Bartimaeus

We had a second day at the jazz festival but climbed a hill first. It was tricky finding the path. A set of stone steps looked like a good start but seemed to take us to a place with no obvious path and a lot of marsh. Sheep were sheltering in an abandoned building, instead of trotting up the Yorkshire hills.

Once we had hit the right track it was a steep but swift walk to the top and an even swifter climb down. We saw some stones at the top with round holes in them and smaller ones further down. Large rocks had been shaped into gate posts.

For lunch we tried a cafe we had liked the look of but yet again it was booked solid so we continued our search and went into a Vietnamese cafe. It was an unexpected find in a Yorkshire (large) village, but we were really glad we gave it a go. I had a Vietnamese affogato to drink and since the place had their own ice cream it felt the right thing. Shane had a brunch with deep fried pancakes and I had very delicious dumplings freshly made and hard to handle with chopsticks. I can recommend! Forks were also provided.

I was not that surprised to discover that their dumplings won the champion of the North at the British street food awards. We then wended our way to a church with bands playing. We enjoyed a swing band and then a group with a some powerful vocals and yet more excellent sax playing, and great cake.

We headed to the Arts centre again and caught the last performance of the day. The Hanson sisters were playing violins in a string quartet. In jazz style, they had no conductor  or sheet music but were in tune with each other. I was blown away by their talent, and so I should be as they revealed at the end that The Rossignol Quartet were going to be playing in the Albert Hall at the Youth Proms next month. We were so lucky to catch them in a tent in Marsden. They may be world famous soon. They played their instruments in a many different ways, plucked strummed as well as bowed.

They did more impromptu playing later while we were exploring the Arts centre. I nearly bought one of the t-shirts. One had their surname on it, as the Arts centre seems to be a family run venture. I have been seeing the various versions of the t shirts and had climbed the stairs behind a man so had a chance to read “louder, higher, faster” on his back. The building had exhibits and an interesting timeline of the area and the arts. It is situated near the Standedge canal tunnel (longer, higher, deeper than any other canal tunnel in Britain) so it was included in the timeline. In between the start of building and the opening of the tunnel, Beethoven’s Fifth symphony premiered in Vienna.

In the morning we expected to mosey on down to the tunnel entrance mid morning and be there in plenty time, but in stead the phone rang while we were still in bed and they were expecting us to be there already. We cast clothes on and ropes off and approached the tunnel. There were volunteers there to greet us as we approached and one asked me if we wanted  water. I said I didn’t think we needed it, then he mentioned that a full tank kept the boat marginally lower in the water, so I took that point and pulled forward to the water point. I got on with sorting that while Shane went to investigate inside the engine compartment from where there had been some very unhappy noises and a lack of battery generation. Since he seemed busy I engaged with the staff, answering the questions from the man with the clipboard, about the boat dimension; observing the large light being mounted and discussing safety regulations such as the fitting of helmets and life jackets. He showed me a well scratched helmet. Shane as designated driver had a high viz vest too. They regaled me with tales of those deemed incompetent or foolish who had taken chunks of stonework off the walls or run out of diesel during their transit through the tunnel. Soon the tank was full and the hose stowed, the safety equipment on, the boat measured and the pilot, Trevor, was aboard. As I cast off, I was told that the view from the front was very good so I sat there, ready to be official photographer.

With the extra light I had a much better view of the tunnel than normal and while Trevor was with Shane, I could hear almost everything he said so I didn’t feel I was missing out on the gen, which was mainly about warning him of a bend coming up and also pointing out features of the build. An oddity was that being so far ahead of them I occasionally experienced a sudden waft of cold air then hear Trevor a few seconds later warn Shane it could be draughty in the upcoming section, or I met the colleague without knowing he would be there. With the tunnel being so old there have been various reinforcement techniques and repairs made over the centuries, so the tunnel was far from uniform in shape, size, materials or even direction. 

There were some wide spaces where a boat might rest and perhaps it was intended that boats could pass but as it was impossible to see boats coming, this would only have been useful if there was  only two boats and they met in just the right spot. It did let me see things from a different angle and feel prepared to lean out a little. Mostly I kept myself inside the profile of the boat. With uneven walls, and a narrow passage boats inevitably scraped the walls and at one point I saw the green casing of a navigation light snagged on a rubber stopper. 

Outside we moored up, made the purchase of Trevor’s book and met the boaters about to head in the other direction. I remarked that his canopy at the front would keep dry anyone who wanted the prime viewing spot there. I was wrong on two counts. He intended to remove the newish covers before entering so they didn’t get damaged (good call actually) and his wife hated tunnels and had no intention of having a ringside seat. She planned to stay inside. We waved the boater away, an ex miner, he was blasé about the rugged tight space ahead. I hope he enjoys it.

Tunnels didn’t used to be my favourite, being dark, cold and damp on a summer holiday, but when the temperature was the same as outside and the interior as varied as this one, I found it an interesting ride and was amazed that it had taken as much as two hours, it hadn’t felt that long. My only regret was that I hadn’t had a more cushioned seat. 

We prioritised our postponed breakfast. Then we explored the route ahead. We had spoken to a lock keeper who was not going to be around to help tomorrow but gave us information about the pounds ahead. As we walked we met more friendly volunteers oiling the mechanism of a stiff paddle and saw many volunteers on gardening duty. The system relies on them. The pilots too are experienced volunteers.

Along the way there was a playful game as a means of educating. It was like a race game with a spinning dice and flat stones to move yourself or a nearby rock or stick, along the path. The cost of building the tunnel was not only financial but dangerous for those tunnelling. A toll to use the tunnel was extracted. I do wonder if the workers families received anything for their loss.

We got in some shopping in the town of Uppermill and found the quickest route was across some very large stepping stones. Irregular in size and shape but carefully placed rock was the order of the day.