Bartimaeus

While in Tewkesbury Shane had quite a few chats with the lock keeper, discussing the water levels and length of stay. He was quite chatty and when I was there he mentioned trying to travel one Christmas Day (if you are a lock keeper then you can probably travel on Christmas Day even though no-one is on duty) and finding the water upstream very strong so he travelled very slowly and was very late for Christmas dinner. As we yarned I was surprised to notice a large insect, that I normally associate with high summer, on the wall. To be fair it (or she) wasn't chirping but not that hidden away either.

I showed sufficient interest that the lock keeper couldn't resist coming to look and was surprised at how big it was. It looked bigger than my book described the dark bush cricket but none of the others matched either.

We had stayed an extra day to let the flow rate and water levels drop, before heading in to the Severn. Shane went to speak to the lock keeper and came back much faster than I expected. It was a different lock keeper, who was much less chatty, but still chirpy and helpful in the lock, taking my rope to help us tie to the side, as the pole was a distance away. I didn't need to show my inexpert rope throwing, nor step off to reach. The the lock being very deep, once we had gone down, he handed it back again, though I  could have managed myself.

He wished us well for our onwards travel. We headed out into the joining stretch, the Old Avon which flows into the Severn. Shane had exited the lock in electric and now went to start the diesel engine. As has occasionally happened, it made a sluggish sound and did not start. He had hoped the battery swap over had fixed the issue, but both batteries are the same age, and it might have been a cold night. He tried repeatedly and still it was not keen. Usually it starts after a bit of travel, so we wondered about trying to drive electric for a while then try, but what if it still didn't start and we were trying to go upstream using a lot of power. He didn't fancy it. We wondered if we might have to turn round and confuse the lock keeper, who might wonder what sort of crazy folk just turn right around. We were in gentle water here. Without the diesel  engine it might be crazier to go on.

He kept trying the cold start sequence and on perhaps the tenth attempt it started. What a relief! We headed off out of the Old Avon into the Severn. We have enjoyed the Avon, and taken our time going through it.

After the scare of the engine not starting we were reminded that on faster water, we might be wise to wear our life jackets and I went in to fetch them. Shane was happy to get his on while driving along, though I offered to drive while he did as they are a bit of a faff.

There are few moorings on the Severn and they seem even further apart when travelling upstream, so we had to keep going until the next town. There aren't many boats either, as the other lock keeper had lamented, it's a long day on duty with no boats coming through.

We did see some moored work boats, one nameless and the other called Elver and then once we had found our mooring another called Perch went past, it was all a bit fishy.

When we reached Upton-on-Severn, we moored up and had a late lunch before going to explore. We went to look at the tourist office but found it closed. There was a sculpture in progress though.

We spoke to the artist who explained that the sculpture was replacing a previous planter in the same shape, at the request of the community. The dog, he informed us, was called Cromwell. He said, having been a teacher, he sometimes did work with children, doing a school sculpture and they all contribute. He invited us to add a willow stick each so we have now 'helped' make him.

Across the road we found an open museum, called The Tudor House Museum. I overheard someone there, who was writing an article about it, interviewing the volunteer and heard that the building was not in fact Tudor. Most of the items in it were also a personal collection that has later been augmented by other towns people's donations. It a very eclectic mix of aesthetically pleasing old artifacts, with no particular story, in the main.

Some parts upstairs were laid out like room with kitchen items on a table and a bedroom with commode, washstand and cot. 

Some things I didn't even know hat they were, like the scorpion style spoon and the small two dimpled bowls that had a space for a cord or handle

Another floor up and there was a tailor's shop and some stories of other people in the town and pictures of the town. I was surprised to see that the Severn had been frozen one winter. The water seemed too fast flowing to freeze, especially enough for people to skate on it, but it seems this did happen then.

There was so much to see there, but we had to leave as it was closing. As we wandered round the town I saw a Pudding Shop, Vintage Records shop and The Stitchery. Fortunately it was closed so I wasn't tempted to buy more wool. Someone else had been busy knitting, very neatly too, but I couldn't quite tell the theme, a cross between nature, autumn and Mr Men. An eclectic town altogether.

We had seen a poster for an amateur play and we had decided to try to get tickets. Shane didn't manage to book on line but I cooked hastily so could we set off in good time to see if there were tickets at the door. As I was cooking I had seen some lads walking up and down the jetty. I popped my head out. One of their fishing lines was caught and so I let him on the boat to try to rescue it but it seemed to be caught underneath. At last they cut the line. 

It was an excellent farce, with many layered confusions built in - it was reminiscent of The Play That Went Wrong, but possibly even more ridiculous. There was a French theme. In the interval baguette, with brie or pate was served, then cake after. If we had known how much there was I needn't have rushed my cooking tea. A finale of Moulin rouge style display completed our fun evening at "Chase Me Up Farndale Avenue, S'il Vous Plait".

The next day we completed our Severn section, passing the area where the gravel boats collect their gravel, momentarily confused by the boat being across the river but that was because it was in the process of Perch newly loaded turning after picking up its load, and about to head downriver.

I rang the lock keeper ahead of arrival so he knew to set the lock for us and get any information we needed. I went down to the bow so as to be away from the roar of the diesel engine. As he was confirming that he'd come out and greet us and finalising the call, a kingfisher shot across in front of us and I instinctively exclaimed 'oh a kingfisher!' I don't know what sort of people he thought were coming, giving pointless exclamations. He made no remark on the phone. He didn't speak to me in the lock, but all went smoothly.

We moored outside the locks that take you to the basin, still on the river. We had the excitement of Heather joining us at Worcester and we thought she might want to go through those and have more lock variety. We had some spare time to explore Worcester and we would get more help with large locks.