Bartimaeus

The mooring near Market Bosworth with the swallow aerobatics was too good to miss on our return south.  We arrived to find that others had spotted its attractions too.  Last time, there were no other boats opposite the cow field, now there were three boats moored up, but that still left space for us.  Our new mooring is nearer the bridge, a spot where the swallow activity is often even more intense than our previous spot.

There were some very strange clouds for a short while and a very sharp burst of rain just after I'd wondered about a walk - fortunately we hadn't set off.

We'd planned to visit the Bosworth Battlefield Heritage Centre this time.  I realised that we could walk from here easily enough, mostly along the canal.  The day was warm, so the the tree lined path on approach was a bonus.  It turned out to be the second half of a circular walk to the centre punctuated with information points.

The centre was fascinating, including an exhibition about recent research in to the location of the battle - now thought to be several miles away.  This only reinforced what a messy business history is.  I learnt that Richard III died at twenty-five past three - or 1485 as they called it in those days, Queen Elizabeth I was the third Queen Elizabeth, and the second one was the great-great-grandmother of James I - and VI.

We walked the first half of the circular trail on our way back to the boat for more aerial acrobatics from the swallows over our al fresco dinner,

We repeated the same start to the walk this morning, this time only going as far as the platform at Shenton Railway Station on the Battlefield Line for a rail themed day.

We took the train to the other end of the line at Shackerstone for lunch at the Victorian tea room Clare had found when we had moored nearby last week.  After an enjoyable lunch and a short browse in the museum, we took the next train back as far as the model train exhibition at Market Bosworth.

We had an enjoyable chat on the way with a couple from Crickhowell - a village by the Monmouthshire and Brecon Canal that we have visited by bike and boat (not on Bartimaeus, it is not connected).  One of our companions described our train as a "twelve inches to the foot model".

We spent an enjoyable afternoon looking at the smaller scale models before returning to Shackerstone for another drink and then to Shenton again.

We had gone a short distance along the road when I was distracted by a cow and calf paddling in the river next to the road.  I think these are the same animals we saw yesterday at the opposite end of the field.

Two cyclists who had been walking towards us stopped to ask for help with navigation.  It turned out that Casey's bike had a puncture and he and Charlotte were now having to walk to Hinckley.  I suggested a better solution might be for them to walk back to our boat where I was sure we could fix the puncture while they had a cuppa.

We had an enjoyable chat on the way.  I set about fixing the puncture with Casey keen to see what I was doing.  The long thorn in the tyre made identifying the puncture site very simple, and I was easily able to expose the right part of the inner tube without removing the wheel.

Drinking tea and chatting was an excellent way to fill the time while the devulcanising fluid dried, then the patch went on.  The tyre seemed to hold its full pressure, but Casey was happy to delay long enough for another cuppa to be sure.