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I HAVE NEVER BEEN PARTICULARLY FOND OF BOATS, going green on a sailing day off the Isle of Wight and having had my share of channel crossings that have left me vowing to traipse all the way to the tunnel rather than spending hours nursing a sick bag, but canal boating, I have decided, is definitely the acceptable side of boating that I could rather make a habit of.
Rather than risking a whole week on the water, I cautiously booked myself a weekend with Drifters, who have canal boats across the UK, taking in great British waterways the length and breadth of the country.
And there is nothing basic about these boats either. My five-star boat, Thrush, a comfortable six-berther had all the luxury of a reasonable hotel. The double and single beds were covered in crisp linen, there were toiletries and mountains of soft towels in the bathroom, a starter pack of coffee and tea-making bits and pieces, a plate of home-made biscuits and even a vase of fresh flowers. There was TV and radio aboard, a kitchen stocked with utensils as well as just about everything you could think of for a weekend's boating, even down to raincoats, a torch and a first aid kit.
And this wasn't even one of the top boats in the fleet. Some of the others boasted as many as 12 berths, CD and DVD players, microwaves and even coffee machines. It made the humble sailing yacht seem rather second-rate in comparison.
We began our cruise from Alvechurch in the Midlands, not the most glamorous of places you might argue, but the boatyard was set just beyond a sweet little village where we stocked up on food and drink before wandering along the canal bank to admire canal boats old and new, their traditionally-painted woodwork and polished brass gleaming in the sun.
The boatyard team were first-rate and spent time showing us the ropes, how to handle our boat and most importantly of all, how to tie her up when we stopped. By the time our man had cruised us down a stretch of the canal to talk us through manoeuvring, we were itching to have a go.
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And as soon as he jumped off and waved us goodbye, we found ourselves floating at gentle pace through scenic British countryside, with only the sound of the ducks and passing boats to disturb us. Canal cruising is quite unlike anything else, with restricted speed on the water, and as a result it forces you to relax and unwind. Floating gently past water-side pubs and pumping stations, food stores and passing cyclists, fishermen and dog walkers,
it was rather like stepping back in time to the genteel days of simple pleasures. We fed the ducks as we floated along, consulted our map as to where to stop for the night and enjoyed an early afternoon glass of wine, agreeing that often the simplest things in life turn out to be the most enjoyable.
Whether it was the wine, or a lack of consistent control that made us steer a little too over-enthusiastically on a few occasions, we weren't entirely sure as a rather unwise maneuver saw us crash into
a bank-side tree trunk, much to the amusement of some passing dog walkers.
Thankfully our large crash didn't seem to do the boat any harm at all, and once we had pushed ourselves out of the branches we set off once more. But by the end of the first day we had rather a lot of foliage draped across our stern...
Mooring up for the night, we decided to toast our new found skills and stopped at a canal-side pub before heading off for an Indian. There are plenty of pubs along the canals, many of which have served
passing trade for years and as well as providing hearty meals, they are also perfect for mooring alongside.
We had not had the sense to do that mind you, so by the time we came out of the Indian restaurant it was pitch black and none of us could quite remember where on the canal bank we had left the boat.
By the time we found it, having traipsed a good mile or so in both directions before realizing it was almost where we had started out from, we were more than ready to snuggle down for the night, and with nifty dividers slotted into place, the large cabin space of the boat was effortlessly transformed into private sleeping areas.
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The fresh air knocked us out completely and woken the next morning by quacking ducks, we started our day with bacon sandwiches served right on the water's edge and decided to head for Cadbury World at Bourneville.
It was cloudy that day but despite the less than perfect weather passing through long stretches of dark tunnels with the waterway lit up by lamp-light was great fun. In days gone by men walked the boat down tunnels lying on their backs, while their horses walked above ground, but today thanks to motorized engines, the whole operation takes far less time and effort and the tremendous echo of the tunnel had us all singing at the tops of our voices like a bunch of overexcited children.
Locks are thankfully relatively few on this stretch of waterway compared with some of the others, but when we did come across them they were equally fun to work through, with heavy lock keys opening the doors before closing
them behind us and the water then gushing in or out to bring the boat up
or down to the next stretch of river.
Cadbury World in all its chocolate glory was well worth the trip and with bags full of chocolate from the shop and an interesting day learning ahout the history and production of the brown stuff, we looked forward to our roast dinner afloat all the more.
Meandering slowly back to Alvechurch the next day we were rather disappointed that our short stay was coming to an end. Our two nights afloat had seemed a lot, lot longer and we felt relaxed and rejuvenated despite the fact that we had spent our weekend jumping on and off the boat, walking the banks and getting more fresh air than we had had for a long time.
As Toad so wisely said in Wind In The Willows, "There is nothing - absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about in a boat.'
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