Bartimaeus

Last night we came through a tunnel and moored up. We heard voices and saw houses above us. We realised we had taken pictures of the dramatic red rock and trees tunnel before but not stopped at the village. We set off to look after having our dinner and feeding crumbs to ducklings.

Before we got off the towpath we heard a lot of chat. Down the step path were several people carrying an inflatable boat. The woman at the front told the group to stop. She was offering to let us go past, but we said we wanted to go up that path so we were happy to wait for them.  

At the top of the path we met a girl who asked if we had seen anyone carrying a green boat so we told her that we had and they were heading under the tunnel. A woman joined her and they were excited to see the boat action and had their camera ready! 

The village of Cookley advertised it's name widely on several businesses and seemed lively. We picked a book up at the telephone box library with several eating options and shops.

Returning to the boat we met two people carrying the green inflatable boat and a small group behind chattering loudly. "She fell in!" Indeed the woman we had met before carrying the boat, emerged from the side path dripping wet head to toe. It had been an adventure alright, but she was in less ebullient mood than before.

Shane went in the morning with a parcel to a friendly shop keeper. We had wondered about going to the village for lunch but much closer was a garden and shack off the towpath selling coffee and panini. It particularly welcomed boaters and cyclists. We went there and sat at the pretty tables I saw a chiffchaff in the tree next to us. They also sold earings of green riverside glass and home preserves. I was tempted by both.

There was chat at the next table about the lack of water and people asking if we had trouble moving. In general it is fine but there were shallow spots.

Moving slowly also means you don't get quite so firmly wedged if you do find a shallow spot. We saw there was a flow on the canal and once we were going we spotted the level looking well down. Shane speculated that perhaps a paddle was open somewhere. It was a while before the first lock.

We heard some screeching and Merlin identified a buzzard.  Much later on we heard the screeching again but this time from different directions and when we looked up we saw four buzzards circling.

Some cyclists screeched to a halt beside us as they spotted piglets. I commented that I should have shouted stop when we had cycled past recently, but then we didn't know there were piglets. Shane pulled over and I got a closer look.

Beautiful sandstone walls and occasional mallard ducks and moorhens entertained along the way, but at one point Shane said "what's this?" and I came to his side to see the well camouflaged and dainty female mandarin duck and two youngsters on the very edge of the bank.

When we arrived at Whittington lock, I worked it, but Shane had had an idea to clean up the dusty solar panels by washing while we were in a lock and had access to both sides. For a change I could take my time over opening the lock and dropping the paddles, as it would be ready before he was ready to drive.

There seemed not to be a flow after the lock and the next stretch didn't  seem so low. If it had been lower, the bridge might not have seemed so low. It was clear as we went under that, not only had some boats caught the low right side, there was a fair amount of scraped away brick underneath. It may not be recent of course as there are lots of rope marks from the horse hauling days on these bridges too. With an empty roof and no chimney we fitted fine, but had to duck a bit.

As we approached Kinver the way ahead looked busy. There were a lot of canoes in the water, with a lot of young paddlers, in pairs and threes. They didn't have an instructor with them and were fairly random about where they went, as we moved very slowly through the scattered group, but they passed without mishap. At least no major mishap, we could see some people padlng with their hands to reach their paddle floating in the water; one with a young child pushing the wrong way making it harder for mum to get anywhere or steer; one where one canoeist splashed another with their paddle; occasional screeching and a paddle abandoned, leaving us to wonder who was up the Staffordshire and Worcestershire Canal without a paddle - not as snappy to say, nor as scary.

It was also busy with moored boats. Shane was hoping for a sunnier spot and declined a boater's offer of the space in front, as we went past, warning that ahead lay one day mooring only. We said we planned to move again tomorrow in any case. The owner leaning out of his hatch also remarked on the silent cruising and also in stead of thinking we might be having trouble making headway, hence the slow pace, he remarked positively that he wished we would teach other boats how to pass moored boats. 

We safely reached Kinver but ended up in a shadier spot after all and taking the last 'one day mooring' spot available. The returning paddlers made for further entertainment. I sent a message to Tracey saying we had made it to Kinver.

We did get some evening sun and enjoyed al fresco dinner, then went for a stroll past the next lock. Here there were plenty of privately moored boats. This made the whole section very full as these don't move hardly at all and the tow path really was their garden. Some had potatoes and herbs in tubs on the towpath and others looked like a carefully planted ornamental park.

Once we got beyond the next lock, the boats thinned out and we admired the open view. We watched a heron and it was not scared away by our presence across the canal. I didn't want to scare it by reaching for my phone. It looked very intently at the water. Shane remarked how we hardly ever saw one catch a fish. As if to prove him wrong, it immediately shot it's neck forward and stood with a wriggling fish in its beak. Making sure it didn't get dropped back in the water, for an easy escape, it moved to the field before repositioning and gulping it down.