A long day

Fenny Compton to Banbury, 9 miles, 12 locks

So-so weather this morning, but at least it's dry. I'd like to get to Banbury today, which seems ambitious but it should be possible. The engine was a bit reluctant to start but got going in the end and we were off. Turns out that we'd moored just before Fenny Compton, which was good because there was no-where to moor in Fenny proper. Of course, the village itself is a good mile from the canal, so all we saw were a few industrial buildings and Fenny Marina, which is apparently closed on Mondays. This is a shame, because we are running short of kindling.

Once you're out of Fenny Compton, there's the long 'Fenny Compton Tunnel'. This isn't really a tunnel, but is a long straight narrow cutting with steep sides that is thickly wooded. There are signs saying not to moor because of land falls and tree falls, and indeed there are a couple of places where there are large floating orange markers where there's obviously been such a landfall. We passed one boat near the start, where there is quite a bit of room, which had stopped to gather blackberries from bushes on the off-side, and the next boat was about halfway down—where the bridges are—which is much narrower. I pulled over and waited to let the other boat past just in case.

Once you're out of the 'tunnel' there's a bit of wiggling goes on and then you're at Boundary Lift Bridge. These lift bridges are apparently a big feature on the Oxford, but I'd yet to encounter one. They're nice and simple: a platform with a pair of counterbalanced arms above, that can be tilted to lift the platform to allow passage. Paul jumped off the front of the boat and over the bridge, then dangled on the chain hanging from the counterbalance. After a moment, the bridge lifted in a very satisfying way and Paul sat on the end of the arm in case it decided to drop. I nipped through in the boat and after dropping the bridge, Paul rejoined me.

There's a bit more wiggling and then you're at Claydon and the flight of 5 locks. These take you up 30.5 feet (9.3m) which is quite a lot. There were a few people coming down and two boats behind us, so there was good use of water. Paul and I got into quite a rhythm, with me doing one side of the lock and jumping back aboard Oothoon before she disappeared, and him doing the other side and the gates. He'd become quite proficient at getting from one narrow gate to the other, although he said that it still scares him.

Once we'd reached the bottom, we pulled over for a while to have some lunch but it was nearly 3pm by the time we'd finished and I realised that the day was slipping away if we were to get to Banbury. It wasn't essential, but the only other choice was Cropredy, so we thought we'd see how we were doing when we got there. Fortunately the going was fairly easy, even though the locks were always set against us and we averaged 15 minutes per lock. When we arrived at Cropredy, we stopped for a moment to visit the travelling supplies boat 'Gilbert', mainly because I wanted to see the amazing 'gull wing' doors and it turned out that this was a fortuitous stop because we were able to buy kindling. 

Cropredy was quite busy up to the lock, but we figured that there'd be moorings afterwards. It was nearly 5pm when we went through the lock and we figured that it was late enough that we'd stop, however we had to find a mooring. Straight after the lock there's a couple of bridges and places for BW boats to moor, and then boats as far as you could see. We chugged past them on tickover, not able to believe how many there were. Eventually we reached the end, at Cropredy Mill Bridge, over a mile from the lock. That was the end of our staying in Cropredy.

With no choice but to get to Banbury, we pressed on. The canal at this point is fairly wide and the curves and bends tend to be gentle and kind. Further aiding our progress was the lack of moored boats, although there were a few scummy cruisers under tarpaulin. My eTrex said that sundown was at 18:20 and we just got through Hardwick lock—the last before Banbury—when the sun went down. During the summer there's normally quite a bit of grace after sundown but not now. Within about 10 minutes it was getting dark and by the time we reached Grimsbury wharf and the outskirts of town it was really dark. We stopped for a moment to light the tunnel light, then proceeded slowly. Fortunately we were close enough that all we had to do was keep going without hitting anything and we'd be fine, eventually finding a mooring just before Sovereign Wharf. There was quite reasonable lighting, because there's a park there, but even so the chap on the boat we moored in front of was kind enough to come out, ask for a rope and help moor. There were mooring rings, so it was just a matter of finding them and tying on. By 7pm we were moored and safe.

After a cuppa and a shower, we were ready to eat. I couldn't face cooking after the stress of coming in under darkness, so we  decided to walk into town and find a restaurant. Wandering round the bend we came across the 'excellent moorings' that Nicholson's describes, which are well lit and slap-bang in the middle of town next to the shopping precinct. There's 24 hour CCTV surveillance too, which is reassuring, but I wasn't going to move the boat. As the shopping centre was closed, we walked around the long way and eventually found the Old Reindeer Inn, which dates from 1570 apparently, but booze wasn't the priority and through the power of Google Maps we found that the street the Reindeer Inn is on has loads of restaurants. In the end we chose a Thai place that seemed quite nice. Service was a bit slow, although there was only the one waiter and he insisted on bringing everything out of the kitchen and putting it on a little trolley before bringing it to you and putting it on the table. He even did it with our drinks order and given that we were on the table closest to the bar this seemed like a lot of work. I ordered Tempura vegetables as a starter and the prawn Massaman curry with coconut rice that I'd had with Cliff last time I was in Battlebridge Basin. Paul ordered Paper Prawns and a spicy beancurd thing, again with coconut rice. My Tempura was great, but Paul's prawns weren't properly cooked and some of the prawn was still blue and raw. This wasn't a good sign for me, asking for prawns. Fortunately the main courses were properly cooked and tasty. We were full, so paid the bill and left, and only afterwards realised that we'd forgotten to complain about the uncooked prawns.

We popped over the road to the Dog and Gun. This reminded us of something we'd seen on Sunday, where there were four fellas wandering around in a field with rifles. We weren't sure what they were up to until after I'd been down the weed hatch, by which time they'd managed to shoot a rabbit (or was it a hare?) I was quite disturbed by it all anyway, but the most worrying thing was that only one of the men carried his rifle broken. I don't know whether the others didn't have ammunition in their guns and therefore there wasn't anything to worry about, but it doesn't surprise me that gun-related accidents happen. The Dog and Gun is obviously a 'happening' place at the weekend, so I'm glad we were there midweek, but less glad that they'd run out of dark rum and that their cola is Pepsi. I know I sound like a moany old soul a lot of the time, but I was disappointed that when I suggested Bacardi instead, the barmaid seemed surprised that this was also rum.

Back home safely thanks to the everlasting torch. We'd bought some drink to take home with us, so we sat up drinking and chatting for a bit, which was a very nice way to finish the day.