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East Anglia Daily Times |
 Tales from the Riverbank Parrots are not the first thing I expected to see in the industrial sprawl on the outskirts of London, but a dozen or so squawked in the trees and flew overhead as we pootled past them on our narrowboat adventure on the Grand Union Canal. I later found out that they were ring-necked parakeets, the UK’s only naturalised parrot, and there is a large population of them living in parks and open spaces around the capital but this was the first time I had seen any living wild – let alone in this country. What a great way to start our adventure! We had arrived at the Packet Boat Marina, near Cowley, and after a video on the rules of the waterways and a guided tour of our vessel our party of four adults was set free to pilot the boat on a long leisurely weekend of wildlife watching. Apparently the end of March was a good time to be navigating the canals as they are relatively free from traffic and there is a very good chance of spotting kingfishers and other wildfowl. Handling the boat did not take long to master but our skills had to be honed fairly quickly as it was not far from the marina when we encountered what none of us had been relishing – our first of many locks. Moving the tiller left steered the boat right and vice versa, but this all goes to pot under pressure of manoeuvring into the confined space of the lock chamber. Thank goodness the solid steel hull was sturdy enough to take a bit of a battering. Most of Britain’s canals and locks were built only 7ft wide and 70ft long so narrowboats were designed to these dimensions to navigate along them. Later many were widened to 14ft to allow narrowboats travelling in opposite directions to pass. The boats were originally pulled, or towed, by horses giving rise to the towpaths that follow the waterways. Today they are powered by quiet smooth-running diesel engines which also provide heating, hot water and charge the batteries to provide electricity. The film had shown us how to open and close the paddles in the lock gates by winding them up or down with the windlass to fill or empty the chamber depending on whether you needed to go up or down. We coped with our first ascent very well but experience was the only way to truly master the locks. Attempting to push the gates open while the water is still swirling in eddies is not recommended – unless you are King Canute – as no matter how much you put your back into it they will not budge until the water is at equilibrium and calm. All this extra effort can leave you breathless before you have really travelled anywhere. The key is just to relax and take your time. Our plan was to complete a return trip to Rickmansworth, which we were assured was easily manageable in the three days we had. We planned a weekend of relaxation and unwinding, gliding along at walking pace in the tranquillity of the countryside around us. We hoped the weather would be good so we could lounge on the roof in the sun drinking gin and tonics by day and playing cards in the moonlight when night descended. A few years ago we hired a cruiser on the Norfolk Broads and had enjoyed the feeling of going back to an era when the pace of life was slower and people had more time to relax. It was so nice to opt out of the rat race. Drifting past nesting wildfowl and taking the opportunity to try my hand at angling all seemed idyllic. However this trip was going to be a little different. For a start the rods stayed in the car as I realised it was the closed season and although this does not apply to canals I didn’t want to disturb breeding fish – though many others did not share this view. On board, the boat offered all the modern home comforts including an oven, microwave, central heating, shower, fully-equipped kitchen and TV. One room contained a double bed and we had taken the option of another, which was made from the dining room table. It was a little small and not the easiest contraption to assemble. The boat had a surprising amount of headroom and was very cosy, if a little cramped, and we all soon took to our floating hotel. We passed many other moored and moving boats and our friendly waves were reciprocated so even when it began to spit with rain our spirits were hardly dampened. By early evening industry had become countryside as we had left most of the warehouses and factories behind and arrived at our planned mooring for the night, nestling by the towpath at Harefield. This was a bit of a fluke as we planned to stop outside a pub but the light was fading fast so we pulled in next to the nearest boats. Our luck changed when we found that the Horse and Barge was closed for renovations, and we had to trek a couple of miles to the next pub. However the food and atmosphere that greeted us was excellent and although we had to walk back in the rain it didn’t sour the night. Next morning we awoke to beautiful sunshine surrounded by water and squabbling birds. We feasted on porridge and discovered that swans in particular like to gobble up our leftovers from the spoon. Setting off early to enjoy the sunshine we soon met our first lock of the day, but having already dealt with three, our routine was mastered to perfection – we felt like pros. However, today the War of the Worlds CD emerged. Having discovered the onboard CD player our friend decided we needed some dramatic musical accompaniment especially when going through locks. Apparently it went back to a childhood family boating trip where his brother introduced him to the seventies sci-fi soundtrack and for him it was synonymous with boating. But after a few strange looks and some compliments on our surreal soundtrack we began to accept it. We planned to stop for lunch at one of the many pubs en route but as the weather was so good we decided to keep moving in the hope of spotting kingfisher. We heard that there was a good chance of seeing them just before you got to Rickmansworth. We pulled up to moorings outside Tesco and nipped in to buy eggs and bacon to cook in our galley. Feeling elated in the sunshine, with a beer in one hand and a bacon butty in the other, we took great pleasure in putting a golfer off his swing with a quick blast of the angry sounding horn as we passed him on the ninth hole. You could say he was a little teed-off. We go our come-uppance when the rain started again and the locks began creeping up on us far too frequently for our liking, even in pairs on occasion. We were getting tired, cold and wet and beginning to lose the plot. We had sailed past Rickmansworth earlier that afternoon and were now beginning to regret our foolhardy decision to see just how far we could travel. Our new plan was to head for the Queen’s Head Pub at Hunton Bridge but a passerby told us it wasn’t open and we felt stranded on the other side of Watford with the unattractive options of mooring by a main road, carrying on in the hope of getting away from the traffic, or going back through the locks we had just passed to a pub which may be closed. After a little debate we opted for the latter. The man was right, the Queen’s Head was closed and we were beginning to take out our weary frustration on the map for having pubs that were closed on it. All turned out fine though as we wandered into an Indian restaurant with excellent food, even though we were still in our boating wear and felt rather underdressed. There is always somewhere good to eat near the canals. Next morning we set off early, sad that our adventure was coming to an end. By then end of our journey we would have completed 36 and our aching bodies were feeling it. The rain impeded our wildlife spotting but we had seen herons, plenty of bats, coots, moorhens, a grebe and, of course, ducks. Compared to our cruiser in Norfolk the narrowboat was much more homely, elegant, and roomy. It felt more of a journey and as if you were following traditional historic routes which made the Broads trip feel like a joyride on a play circuit in comparison. The canals offer a trip where you feel like you dip in and out of society on a journey through an older age, while in the Broads you feel like you are in the country. And there are no locks in Norfolk which proved to be both a pleasure and a pain. For me the jury is out between the two although I enjoy the pace of life of both and can’t wait to take off again. |
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