadies and lentilmen, please each tell eight thousand of your very closest (and richest) friends that lots (and increasing numbers) of Hector’s photographs are available as prints and posters and greetings cards and shower curtains and mugs and … things. Hector like sales. Hector eat good things when get sales. Hector be nice. Hector not have to eat baa-lambs if get good sales…