Bartimaeus

The Caldon canal has a reputation as being attractive. We enjoyed our previous short first trip up there but it has often been closed or we were elsewhere.  It has taken a long while to fulfill our promise to ourselves to return. I remembered it being winding so interesting to drive, and also the relaxing mooring in the middle of a park. Of course that was summer with families picnicking, perhaps it would be different now. We had certainly been warned off before with stories of crime and ne'er-do-wells hanging around. We hadn't had that experience and planned to moor there again. We hope it isn't a rose tinted memory and that it will live up to expectations.

The entrance is good anyway with a wide turning space for those only using the facilities and then leaving.

I had done the staircase lock before so Shane set off to do it, while I cast off and headed round the bend. The route to the lock goes through some attracive open water and a right turn.

Shane made a signal that there was a boat coming. I wondered if I should hang back behind a moored boat if someone was about to exit the lock, so we didn't meet right beside it. I then concluded they were only just starting to work the bottom lock so I had plenty of time to drift past and into the lock mooring out of the way, before the gates opened. Hanging back would have been tedious for us both. We passed with merry waves and I made my way into the lock.

The doors always look enormous in a staircase lock since they rise up to the second step above the ground level. As usual the lock gates leaked and sprayed significantly. As I rose I could see the bricks gave way to huge old stone edgings.

The platform for operating the next level was a considerable stone structure too. Despite the active effort of working the lock, Shane had felt it cool enough to don his autumn wardrobe of long trousers and a heavy raincoat.

When I got up level with the ground, I could see a bollard had been painted to look like a toadstool. I don't think that is an edible fungus even when it's real.

We snaked along until we reached the park and decided it still looked friendly enough. There were certainly some people enjoying marijuana but they are everywhere in any town and they don't ever seem to be bothering anyone else and probably perfectly chilled. There were signs saying no loitering or alcohol suggesting complaints had been made before, but no sign of anything to worry about and mostly it was families having a walk or people enjoying sports.

The biggest concern I had was going to look at the tree trunk statue and finding a squirrel at the base. I went to photograph it and it ran towards me.

It paused at my feet then ran up my jeans to the hem of my jacket, with it's head hidden under it. I gave the jacket a bit of a flap and it shot off down to the grass.  Then moments later it returned and ran right up my leg again. I was glad it didn't come past my hip and I think the waterproof was off-putting for it. Down it went - they turn so smartly - and ran off.

We heard no trouble overnight and the next morning thought we would have a walk around and see if the cafe was open. As we crossed towards the cafe we could hear someone playing percussion to a backing track. I went to see and found he was freestyling using brass objects and a bottle with liquid in as his instruments. He spoke to me enthusiastically about starting to get into music during lockdown and he had acquired the brass items (mainly ashtrays) at a market stall. He had a little bugle or horn and demonstrated playing it along side a track with a cello. He wasn't busking just enjoying himself and loving sharing.

We decided to try the cafe lunch. It is a simple affair run by volunteers. We enjoyed the local Staffordshire oatcakes and it was sunny enough to sit outside. It was a pleasant view and atmosphere. People with a baby were chatting with the lady at the next table.  After eating we watched some people playing an informal game of cricket.

Before setting off, I went back to the carved tree trunk. No squirrel assault this time. There were several animals packed on to the trunk: heron, owl, bat, woodpecker, mouse. There is a fair bit of weathering, since I last showed it to Bryn in January 2022, so the creatures are less well defined but doing pretty well for an outdoor statue made of wood rather than the more enduring brass or stone. 

We headed off out of the park and under the attractive footbridge where we had been moored. 

We continued with a diversion to the shop for me while Shane drove round the bend. The route continues to show the kilns and some active ceramic manufacturers. 

We went in to Norton-le-Moors which had an arch to nowhere on the way in and some trackless trucks. 

I was interested to see one of the plaques celebrating a local, Walter Sylvester, from Stoke-on-Trent and learn he had invented "The Sylvester", a machine used to remove pit props safely. It was used in the mining industry from 1911 - 1978.

The next day had a misty start. We headed off in the morning anyway. The Caldon continues to twist and turn and the bridges show some wear and tear as usual with the brick or stone damaged, especially since some are narrow and all on a bend. I noticed that some older ones also had their number carved into a stone placed into the bridge especially for this purpose. This bridge mixes brick and stone. The stone on the towpath side is well rubbed by towing ropes. On the other side hunks of stone are missing. It is little wonder given the shape of the canal and the shape of the boats. 

I operated a couple of lift bridges. The first was hectic, but the second needed a windlass and the usual one was no good. There was an intriguing view from the spot where I had to go to wind it up on the other side of the bridge.

From the far side it was necessary to drop the bridge to get back to the towpath side but evidently there had been trouble with people nipping on at this side... Lone boaters have no choice but to do so or they can't get back to lower it.

Shane wanted to warm up and since I had done the bridges he went to operate the locks. Overhanging branches made it hard for me to see the way ahead and I felt silly when I mistook a woman in pink walking two dogs for Shane approaching - I am so used to seeing a bit of red and it being him.

At a later lock I got out as the boat rose to get a close look at the large artwork at the side. It was like a wall but incorporating local industrial history with pictures carved into the stone (or concrete made to look like sandstone) such as kilns and the Staffordshire knot and real objects set into it, like teapots, pick heads and large bolts.

The next day I was locking and I found it was definitely a set to take care where you step. Some clambering was required. Some safety notices were included but they weren't always easy to read. There were some overhangs and worn steps around.

At the next one a clearer warning was in place. This is the same wording.

I crossed to the other side and saw the stone steps down there were seriously wet. I wouldn't use those to get back aboard. The man whose boat was about to come in, swapped places with me so I could get back on without using those steps or climbing over the gates sitting open for his wife to drive in. Their boat was tiny. I said that could turn on a sixpence. They might find the bridge arches on a bend  easier.

The next one had a similar arrangement with the gate arm overhanging the steps. I love the old stonework but it is no place to be too laid back about safety.

Our plan the next day was to get to another museum with limited opening days. The Cheddleton museum was only open two days a week. It turned out to be several buildings. There were two mills a cottage and a tearoom.

It was as much outside as inside. The inside of the mills had the now familiar crushing of flint using boulders. 

That one hadn't been moving, but others were. A volunteer explained the process of draining the resulting slop. I had understood the leaflet provided in several languages) but couldn't find the equipment. It turned out to be underground. What was unmissable was the two giant water wheels.

The other mill had a display about ceramic colouring with layers to complete a picture. 

I thought that was a more modern method but had noticed also a lot of purple pigment powder in a large tub. This mill seemed to be mainly for producing the materials for the ceramics, but I aume that they sometimes explain other parts of the process that were not done on this site.

I enjoyed exploring the cottage and rose to the challenge of activating the  electronic card payment for donations. We had a very good chat in the tearoom with another couple who took us to see a submerged collapsed wall. There was a sign to warn of the danger but no marking of how far out it went, just advice or stick to the middle. I thought it was helpful to be shown it, especially since Shane went ahead to work the lock, which was a bit after the landslip, leaving me to navigate round the hazardous stone alone.