Hinckley to Snarestone, 15 miles, 0 locks, 1 tunnel
Contrary to the wet weather I was expecting today and which last night's weather foretold, this morning the sky was blue and full of white cotton wool balls. Not wishing to waste the weather, I was soon off, although well wrapped up with my hat and gloves on. Nicholson's says that the Ashby canal is shallow in places and they aren't joking—some of the corners are tight and when you're as long as Oothoon, there's always the danger that one or other end will get stuck on something, although it hasn't actually happened. Other than that, the canal meanders across the countryside, completely ignoring that there might be a rest-of-the-world out there somewhere. Only the occasional sound of cars or kids larking about on motorcycles, reminds you that you aren't in the bit of Leicestershire That Time Forgot.
Stopped for elevenses—and to take my pills—near Dadlington. Well, it might have been Dadlington—none of the villages are near the canal as such. Even Hinckley, which I've almost gone through the middle of, completely ignores the canal. Don't get me wrong—there is civilisation nearby if you want it, but it's all a little walk away first.
Lunch was 'near' Market Bosworth, which is about a mile and a half away. Nicholson's says that it's much as it was in the 18th century, which would explain why all the visitor moorings were full: I've noticed a fair few owners of modern boats who go out of their way to recreate a 'golden age' of boating, with their 'original' engines, boatman's cabins, scumbled panelling and rose and castle paintwork, but you know that in a corner of the engine room there's a Victron to power the microwave and up front a flat-screen telly just across from the Squirrel stove. I guess it makes sense to them, but I just find it strange. Anyway, lunch was soup and a sandwich again, which makes sense to me.
After lunch, it's time to travel the last leg of the canal, although that's unfair really. This is one canal where being forced to go slowly is actually part of the pleasure. The countryside really is so lovely and with no locks to worry about you can take the time to enjoy it. The weather was still being kind this afternoon and the occasional tree has changed colour—vivid red and gold against the greens of the others. Plenty of wildlife too, with the usual ducks and swans being joined by the occasional farmyard goose or at one point by grouse (which I recognised off the whiskey bottle label).
Past Congerstone (which Nicholson's describes as "Scattered village of small interest.") and Shackerstone with it's teeny tiny aqueduct and on to Snarestone and the Snarestone Tunnel. It's 250 yards (229m) long and apparently the headroom decreases towards the northern portal. What they don't tell you is that there's what looks like a wiggly bit in the middle and that the headroom isn't fantastic to start with. If you're concentrating on missing the walls and keeping your chimney, it's easy to forget about your head. Fortunately John had mentioned this when we were talking back in Fradley and I remembered to duck just in time, so both boat and boater came out unscathed.
After the tunnel there's a slight shimmy, then you're there: the current terminus of the canal. The canal itself actually continues for another 9 miles (14km) except that the bit from here to Donisthorpe—i.e. the bit through Measham and Oakthorpe—is missing. The Ashby Canal Society have had several attempts to raise the money to reinstate it, only to get knocked back at the last moment, either by the Lottery saying no or due to a troublesome landowner who wouldn't budge. They've achieved great things so far, including getting the section of the canal past Moira Furnace to Conkers (a kind of hands-on forestry educational thing for families) re-watered and they've either acquired the land or at least got a Transport and Works Order in place for the route, but they're still a good ten million pounds short. But this money isn't to restore the canal as was, which is impossible; it is to provide a new route through Measham that will reuse the old railway line and would have canal running through Measham Railway Station rather than tracks. It's exciting, but would mean introducing two deep locks so that boats can go under the A42. I rather like it without.
Dinner was yesterdays left-over Toad in the Hole, which was surprisingly nice. And further cheery news is that, after spending time 'drying out' at The Radiator rehab centre, my phone is functioning again. It's built-in GPS still hasn't a clue where I am, so I'm guessing that that's working too. Not only that, but after spending a surprisingly long time in reconstructive surgery (surprising for something that only has seven parts in total), my Ikea aerolatte is frothing better than ever. I never actually make Cappuccino of course, but I find that a few seconds aerolatte-ing during heating transforms packet soups and is especially brilliant at zapping any lumps if you're making one of Delia's all-in-one sauces. Worth the £1.50 just for that alone. Wonder how brilliant it would be in hot chocolate?!
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