Western Daily Press
Monday, April 5, 2004

On the Worcester and Birmingham Canal

By David Edier

The Edier family were on a narrow boat holiday just south of Birmingham. We left with snow on the ground and Spring just a distant hope but I can honestly say we had one of the best, most relaxing holidays we've ever had (we obviously don't go out much!).
       We picked up Brenda, a 69 foot Duchess class narrowboat from the Black Prince boatyard at Stoke Prior. The season had only just begun so we were virtually the only ones on the canal, a bonus when for most of the time the canal didn't seem wide enough for two boats to pass.

      Brenda was well furnished with all mod-cons, central heating (essential for early March) two flushing toilets, six berths including a double fully made up, and a well-equipped kitchen. After a brief instruction from the helpful boatyard staff on how to handle Brenda— like all women, gently and don't push her too far—we were on our way.
      Travel is all about great journeys across the world, from Marco Polo to Phileas Fogg. But in our week we pottered down the Worcester and Birmingham and nearly got to Worcester, turned round (which is easier said than done in a 69 foot boat), and nearly got to Birmingham. The point about a canal holiday is you just potter: your maximum speed is 4mph, so it offers a welcome break from increasingly desk-bound and stressed-out lives.
        That is not to say there weren't moments of great stress, for example when our aged hound managed to fall in at a lock and threatened to be squashed between a large boat and an immovable lock wall, but they are few and far between (the dog is fine, by the way).     

     Your horizons do narrow, however, back to eighteenth century ones and therein lies the attraction. There's an immense amount of satisfaction to be had from going under the motorway at rush hour in a boat, seeing all the cars stacked up while you can chug away, your only deadline being the opening time of one of the innumerable canal-side pubs. The Worcester and Birmingham canal was built at the height of canal-mania between 1794 and 1815 and in its 31-mile length has five tunnels and 58 locks. One of its main users was Cadbury's, who transported milk and chocolate crumb back and forth between its Birmingham and Worcester factories. The barges were pulled by pairs of donkeys all the way which was fine unless the donkeys didn't get on well together.
         Sadly trade died out by the 1950s but, thanks to the resurgence of interest in all things watery the canal probably sees more traffic now than in its heyday A staggering 5,000 boats use the stretch every year. The Worcestershire landscape the canal goes through is predominately pastoral, essentially English and eminently relaxing. On the journey north, back toward Birmingham, we encountered Britain's longest flight of locks. Despite Brenda's crew ranging in age from five to 75 we took them (slowly) in our stride. The children love doing the locks and, with today's worries about our inactive couch potato youth, perhaps GPs ought to pre- scribe canal holidays on the NHS.
       At the top of the 30 locks is the village that gives the flight its name— Tardebigge, a settlement that got its raison d'être from the canal boom. Perfectly preserved as a microcosm of eighteenth century life are a series of dwellings: Entrance Cottage, where the weighbridge clerk lived; Tug Row, built for the tunnel tug drivers; and finally the imposing Canal Inspector's House, built for the boss and of course the largest house by miles.
          There were times when I wished I was a normal person and had just flown off to Tenerife for some winter sun, but then I would have missed a particularly mad March moment. Standing by the tiller with the rest of the crew snug inside,

 threatening to flodd my fashionable weather gear. We entered a short tunnel and miracle of miracles it was beautiful Spring sunshine the other end. Magical.