What went on in July...

July was over before it seemed to have begun (as has been most of the year to date) - possibly lost in slow motion along the Kennet and Avon canal…the summer travels have begun and it feels wonderful to be on the move again. The plan is to have 3 months properly travelling; a Gold Licence this year means unlimited time on the Thames and any other river that’s not under the Canal and River Trust’s jurisdiction. Messing about on the river, all the way up to Lechlade via Oxford, is a lovely thing to do.

There were a few things happening before I started clocking up those slow miles along the canal…not least, the emergence of this year’s damsel- and dragonflies. They seemed to emerge from one day to the next, starting with the fabulous Scarce Chaser dragonflies and followed soon after by the pretty tiny emerald damselflies…oh, I really must mention the Ranatra Linearis that was pulling itself along the side of the boat, just underwater. I’d never heard of it so kind of thought we we’d discovered something completely new living in the canal! It’s known as a ‘water stick insect’, has the attributes of a praying mantis, breathes through its tail and is an underwater predator - how about that?!

Then, I went on holiday though there were plenty of times when the memorable line from Withnail and I came to mind: “we’ve gone on holiday by mistake”.

Highlights- catching up with great friends in the gorgeous harbour town of Portsoy in their fabulous Port House cafe; seeing puffins, razorbills, seals and thousands of other birds at the rspb Dunnet Head nature reserve; eating fish and chips in Whitby; coast walking from Whitby to Robin Hood’s Bay.

Lowlights - there are no highland cows in the Highlands (trust me on this); driving 1400 miles in 4 days; the rain, the relentless rain that made camping impossible in Scotland; eating fish and chips in Whitby (enough is enough!); seagulls at 4am (there’s no double glazing in a tent).

A big, even massive, boost this month photography-wise came in the form of a front cover and 2 page spread in Amateur Photographer magazine, where I was asked to talk about my favourite lens, the Sigma 105mm, and to submit some photos taken with it. The delight I got from this was made even greater when my SheClicks friends amassed a load of copies and sent me a photo - where would we be without the support of like-minded people?

And finally…July began with immeasurable sadness as we said goodbye to Dad. The fact he’d been suffering for too long and his passing happened with relative speed and comfort didn’t seem to make things any easier when it happened. He would be so proud of me and just the few things I’ve begun to achieve with my photography, so this is for him. RIP Dad xx

Pet Portraits - preserving a moment in time

Pet Portraits - my exciting new venture!

Isn’t it amazing how a left turn here or a right turn there can change a life?

Since 2019 I’ve been lurking in the narrowboat’s cratch, crouching in fields and hiding by rivers (to name just a few places) enjoying my wildlife and nature photography more than I’d ever imagined possible. It’s been wonderful; I’ve seen more of the UK in these years than in all my life, and been lucky enough to get to places inaccessible to most (I’m definitely thinking of the tidal river Ouse at dawn here).

And then, last summer, we made a very, very spontaneous decision to turn left off the Thames at Reading, heading onto the Kennet and Avon canal, a canal we left 3 years ago vowing never to return…and here I am (we are, don’t worry!), still continuous cruisers on our 45 foot narrowboat but with something like watery roots being put down around Devizes. It’s fabulous.

I’ve a stall in The Shambles, Devizes’ every Friday and Saturday (come and say hello) and am now branching out into Pet Portraits - what could be better than preserving a moment in time of your perfect pooch, your favourite feline, your happiest horse, mightiest mouse….OK I’ll stop there, the point is, I’m here to photograph all your pets and animals however large or small.

I’ll share more of my Pet Portraits as I capture more moments in time and, if you’re interested in your own photoshoot, please get in touch either here or via any social media app or even in person in the Shambles every Friday and Saturday. There’s no pressure, no obligation and my pricing is reasonable and clear, with no hidden extras. I’m not putting prices here because if you’re thinking of offering a session as a gift I feel it takes some of the charm away.

Well, now I have to go and get ready for tomorrow’s market…I hope to see or hear from you soon,

Take care til then,

Phil x

Narrowboats and Heatwaves

Now that the heavens have opened and the thermometer is back in the twenties, it seems apt to write about life on a 45 foot metal boat during times of extreme heat - how bad does it really get?

The short answer is, not too bad, all things considered.

Staying cool on the river Kennet

Narrowboats come with insulation as standard, which acts as a great shield for hot weather as well as cold. The small windows on my boat keep out not only prying eyes but also the sun’s glare. Open the front doors and the back and you have a pretty effective wind tunnel, or at the very least a hint of breeze - this is best done when you don’t have a boat parked half a metre in front, unless you’re happy to share your sleeping arrangements with strangers (not my thing).

Cooling Water - early morning on the river Kennet

And, very importantly, water is a cooling element, so living right on top of it keeps the temperature down compared to living in most houses.

We parked up in full sunlight to take advantage of oodles of solar power, but chose a spot that had trees at either end where we could take shelter when needed. We cooked outdoors, almost lost mooring lines to teething bullocks, hunted damselflies and went on long walks that finished with a well-earned drink…and I even got to watch the Wimbledon finals in the fresh air…what’s not to like?

Life after Lockdown...on the Llangollen Canal

And we’re off…it’s fabulous to be on the move again, going nowhere fast but going somewhere nonetheless. 

After 3 months of lock-free life, is it surprising that I started to fill rather than empty the first lock I needed to go through? What was second nature at new year had to be quickly re-learned to go up the flight of 4 locks on to the Llangollen canal; luckily there was noone but me to groan at my novice’s mistake.

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From the turn-off at Hurleston junction, there are 44 miles and 21 locks through Cheshire, Shropshire and despite the name, a surprisingly small bit of Wales, towards the end crossing the famous Pontcysyllte aqueduct (and no, I can’t spell or say it unaided).

In less than 24 hours on this canal I’ve seen wonderful blossom in the hedgerows and more bird species visiting my little feeder than I saw in the whole of lock down; I seem to be in a completely different world to the one that is barely 5km behind me.

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This morning saw the canal laden with slow-clearing mist as the sun came through the trees…

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… and a pair of moorhens and two drakes enjoying the calm.

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it’s been an amazingly special start to a new canal adventure and I hope you enjoy it along with me…

Phil xx

Life during Lockdown

I spent the first lockdown in a spacious 3 bedroom house in Somserset with my husband; we missed our 45 foot narrowboat and never quite got used to the confinement that lockdown brings but spent the time well, fully re-vamping our house so that when freedom beckoned it sold in 3 days. I was thankful I’d not been ‘trapped’ on our narrowboat; what with its limited space and the closure of the canals I could only imagine claustrophobia and frustration.

So, here we are at the better side of lockdown #2…how’s it been?

The fact that I’ve not written a blog post for 7 weeks is evidence enough that things have been pretty fine. Sure, reunion plans in Cheshire have sadly been put on hold and we’ve not explored the ‘Shroppie’ as much as we’d expected…but what I have done is spend more time in one place than planned and it’s been great.

Things take longer on a narrowboat…we needed to copy some documents and send them off and this took 3 days. One day to walk 3 miles to the nearest PO that doesn’t exist any more, one day to walk (through a field full of frisky bullocks, past some of the largest strawberry farms in the country) to the next nearest PO that doesn’t have a copier for the public to use and the 3rd day to take a bus to Stafford to complete the task. One day we walked 10 miles for the unrivalled luxury of an M&S food store - the fact it was in a garage forecourt only slightly dented the joy.

Having an isolated spot in the middle of nowhere but close enough to essentials has been key. The nearest shop is 30 minutes’ walk away, the nearest waste and sanitary station about 3 miles away. Filling the water tank and emptying the toilet become days out, planned in advance; we check the weather and aim to travel when it’s not raining, blue skies and calm days are the best. Our 6 mile round trip takes 4 to 5 hours, travelling in the wrong direction for an hour or so in order to turn around to go where we need to…you really can’t be in a rush.

Nature- and photography-wise, I’d high hopes for a mandarin duck who shared the first few lockdown days with me. There are always kingfishers darting and flashing in front of me whenever I’m running along the towpath - they don’t show themselves when I’m walking slowly, camera in hand. I’ve learned to identify fieldfares (though silently I always say ‘finefare’ which is a budget supermarket from my Cheshire days) and watched a bird of prey swoop in on an unattended pair of chicks. I’ve wandered with the Sigma 105mm macro lens that saw me so well through the first lockdown and enjoyed the way it focuses attention onto the small details. I even photographed a full moon and this morning watched a grey heron catching fish.

So I can safely say, I’ve had a ‘good’ lockdown and have a lot to be thankful for; I can’t wait to see my friends and family properly, to sit in a pub and have a pint and a chat with someone (anyone) and I’m going to stay on my little boat out in the sticks for as long as I need to stay stafe.

I hope that you’re all well and still smiling and getting out for some fresh air; look at trees and birds and berries and enjoy what’s around you…

Love, Phil xx

All the way on the Oxford canal

This was supposed to be a blog about counting locks rather than miles on the Oxford canal - but before I got to write it, we’d passed through all the locks and emerged into some sort of wondrous country where there are no locks…imagine travelling more than 8 miles a day with minimum effort!

Coming onto the Oxford canal after the river was quite a shock; after barely 3 weeks on the Thames I was fully accustomed to pressing buttons or turning easy wheels to fill or empty locks. Opening the gates was never a full body battle for me.

The very first Oxford lock is quaint; wide enough for just one narrowboat (widebeams aren’t welcome here) and charmingly rickety, I was reminded how each lock has its individual character – some are loveable, and some are decidedly unfriendly, consuming all my efforts, body weight and forgotten muscles before they move

The first stretch out of Oxford is a mix of locks and lifting bridges, nicely spaced and a gentle start to the canal…apart from one particular lifting bridge that beat me last year and beat me again this one, thank you helpful dog walker. The canal winds its way through open countryside, through tree-lines glades and narrow reed-filled stretches. We passed liveaboard communities, desirable lock-side cottages (and one that’s burnt out and derelict) and villages where weeping willows drape over the water.

But the locks…one day we travelled from 9 til 5, we did 13 locks and covered 9 miles. The next day, 9h30 - 15h45, 9 locks, 8 miles…it’s best not to be in too much of a rush and never stop thinking of the pub that is that day’s destination.

After all the locks and the disappointment of last year’s favourtie pub having moved its operation into a drafty marquee with minimal heating and dubious adherence to current guidelines, we moved quickly on to the northern part of the Oxford canal - exciting new territory to discover at last even if neither of us had realised we were entering suburbia and finishing just around the corner from an immense national grid power station; it felt as far removed from the ‘other’ Oxford canal as could be.

But this is where we discovered the joy of lockless cruising; 15 miles a day no sweat, with late starts and early stops. The only thing missing was the sunshine. We travelled the full length of the Oxford canal in 9 days; we could have taken more time but barbecue season seemed to have ended abruptlly and the rural idylls were behind us…onwards to the Coventry canal…

The best pub? The Victoria in Jericho, Oxford. Everything a local pub should be; great beer, brilliant staff and atmosphere, allegedly excellent pies and lots of space for a relaxing few hours. Plus decor that creates talking points if you’ve nothing really new to say to your partner!

Next post will be wildlife themed…the kingfishers have shown me a bit of love recently.

Until then, stay safe and stay warm…it’s getting cold out there.

Phil xx

to the top of the Thames

Having gone as far as Teddington, the limit of the locked section of the Thames heading south, we decided we absolutely had to go as far as possible in the other direction; we joined the Thames at Oxford last year, vaguely aware of the meandering opportunites if we took a right turn but more interested in heading south towards friends in Henley and castles in Windsor - we weren’t disappointed; it was a fabulous sunny week at the close of summer and we had a long lazy evening on the river bank at Eton, shared an apple with a bank vole at Cookham and drinks and dinner with those friends in Henley before joining the Kennet and Avon at Reading.

This year, though, we’re taking more time, slowing down (yes, we’d begun to feel that even our 3 miles an hour average speed on That’s Amore was taking us through places a little too quickly) and so a slow-paced adventure to the navigable start of the Thames just had to be done.

Heading north and then west from Oxford, the river does more than meander - it almost goes round in circles in places; travel any faster and it would be like a dizzying merry-go-round. But at 3mph the main concern is what lays beyond the switchback bends; it could be an oncoming boat or a tree half-blocking the way, whichever, there’s not a lot of space for complete relaxation at the helm.

Navigational hazards aside, it’s a beautiful stretch of river. From Godstow Abbey (linked historically with The Fair Rosamund and currently with an inquisitve herd of cows) to Newbridge (originally built in the 13th century but not quite the oldest on the Thames) and on to Lechlade, their are snippets of quirky history and delightful names - who wouldn’t stop for the night at The Trout at Tadpole Bridge?

We finally, lazily, arrived at Lechlade - the furthest point possible in a narrowboat - and felt quite a sense of achievement - maybe not quite like reaching the source of the Nile, but a definite feeling of completion. We walked a little further along the river and had a wander round Lechlade, a Cotswoldy small town with a fair selection of pubs with a fair variety of rules and regulations to keep us safe from Covid 19 and a shop selling only Christmas things. This unfortunately will be my abiding memory of Lechlad.

We’ve now turned around and will soon be back on the Oxford canal. I would have written that the wildlife has been quite non-descript; a few swans and geese, one heron and the odd moorhen. Until, this morning, when that most frustrating of birds flew past me and disapperaed into a tree. It did a great impression of an autumnal leaf (but they don’t dive for fish) and then, finally, it settled on a bush straight opposite me and l grabbed a couple of shots. So we’re staying here for an extra day, in the hope that the lovely kingfisher will show itself again, when the light is perfect and I’m in position in the cratch, that it will land on a clear branch for a minute or two then dive and catch a fish…I’m still the eternal optimist…

and the best pub of this blog is…The Trout at Tadpole Bridge - mainly because of the name, but also because it’s a wonderful place to park up - don’t buy the peanuts (£3.50 a bag!!!) and don’t expect an internet signal on your boat (walk up to the beer garden for that) - grab a pint and enjoy watching the paddle-boarders, dog-walkers and swimmers scrambling up and down the bank on the opposite side of the river.

Click on any of the images above if you’d like to see them full size, comment or message me if you’d like and, above all, stay safe, well and happy.

Phil xx

The River Wey Navigation, 1st attempt

Bad weather certainly stopped play for us.

24 hours into our 3 week exploration of the River Wey Navigation 17 trees crashed down - they narrowly missed a holiday boat (who knew a narrowboat break could be so exciting?), blocked the canal and towpath and thereby stopped us where we were, which was one lock on the right side of not being totally stuck.

The River Wey Navigation (I do like its full title) is a little-known section of the British waterways that joins the Thames at Shepperton and starts (or ends) in Godalming, Surrey - it was opened in 1653, allowing goods to be transported in both directions on horse-drawn barges built to carry 30 tons. Oak was carried downstream to the Thames for use in shipbuilding and corn brought back upstream for the mills along the waterway (thanks National Trust for the historic details).

After 72 hours the canal was still unpassable, so we turned around and moved back onto the Thames where we’re waiting to see if we’ll have time to get back on the Wey before the weather becomes too unpredictable for us and our little boat.

So, 72 hours, 4 miles and 4 locks…that’s not a lot of time or distance and yet, it was quite magical in parts, and quite drearily wet and sandy in others.

Magical smoking nettles puffing gently into the late morning air. I swear they smoke more if you don’t look at them directly.

The Navigation is part man-made canal and part river; the lock gates are ancient and heavy, the locks are deep and the water flow when filling is jaw-droppingly powerful - and the 1653 heritage plaques made me stop and think.

After Coxes Lock it’s very much like pootling gently down a country stream wth ancient oaks lining the towpath on one side and lilypads crowding the water’s edges. Ratty, Toad, Badger and Mole would fit in very well here although the wildlife was actually pretty scarce - an unexpected cormorant, some coots and ducks by the millpond at Coxes Lock and one family of swans. Maybe the rest are stuck on the other side of the fallen trees.

To interrupt this pastoral idyll, let me introduce the M25 that roars overhead and below it, the official toilet-emptying station - a perfect match, you could say.

Sand, sand and rain…I’d not realised how sandy this part of the country is and as everyone who’s ever set foot on a sandy beach knows, sand gets everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. The towpath is basically one long sandy way, albeit slightly less sandy now as so much of it made its way inside the boat, trapped in the mooring lines, on the roof, in the cratch…

Hopefully the trees will be cleared soon and we can continue right to the end of the River Wey Navigation - I am keen to see what other wildlife there is on it, keen to see if the sand runs out at any point, and above all keen to see family that are so close and still so far.

This week’s pub recommendation is from the river Thames (not enough time for proper research yet on the Wey!) - the Red Lion on the river at Shepperton was a gem of a find. They have private moorings, excellent service, extremely fine food (there’s a great chef with a deft but light touch in the kitchen) and the best house wine I’ve had in a long time. www.redlionshepperton.com

Take care everyone, and stay dry!

Phil xx

Kingfishers and me

Until a short while ago I could have, with reasonable confidence, told you of 3 places on the Kennet and Avon canal where I could hope to see a kingfisher. I don’t visit hides for my photography - all my shots are taken as I’m passing through an area, or maybe staying in the same place for a couple of nights at a push - properly itinerant photography.

So, my 3 places were where I had passed a couple of times on the narrowboat and each time there was a kingfisher - sometimes I could get a shot, sometimes (most times) it would shoot off in a dazzle of emerald and gold which I don’t mind too much - I’m lucky to see it anyway.

Last year, I was witness to a most extraordinary ‘battle of the kingfishers’; it seems that one bird flew into another’s territory, causing an incredible, fast-paced fight that saw them dragging each other down, pushing each other underwater and generally beating the **** out of each other before flying off in opposite directions along the canal. It was so unexpected that I had to ask my husband (manning the tiller at the time) if what I’d seen only metres in front of me really had happened. It had, and I have a few photos that document it.

Last year also, approaching a busy area with a marina and narrowboat rental company, I was amazed to see a kingfisher fly as leisurely as a kingfisher can from boat to mooring line, settling down and turning its back on me as we passed…very unusual behaviour from this most shy and skittish of birds.

So this year, armed with all the aforementioned experience, I was ready in some specific places on the canal - long lens on, dog cushion in the cratch to support its weight, camera settings checked, double-checked and checked again…and not one kingfisher showed me even a glimmer of a back feather. I found this lack of even a sighting really frustrating, because I’d expected to see them, whereas last year every time I saw one was a novel and unexpected delight.

Deep in the heart of the Pewsey Vale I left the boat for a couple of days and got back to be regaled by my husband with stories about the local kingfisher - which did helpfully swoop low along the river that evening and then remained resolutely hidden from view the next day.

I’m writing this post now because, such is the law of the sod, I sat down in the cratch to update my website (therefore no camera nearby) and one of the little darlings flew right in front of me, then straight across the river Thames, blatantly taunting me (I’m not taking this too personally, am I?).

Kingfishers - I love them and they’re driving me crazy! Hopefully soon I’ll be able to post a shot from 2020, but for now, here are some from last year. Oh yes, I did update the website - there are new photos in the ‘Wildlife’ and ‘Kennet and Avon canal’ sections.

Thanks as always for looking, I hope the kingfishers give you as much pleasure as they do me.

If you’re passing through Great Bedwyn any time, do call in on The Three Tuns pub (www.tunsfreehouse.com) - it’s a fabulous local with a good selection of drinks, incredibly helpful landlord (sometimes being itinerant means a pub is the best address you can get!) and a large beer garden.

Also, www.phoenixwoodfirepizza.co.uk deserves a shout for just about the best pizza outside of Italy - and that is not said lightly. They roam around the Wiltshire villages near Great Bedwyn and it’s worth timing a trip on a narrowboat to coincide with their timetable.

Hoping you’re all well and all still staying safe,

Phil xx

Conquering the Caen Hill Flight

first, some hard facts about the famous Caen Hill flight of locks:

1. it’s one of the longest continuous flight of locks in the country - a total of 29 locks with a rise of 72metres in 3.2 km (237 feet over 2 miles) - on the Kennet and Avon canal - if you want to head west past Devizes towards Bath or Bristol, you can’t avoid it

2. The flight of locks opened in 1810; by 1818, seventy 60-ton barges were working on the canal, mostly carrying coal and stone

3. A back pump at Foxhangers is capable of returning 7 million gallons of water per day to the top of the flight. That’s one lockful every 11 minutes.

4. people actually hire narrow boats to ‘climb’ the locks for fun

5. the locks have opening hours; in summer, they open at 8h00 and close at 17h00 which allows the last boats through to clear the top lock by 20h00 - you’re told to allow 5 to 6 hours to go through all the locks

6. the pounds by the side of the locks (they store excess water from opening and closing the gates) are teeming with wildlife - herons, swans, ducks

Now, some fun facts:

1. last year, going down the locks on our own (it was the middle of winter and noone was travelling) I walked almost 15km doing the 3.2km of locks. This year, on a busy summer day with another boat next to us through the flight, it was the much more sensible distance of 6km

2. there are volunteers there to help where needed…one was a man on a mission opening and closing paddles, another enjoyed patrolling on the quad bike in between greasing the mechanisms

3. the man on the boat in front of us was on the vodka and coke at 10am

4. swans will happily hitch a ride with you through the locks

5. there are lots of visitors to Caen Hill, mostly enjoying the spectacle of slightly out of shape people wrestling with stiff lock gates and saying, ‘‘call that a holiday?’ (my cringing reply towards the end of the day - ‘it’s not a holiday, it’s my life’ oh, the embarrassment)

6. there is always one more lock than you think (around the bend, where you’re slowly heading)

7. it really is great fun

there can only be one recommendation for refreshments…the Black Horse Inn, canal-side at the top (almost) of the flight into Devizes. We arrived 20 minutes before afternoon closing time, were warmly welcomed and enjoyed recovery drinks in lovely surroundings. Thoroughly recommended. At the moment they close mid-afternoon to deep clean before re-opening for the evening session, serving good food and a decent range of beers and if you’re on your narrowboat, you can tie up right next to the pub and settle in for the night.