Happiness is an empty toilet and a full water tank

Watford to Apsley, 5 miles, 12 locks

Well my prediction was about right: set off at 9:15 and stopped at the water point in Apsley just after 3pm. In order to conserve 'toilet inches' I had a cup of coffee and a banana for breakfast, but I only lasted until just after noon. Fortunately that was good enough and now I'm at Apsley I've emptied the loo and filled the water tank. I've also cleaned the filter on the water pump, because I'd noticed that it wasn't stopping as promptly as it used to. Of course, that could be an pressure thing. If I wasn't using the most basic eTrex GPS to tell me my speed, I'd know my altitude, which must be decent as this stretch of canal is basically climbing up the Chiltern Hills and the summit at Tring is 395ft above sea level.

Half of todays locks I did by myself, but from Lock 71 at Abbots Langley I was accompanied by the South Hertfordshire Narrowboat Project community narrowboat. This was full of very well behaved kids in life jackets and unbelievably relaxed grown-ups. The skipper was from Mexico and was taking the boat out for a week as a break from the rat race. Reckoned that the pace of life on the canals was roughly what he was used to back home and that he needed it to charge his batteries. Mexico sounds like my kind of place.

Jan is coming round with my new Maplin Solar Regulator. This is a gizmo that goes between Oothoon's solar panel and the batteries, and makes sure that they don't get cooked. I need one because the new inverter/charger that Sterling have sent me doesn't have a solar regulator built-in like the old one did. I have bought one of these before, but in a moment of distraction I wired the battery to it the wrong way round. It claims to have 'reverse polarity protection', but the smell of melting electronics told me otherwise. Naturally that was the last one anywhere in the UK and I've been waiting for Maplin to get them in again so I can fry^H^H^Htry again. Bet this isn't going to be simple.

Dunno where I'm going tomorrow. I've been warned not to stop in Berkhamstead, where the kids think it's funny to set boats on fire, so the next nice place is Cow Roast, which is also the start of the Chiltern summit level.  Nicholson's is telling me that it's 20 locks away and the BBC is saying that it's going to rain, so I stand no chance. On the other hand, there's the swing bridge at Winkwell to operate, so that's something to look forward to.

A better day

Harefield to Watford, 4 miles, 7 locks

Much nicer weather today and I set off feeling very positive. The first couple of locks went well, including Stocker’s Lock, which I had bad recollections about from last time. Next was a stop at Tesco in Rickmansworth. This is another one next to the canal and with lovely moorings that were all empty. It wasn’t until I wandered through the doors that I realised that I was probably shopping through habit rather than actually needing anything, so I treated myself to a couple of non-essentials, like a ready cooked Cumberland Sausage from the rotisserie, which I had for breakfast once back on board Oothoon. I also bought six bottles of Becks Green Lemon, which I’d never heard of, but which I thought might be kind of like Desperados (which it kind of is), since I had the remains of yesterday’s Taco dinner to finish off. (Desperados is lager with tequila and is one of my favourite drinks, surpassed only by Desperados Mas, which is Desperados with built-in lime juice!)

I’d meant to empty the loo at Batchworth lock, but it’s a bit manic as there are actually two locks--one for the canal and another for the River Chess. Worse than that, there were loads of boats around, including trip boats, and there was nowhere to park. But the real problem was that no-one seemed to know where the Elsan disposal was. Next on my agenda was taking on water at Cassio Bridge lock, but there was a queue and once again too many boats and nowhere to park. Next chance to do both is at Apsley locks, but they’re 5 miles and 12 locks away (or about 6 hours in the old money). I’m thinking I might need to start to use my 2nd loo cassette, which I bought specifically for situations like this, but it’s all pristine, clean and virginal at the moment and it seems a shame to mucky it up.

Saw Growltiger just after Iron Bridge lock and noticed that Citizen Matt has a For Sale sign in the window. I stopped in the middle of the canal and asked him about it. Seems that he’s fallen for another boat, so Growltiger would have to go, but he seemed a bit half-hearted about it, which is unsurprising after living on her for 11 years. We chatted a bit and he gave me some hints about places I should not pass through without stopping (Stoke Bruerne and Braunston) and we discussed the Foxton flight that I’m looking forward to doing. Bosun and his sister were both nearby, clearly on Important Dog Business, and it just felt the most natural thing in the world to be miles away from anywhere, leaning on my tiller in the middle of the canal, gossiping with aquaintances.

Tomorrow should be a big day because I’ll finally break free of the tyranny of the M25. Actually it’ll make no difference whatsoever to the journey, but in my head I’ll have left London and that’s quite significant. Of course the cheats way is to go down the Slough Arm which is crossed by the M25 about halfway along, or nicer still to go up the River Lee, but after working in St Albans for over 18 years and having lived in West London for 15 of them, the M25’s north-west quadrant is ‘my’ M25 and the massive M25 viaduct north of Abbots Langley is the canal gateway to the world.

Rain stopped play

North of Copper Mill lock at Harefield, 0 miles, 0 locks

It was sunny when I woke up today and I had high hopes for getting to King's Langley, but as I was fitting the new grilles over my cat flap it started raining and shows no signs of stopping. It's quite depressing and brings back horrible memories of the 'day of rain' that flooded the Thames last year and kept me stuck in the middle of nowhere in the middle of Oxford for four weeks.

To keep myself cheerful I've done some housework. I've copied all of my movies off my iMac onto the 'movies' drive and put the iMac in a cupboard out of the way. I've polished my ornaments and knick-knacks (not that there are many of them) and even polished the wooden narrowboat that I bought to show Fred at St Pancras Dry Dock what colour I wanted Oothoon painting, Xmas before last.

Round about this time, there was a knock on the hull. Fearing the worst, I opened the front door and there was a smiling Irish woman who was dressed for the summer, sheltering under an umbrella. "I'm lost," she said, "I've come from Uxbridge and I'm trying to get to Rickmansworth." "It's about another two or so miles thataway," I said, pointing upstream. "Ah, thanks. I didn't realise it would be so far or that the weather would be so bad." There was then a brief Q&A about living on a narrowboat, culminating in a question about whether one needed to be "practical" and would it be safe for a single female? Thinking about my neighbours Sandra and Kirsty, I opined that it seemed safe enough and that vandals don't really care what you are when they're attacking. With that she gave a cheery wave and continued on her way.

My friend Paul in Hull has what he refers to as a "scumbalina" tea, from time to time, and I think I'm going to have a scumbalina food day. I've already eaten the tin of Spaghetti Bolognese that Jan and I bought a few weeks ago on the trial run trip (surprisingly good with a bit of parmesan and some freshly milled black pepper) and I'm now eyeing the box of Vesta Chow Mein that Paul brought from Hull when he was down last week. We'd been reminiscing about Vesta meals on and off, and he mentioned that ASDA still sell them, so he brought down the Chow Mein (mainly because I wanted to try the crispy noodles again, which I was convinced were a Vesta invention that had nothing at all to do with Chinese food) and the Paella, which is Paul's favourite. Actually the Paella was surprisingly good--rather like Batchelors Golden Savoury Rice, but with an unfeasably large number of little prawns  and too much salt. I'm expecting to still hate the Chow Mein, so I might hold off having it until I'm truly miserable, in lieu of visiting the Marble Arch McDonald's at midnight. Might have tacos instead.

You'd think the sky would be bored with raining by now, especially as it keeps looking like it'll brighten up any minute, but apparently not.

Cruisin'

Bulls Bridge to Harefield, 9.5 miles, 6 locks

Although today didn't look promising, it actually got off to a good start thanks to Tesco and their fat-knacker breakfast of champions (8 items and coffee for under £4!) It then got better because the engine started with no bother and I was soon underway. First up was passing the end of the Slough Arm of the Grand Union that I'd gone down a few weeks previously, and that meant that the first lock in ages was coming up. 

Cowley lock is, in many ways, a gentle reintroduction to what locks are all about. It's not very deep, there's room to park, and a nice man on a little boat called Slow Motion came through it with me, making it a doddle. Afterwards he was off to bridge 180, but I had to stop at Uxbridge Boat Centre to buy gas and grilles (the kind you cover holes left by deceased catflaps with). Of course I didn't stop there, adding to the inventory with a new 12ft boat pole, numerous screws, some connectors for the solar regulator that I'm hotly anticipating, and some 400A fuses, since the 250A fuse I bought for the new inverter turned out to be too weedy once I'd realised that they'd sent me a 2100W unit.

Next lock was Uxbridge, which is awkward because it's immediately after a bridge. Unbeknownst to me, another boat (Lioness) had pulled up behind Oothoon and two of the three crew (all beautiful young women--if you've ever seen any of the Derek Flint films you'll get the idea) offered to do the lock for me. And so it went on, lock after lock, until we reached Copper Mill lock and the Coy Carp pub (previously "The Fisheries"). At that point the sun came out and I decided that an hour or so in the beer garden, reading a book (Narrow Dog To Indian River) over a pint of something real and ale-y was just the ticket. The Lioness ladies had had the same idea, but there was nowhere to moor, so we ended up going through the lock and past a lot of houses until there was a suitable bend. I say suitable. That's only if you ignore the nettles, thorny thingamajigs and burr-covered whatchamacallits.

I learned a great lesson during mooring: never be afraid to ask for help, because both parties benefit. I got the back tied down easily, but the front was more problematic because of the foliage. I got the peg that I was going to tie on to nicely secured, but in the time I fought my way onto the prow to get the rope, the prow moved too far from the bank for me to jump (or not--I couldn't really tell where the bank ended, which was the problem). At this point a woman and two men passed and I put on my most charming manner and asked whether they would do me a favour and pass the rope through the loop in the peg and throw it back to me. The woman inspected the peg and declared it a "man's job" and the first man (who looked like the husband) agreed, but the second man fed the rope through the look and threw it back to me, so I could pull the boat in. I could see from his expression that he was happy to have helped and I realised that the "Happiness Manifesto" tenet, that one should do an extra good turn for someone each day, doesn't have to be something you think of; it can be offered to you.

A quick whizz along the towpath on the Brompton and I was down the pub in the garden. I'd just got comfortable when who should arrive but the Lioness ladies with a jug of Pimms. I'd said that I'd get them a drink for doing all the locks but I'd clearly missed my chance, so they graciously allowed me to get them a second jug after the first was empty. That turned into a third, but not before the man from Slow Motion arrived, waved and sat down at a nearby table, and then Jan and Ruth turned up. Quite a night really.

Bulls Bridge Tesco

Paddington to Bulls Bridge, 12.5 miles, 0 locks

A quiet day today. Set off at 10 and tootled through the long pound at a stately three miles per hour (according to the GPS). Stopped at the Alperton Sainsbury's for a cup of tea and elevenses (on board, not in Sainsbury's) then started on the long bit that wends through the industrial back of Greenford (where young kids threw lager cans onto the boat as I went under a bridge), Southall, and eventually ends up outside Hayes at Bulls Bridge.

Bulls Bridge is the junction between the Paddington arm of the Grand Union Canal and the Main Branch. There's a retail complex there, with a huge Tesco Extra having the canalside location. I was forced to moor right at the end of Tesco's land, away from the main moorings, which were full of badly parked boats and fishermen. I know that poorly parked cars infuriate me, especially when the excuse from the driver is that "They don't want to be blocked in" (translation: not only can't I park properly but I can't get out if someone gets too close), but badly parking a boat is just antisocial. Having a boat's length of mooring taken up with fishermen isn't great either, but I could never have got into the gap because of the bad parking.

I was feeling tired by this time, but I wandered around Tesco in search of provisions. Being a Tesco Extra, it's huge and they have even more of everything than a normal Tesco, so choice paralysis sets in almost immediately and makes the entire shopping journey drag. I didn't have a definite shopping list in mind either, except I wanted fresh Mayonnaise and paprika in order to make Rouille to go with the fish soup I was having in the evening (turned out I'd bought some in France when I bought the soup, so neither was needed).

One joyful discovery was that Tesco sell triple-ply toilet tissue. I've been buying this in France because it's wonderfully strong and you therefore use less of it (like, you don't need to fold together three sheets in an attempt to make a single robust sheet, only to find that adding more sheets doesn't make it stronger). I'd bought a load of Co-op own-brand tissue, which seems better than most, but it's still not as good as the French stuff, so I'm hopeful that this will perform as well.

Jan came round for dinner. I'd made the fish soup according to Delia's Cheat recipe, with ASDA jumbo crab and John West dressed Lobster, but used the croutons that came with the soup and my déjà-purchased Rouille. It was delicious! After it had settled, we had fettuccine with pesto and freshly pan-fried prawns (only 1% fat before they go in the hot olive oil!)

Looks like I've left the inverter on by mistake, as the lights are on the dim side. Hope that the engine battery isolator works and that the engine starts tomorrow, or I'm in the clag!

It begins!

King's Cross to Paddington, 3.5 miles, 4 locks

Finally set off! After a couple of days of completely rubbish weather, it was finally fine enough for me to think I should make a start. Set off about 1:30 and had a leisurely trip to Paddington, where Oothoon is moored for the night.

The forecast for tomorrow is heavy rain, so I might not get much further for a day or two (talk about being a fair-weather boater!) but that's not the point. The adventure has begun and even Paddington is exotic compared with King's Cross.