the boat was drifting towards the centre of the canal.

"Help! Katie, do some thing! Quick - slam it ir  reverse," I shouted.

I managed to shift my weight in the direction of the boat and get two feet aboard.

Ten minutes into  our holiday, my girlfriend Katie had realised this wasn't going to be the romantic break she'd banked on when I said I'd  booked three days on a boat on the Birmingham and Worcester Canal.

We'd been in charge of the boat for mere moments and our aim of completing the journey to Worcester and  back in three days was looking wildly optimistic.

The Black Prince Holidays canal boat base at Stoke Prior, just outside Bromsgrove, Worcestershire, was still in view. If we'd known how to turn the boat round,  I'm  sure we would have.

Faced with the possibility of spending three days jammed against a muddy canal bank, we decided to persevere and stop shouting at each other - for the time  being, anyway.

We were surprised by how much hard work was involved in a canal holiday.

Prior to departure, I'd  had a vision in my head of me standing grandly at the back of the boat, taking  in the  countryside as we cruised merrily  along.

I hadn't considered the technical aspects, such as using the  acceleration correctly, cleaning the  tiller, steering one way in order to  go  the other, and dealing  with locks.

We spent most of the time getting in  and out of the boat to pass through locks or push the boat away from the  edge of the canal.

Due to Katie being utterly petrified of steering the 58ft-long vessel, she was left with the task of winding up the  paddle gears and opening the lock gates while I steered into position.

Running around a lock with a greasy windlass probably wasn't very high on her list of romantic fantasies.

However, as time wore on  it was clear the friendly interaction between fellow boaters and landlubbers was going on all over the canal. We eventually managed to master the basics of driving the canal boat and on the second day settled into the routine of me driving the boat while Katie did just about  everything else. Bliss.

This gave me the opportunity to sit back, relax and  take in the fantastic  countryside as we cruised along at four miles an hour.

Certain stretches of  the canal looked as if they had decided not to join in with the past 150-odd years.

The irony is that these waterways were originally constructed by merchants   and industrialists keen to expand their businesses during the industrial revolution.

The capitalists used the  canals as short-cuts to transport raw materials between factories in different cities.

For all the smog, grease and greed associated with those times, they have left Britain with a beautiful legacy that provides a home for countless species of wildlife.

The grubby reminders of the industrial  past were also visible as the landscape  subtly blurred from quaint lock- keepers' cottages and rural  tranquility to gritty warehouses and concrete  bridges.

There's probably no better way to see these changes than by canal boating.

 It takes you far away from the motorways and A-roads that by-pass so much of our country and lead us to think our land is made up of Travel-odges, Little Chefs and  faceless retail parks.

The boat provided a real home from home, complete with  TV, CD player, flushable toilet, central heating  and well-equipped kitchen.

It was also surprisingly spacious inside, with a living room area, dining table, well-equipped kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom.

The space proved essential when our "teamwork" was suffering and mutiny was  looking likely.

We arrived back at Stoke Prior with plenty to laugh about, and felt we could hold our own on the waterways.

Despite this, Katie has since requested that I leave her in charge of  booking our  next holiday.