Ok – so it’s been a while. My excuse, such as it is, is that I have been on holiday. Yes – we are actually allowed to have some time off, occasionally! So – just to keep you up to date – we are now tied up ready to do a show at the Tom o’ Wood, back on the Grand Union. We came back to the boat at Cropredy, where Mike had dropped her off the week before (having removed anything that he deemed out of date. Including a load of spices which were in RECYCLED jars. Honestly… (I know he reads this – so I’m just teasing…) But the boat was immaculate, and several things that had been meaning to be mended for ages were, at last. And we had some nice flowers!). Of course, the floods were just beginning – and our proposed venue had been under water just before we arrived, as I discovered when I finally managed to turn my phone back on after a week in the woods. Fortunately, Auntie Shirl had managed to book the village hall as a precaution – and we were very grateful to have an indoor venue. After the difficulties involved in getting four cast members and a van together after a week off, with the transport system on its knees, the last thing we wanted was to have to cancel our first show.
But by the time we got to the Wharf in Fenny Compton, the weather was starting to show signs that almost suggested improvement. In other words, we actually managed to do a show outside without getting drenched. Another bonus was that they fed us – which was very kind indeed!
The next day was a bit grimmer. But it started well: going across the summit of the Oxford is one of the best ways to start any day – and at wasn’t actually raining when I set off. So I was in high spirits. But seven and a half hours boating through rain that was almost solid, with just enough sunny spells to let you start to dry out and remember what dry feet might feel like – and a wind that seemed to be competing with it for attention starts to get a little wearing. However, the excitement of getting stuck in the second to last lock at Napton added a little something. Actually it was rather exciting in the end. When we got stuck, I had a look at the situation, and given that we appeared to have clear air down both sides of the lock, I figured we were actually caught on something on the bottom. I tried flushing us through with one of the top paddles – and we had plenty of movement up and down, but nothing forward. Or indeed backward, as we were now jammed just to far out of the lock to shut the gates and try to fill it up and drain it again to get rid of whatever was there. We tried ropes. We tried just about everything that I could think of. And then the men in blue sweatshirts turned up. Apparently the lock has a slight curve to the sides under the water line. We were sitting on that – and they knew just what to do. They opened the paddles of the lock above to flood the pound above us – and then with people on the bow rope – and me on the tiller with the engine hammering away, they whacked open both top paddles on our lock. And Tyseley shot out like a cork from a bottle. And we did manage to stop before meeting the next lock! I enjoyed myself, at least…
But the Boat at Birdingbury Wharf is well worth the trouble, and there was the prospect of more food there too – so we ploughed on! When we arrived, it was still looking bleak. So we decided to go inside, where we would at least be warm, if slightly cramped. But with a shift of the tables, the space transformed itself into something that really resembled a fringe venue. And we had a cracking evening. The place was rammed – we completely took over the entire pub, but the landpeople were pleased – Almost everyone there was there to see us, and they ate and drank just as you would expect any self respecting Mikron audience to do. So the evening was exactly what it should be – a mutually beneficial collaboration between us and the pub. I think the audience picked up on the supportive atmosphere – they certainly seemed to enjoy themselves. Of course – the weather cleared. Sod’s law, I guess…
And even better – we were brought a very kind bag of supplies to keep us going through the dearth of supermarkets. People are incredibly kind to us. And we really appreciate it! Even kinder was the offer to do some washing – something that is well beyond the call of duty! Thanks Mandy!
The next day was a day off – yes I know, it wasn’t long since our holiday, but I think that there is a slight gap in the available venues around there. If anyone has any ideas….
Actually – it turned into a moving day, in reality, because we had to get the boat up to the top of the Hatton flight. Ruth and Adrian were staying on the boat anyway, so we had plenty of hands available – for another wet day of boating. But we stopped off in Leamington Spa – dried off and set off to sample the nightlife. Well, have dinner, at any rate. And then played pool and set the world to rights whilst listening to the worst comedy club in the world through a curtain. We only knew it was a comedy club because it said so on the door. We didn’t hear a single laugh…
And the next day took us up Hatton – which I enjoy, even if it is hard work. It was particularly fun this time, as Anna was away for her day off, and Adrian had to cycle into town to meet his son, who was coming aboard for a visit. And was supposed to be arriving as we set off, but had failed to get out of bed…
So Ruth and I had to start us up the flight. And once we worked out a decent system, we made fairly light work of it. And it is fun; stepping off the back counter with the boat still moving forward, but the engine in reverse, to close the gates – and hoping that you have judged it right and she will come back to you to allow you to get back on again! It was much easier, though, when Adrian and Matthew turned up – and we also gathered another boat as we caught them up – and two are faster than one. So we weren’t too knackered when we got to the top. Actually – we never made it quite that far, because the Waterman pub is not accessible from the top. Fortunately, I realised this as we were passing the BW workshops. Unfortunately, there did not seem to be much access there either. SO a quick call to the lovely people that own the dry dock there, and we were trying to manoeuvre ourselves in. Which was difficult, as there was an enormous amount of silt – as well as what appeared to be concrete blocks (which I imagine is what the boats that are dry docked sit on?) in the way. And with the pound likely to fill and drain randomly with passing boats using the lock, I didn’t fancy getting us jammed. So we had to come back out and go in nose first.
Even though we had a mooring – the get in for the pub was up an enormous hill. Which is not easy with all our stuff. But again, it was absolutely worth the effort. Although the night turned cold – the weather held – and we had a beautiful evening in a stunning setting. The audience was great, especially for a new venue, and the show went down very well, I think. The venue seemed to be happy, too – and hopefully it will become a regular addition to our schedule.
So, off again the next afternoon for the short trip to Rowington – which was a lovely boat: the sun was out, and it started to really feel like the tour that it should be: boating in fine weather, through beautiful scenery, a good show behind you, and the prospect of a great venue ahead. However, first of all we had to get out of the dry dock, which seemed to have silted up all over again….
The worst thing was that the silt had not only silted up the canal – it had also filled up our impellor. This I realised when black smoke started to belch from the water outtake. Fortunately, a short swim and a coathanger later, we were on our way again none the worse for weat.
We arrived at the Tom o’ the Wood, and the weather was promising a fine evening. Faye, who’s garden we tie up in (or by, I suppose, really) came out to meet us with her two dogs – and introduced us to her show goats. And we settled ourselves down for a wonderful time.
Of course – just as we had finished setting up in the garden, the clouds started to gather.
By the time that we had had our dinner – and people were starting to arrive for the show, it was really and truly raining – and appeared to be set to continue for the rest of the evening. Fortunately, some of the first people to arrive were the Wurgies (I don’t know how you spell that – you know, the Waterways Recovery lot…). So we enlisted their support, and moved the show to the outside smoking area. Which was under cover.
The show was very damp – but great fun none the less, and with the help again of the Wurgies, we did one of the fastest get outs in history. Which gave us all the more time to sample the delights of the Tom, which has changed hands again – and for the better, I think. It’s less of a wine bar now.
And then back for port and cheese with the Wurgies. What a fantastic day.
The next morning I had arranged to milk the goats – and the idea of port seemed like slightly less of a sensible proposition than it had the night before. But I got up – and Ruth and I had a great time learning to milk. The things you get up to on a Mikron tour…
Come lunchtime, Adrian, Matthew and I started to take the boat up Lapworth locks – Anna and Ruth had gone off to a spa to celebrate yet another day off. Lapworth locks are fantastic – they are not to heavy, they are in a beautiful setting – and they are wonderfully bendy. So much so that you can’t get two full length boats past eachother on some of them – as we discovered last year when we had to help crowbar apart two wedged trip boats!
We moored up at the top, and walked back down to the pub for dinner – and met Rob who has come to visit for a few days. Another fine evening! And a wonderful moonlit walk back to the boat afterwards.
So, today we are making our way slowly along the very shallow Stratford – blowing all manner of bends, and narrowly missing the boat that we hit two years ago. How the memories come flooding back!
Well – since I wrote that last bit, we have removed several jumpers, yards of rope and about a dozen plastic bags from our prop, frightened some hire boaters in Wast Hills Tunnel and arrived at our mooring for the night. We were going to go on to Alvechurch – but we decided to stop for dinner at one of the most beautiful spots on the canal that I know – just by Lower Bittel Reservoir – and watch the start of the sunset. As we were struggling to get our stern in to the bank on the towpath side – someone from the private moorings asked if we wanted to stop off in an empty space there. So here we are – and after the offer of a lift to the village to restock our wine cellar, we are going to stay the night. I love this job.
Monday 30 July 2007
Wednesday 11 July 2007
Bye, Bye, Boat
This morning I said goodbye to Tyseley. Mike is moving her to Cropredy for the start of the second leg of the tour, and we are now in Camberly, at a very odd guest house, before we troop off to Fleet to do our show this evening.
But I am getting ahead of myself. We have had two very successful shows at Thrupp – excellent turnouts for both, at last. The weather the first day was a bit of a worry, and we set up in a smaller corner of the garden, in order that the audience could have some shelter. It had been raining all day, and we were not expecting there to be a great deal of interest, judging by the attendance in previous venues when the weather had been inclement. We needn’t have worried – though the audience was smaller than last year. And we definitely made the right choice not to go indoors, where we would never have fitted everyone in. Mike had come down early to see his show – and give us notes… But, fortunately, he did not have much for us to change. I wonder if he has just given up trying to get us to do it right? There followed a pleasant night aboard Tyseley with lovely people and wine.
The next day, the weather was much improved – indeed the sun was out, but it still seemed a little presumptuous to move away from the prospect of shelter – especially when the sky darkened to almost black about half an hour before we were due to start. But the evening cleared into a beautiful one, and the audience was even bigger than the night before. In fact, it was almost impossible to get everyone in – even with lots of people standing. It does, though, make for a better show, I think, to have the audience quite closely packed… there seems to be more of a sense that we are all part of one thing – and I really enjoyed the show. There followed a pleasant night aboard Tyseley with lovely people and wine. And whisky.
And I managed to get to a laundrette. Everyone is glad.
So Tyseley has gone – and we are on the road. Again. The only problem was that Mike left at 9.30 this morning, and the van needed to have its brakes fixed, and was not going to be ready ‘till 12, which left us homeless. Adrian took the van into the hospital at 8 – and after we had gone down and watered up with Mike, Anna, Ruth and I were to be found sitting by the side of the cut, reading. But the day was saved by a very kind boater who took pity on us, and plied us with tea and biscuits. And we all had a fine morning, in the end. Apart from Adrian, who was still stuck with the van. Sorry, Adrian. Anyway – the three of us were quite cheerful when the van arrived…
We had been given the most useless map in cartographical history to work with. The crowning glory if which was the Road That Does Not Exist. But we got here. And here is a ‘Guest House’ run by the Theosophical Society. Which I think is really an off duty retreat. But it has beds, and breakfasts (vegetarian), and it is home for the next couple of days. And the grounds are amazing!
But I am getting ahead of myself. We have had two very successful shows at Thrupp – excellent turnouts for both, at last. The weather the first day was a bit of a worry, and we set up in a smaller corner of the garden, in order that the audience could have some shelter. It had been raining all day, and we were not expecting there to be a great deal of interest, judging by the attendance in previous venues when the weather had been inclement. We needn’t have worried – though the audience was smaller than last year. And we definitely made the right choice not to go indoors, where we would never have fitted everyone in. Mike had come down early to see his show – and give us notes… But, fortunately, he did not have much for us to change. I wonder if he has just given up trying to get us to do it right? There followed a pleasant night aboard Tyseley with lovely people and wine.
The next day, the weather was much improved – indeed the sun was out, but it still seemed a little presumptuous to move away from the prospect of shelter – especially when the sky darkened to almost black about half an hour before we were due to start. But the evening cleared into a beautiful one, and the audience was even bigger than the night before. In fact, it was almost impossible to get everyone in – even with lots of people standing. It does, though, make for a better show, I think, to have the audience quite closely packed… there seems to be more of a sense that we are all part of one thing – and I really enjoyed the show. There followed a pleasant night aboard Tyseley with lovely people and wine. And whisky.
And I managed to get to a laundrette. Everyone is glad.
So Tyseley has gone – and we are on the road. Again. The only problem was that Mike left at 9.30 this morning, and the van needed to have its brakes fixed, and was not going to be ready ‘till 12, which left us homeless. Adrian took the van into the hospital at 8 – and after we had gone down and watered up with Mike, Anna, Ruth and I were to be found sitting by the side of the cut, reading. But the day was saved by a very kind boater who took pity on us, and plied us with tea and biscuits. And we all had a fine morning, in the end. Apart from Adrian, who was still stuck with the van. Sorry, Adrian. Anyway – the three of us were quite cheerful when the van arrived…
We had been given the most useless map in cartographical history to work with. The crowning glory if which was the Road That Does Not Exist. But we got here. And here is a ‘Guest House’ run by the Theosophical Society. Which I think is really an off duty retreat. But it has beds, and breakfasts (vegetarian), and it is home for the next couple of days. And the grounds are amazing!
Sunday 8 July 2007
So this is what summer is..
Another day off… And instead of the planned move from Long Wittenham to Eynsham, we only had to go from Isis lock to Thrupp. Which is a lovely journey. It has a few locks, and a few lift bridges – just enough to make it interesting, but not enough to make it hard work. The day started off with an attempt to start another boater’s engine – which ultimately ended in failure, as it seems that our jump leads are not very healthy. I suppose it is good to know this before we need them ourselves…
Then Ruth and I – Ruth had decided to stay for the trip – set off, armed with plenty of liquid sustenance, as the sun was finally out, and we didn’t want to get too dehydrated. The fact that our choice of liquid was largely diuretic didn’t matter.
The sun stayed out – and the trip was fantastic. This is what the summer should be about! We only had one minor adventure, as we waited for a boat to come down a lock, and waited, and waited… The water was coming out of the bottom gates, but the boat was not coming down with it. And sure enough, a quick investigation revealed all four paddles up, and the pound steadily draining above. Oh well.
So now we are tied up at Thrupp, outside the Boat. Which does excellent food, if you are interested (neither of us could be bothered cooking last night…). And the sun is still out. So I am a happy man.
Then Ruth and I – Ruth had decided to stay for the trip – set off, armed with plenty of liquid sustenance, as the sun was finally out, and we didn’t want to get too dehydrated. The fact that our choice of liquid was largely diuretic didn’t matter.
The sun stayed out – and the trip was fantastic. This is what the summer should be about! We only had one minor adventure, as we waited for a boat to come down a lock, and waited, and waited… The water was coming out of the bottom gates, but the boat was not coming down with it. And sure enough, a quick investigation revealed all four paddles up, and the pound steadily draining above. Oh well.
So now we are tied up at Thrupp, outside the Boat. Which does excellent food, if you are interested (neither of us could be bothered cooking last night…). And the sun is still out. So I am a happy man.
Friday 6 July 2007
At last...
Bablock Hythe was not under water. And the lock was not open, so we had to traipse up and across the lock with all the stuff for Married to the Job, and then make our way to the Ferryman by van. At least this year we managed to end up on the right side of the Thames. Last time, we followed the instructions given by Multimap and ended up with 70ft of water between us and the venue – and a long drive to get on the other side.
The weather was inclement, to say the least – and so we decided to go inside. And had a fine evening, with an audience that more or less filled the room that we were playing in.
The next day – and the lock was… still on red boards. So another journey to Bablock Hythe by van. At least, by now, everything was in the van, so life was much easier. Unfortunately, for some reason, everyone had come to see the show last night. Perhaps they didn’t realise that we were doing two different shows, although I did mention it several times the night before. And – before you think it – we weren’t that dreadful the night before that they would all have been put off. Whatever the reason, there were only 4 people there. I think that that is the smallest audience I have ever encountered. But they had made the effort to come – and Adrian had sold them raffle tickets. So I felt that we ought to do the show, much to the irritation of some of the others. But it is very hard to make a decision to cancel when there are people there who really want to see the show.
Anyway – we did the show. And it was really rather good fun. Honestly!
And this morning, the boards came down. Even though there didn’t seem to be much improvement in the state of the river. In fact, the only thing that seemed to have changed was that the wind had started gusting hard. But we couldn’t stay at the foot of the lock any longer, even though it would have been convenient, seeing as everything was in the van. So off we went – Tyseley steaming at full power up past the weirs, and under the low bridge at Osney. And we made it with ease. In fact, the only real problem was the wind. I suspect that we could have made it just as easily on any of the previous days too, but you have to listen to the lock keepers, after all, they know much more about the river than I do. And even though you feel a little bit daft sitting still when you could have been moving – you would feel even more daft getting into trouble when you have been warned!
The turn into the Oxford was a bit fun though, in the stream, and the wind. But what made it really interesting was that the stream seemed to slacken off just as I was expecting it to push our bows round and into the channel. Oh well!
So now we are tied up in the relative calm of the Oxford, before moving up to Thrupp tomorrow.
The weather was inclement, to say the least – and so we decided to go inside. And had a fine evening, with an audience that more or less filled the room that we were playing in.
The next day – and the lock was… still on red boards. So another journey to Bablock Hythe by van. At least, by now, everything was in the van, so life was much easier. Unfortunately, for some reason, everyone had come to see the show last night. Perhaps they didn’t realise that we were doing two different shows, although I did mention it several times the night before. And – before you think it – we weren’t that dreadful the night before that they would all have been put off. Whatever the reason, there were only 4 people there. I think that that is the smallest audience I have ever encountered. But they had made the effort to come – and Adrian had sold them raffle tickets. So I felt that we ought to do the show, much to the irritation of some of the others. But it is very hard to make a decision to cancel when there are people there who really want to see the show.
Anyway – we did the show. And it was really rather good fun. Honestly!
And this morning, the boards came down. Even though there didn’t seem to be much improvement in the state of the river. In fact, the only thing that seemed to have changed was that the wind had started gusting hard. But we couldn’t stay at the foot of the lock any longer, even though it would have been convenient, seeing as everything was in the van. So off we went – Tyseley steaming at full power up past the weirs, and under the low bridge at Osney. And we made it with ease. In fact, the only real problem was the wind. I suspect that we could have made it just as easily on any of the previous days too, but you have to listen to the lock keepers, after all, they know much more about the river than I do. And even though you feel a little bit daft sitting still when you could have been moving – you would feel even more daft getting into trouble when you have been warned!
The turn into the Oxford was a bit fun though, in the stream, and the wind. But what made it really interesting was that the stream seemed to slacken off just as I was expecting it to push our bows round and into the channel. Oh well!
So now we are tied up in the relative calm of the Oxford, before moving up to Thrupp tomorrow.
Tuesday 3 July 2007
Still stuck
Ummm… I suppose that the good news is that we managed to do the show. In fact, I think it was a rather good evening. But…
Tyseley is still tied up below Osney lock. The lock keeper was adamant that it was not sensible to go through. Even though a couple of boats have passed us – but the only one of them that was a narrowboat didn’t get far. As far as I am concerned at the moment, the lock keepers know more about the river than I do (I have only done this stretch twice before), and if they say stay, then I will. But it is very frustrating.
Anyway – we decided at about lunch time that there was no way that they were going to take the red boards down today, so Adrian set off to Woolhampton to fetch the van. 4 hours of negotiating the ridiculous public transport system later, he came back. In the mean time, we had been witness to the drama of another narrowboat being swept downstream, and returning rather shaken, and without much interior fittings unbroken, under the supervision of a pilot. Perhaps we made the right decision to stay put.
We enlisted the help of a very helpful (and bored) neighbouring boater and loaded up the van. Which we couldn’t get anywhere near the boat, of course – it was one of those days. And then we set off for Woolvercote Green. And the most amazing storm was set loose. Hailstones and all.
Of course, by the time that we had arrived at the Plough, the storm had passed, and it was all looking very beautiful, except that the field that we usually perform in was now a bit of a quagmire. And after much umming and ahhing, we decided to go inside, in the room that they called the Library. It is a great room, with a wall of bookshelves, and a fantastic atmosphere. We knew that we were never going to match the 100 plus that we had had last year, given the precipitation, but we had to keep our fingers crossed that there were going to be enough seats.
In the end, there were almost exactly the right number of seats for the audience – and it did indeed chuck it down again as we started, so the right decision was made. And the show was great fun. Even if the group of American students did decide to leave just as we were finishing. I was a little rude about that in my speech, but then had to eat my words as it turned out that they did, in fact, all pay – through their tutor. So if any of you are reading this, then I am sorry for poking fun at you!
So, now we are waiting to see what tomorrow will bring. I don’t hold out much hope that the lock will be open, and I can only hope that Bablock Hythe will not be under water. Let’s just see, eh?
Tyseley is still tied up below Osney lock. The lock keeper was adamant that it was not sensible to go through. Even though a couple of boats have passed us – but the only one of them that was a narrowboat didn’t get far. As far as I am concerned at the moment, the lock keepers know more about the river than I do (I have only done this stretch twice before), and if they say stay, then I will. But it is very frustrating.
Anyway – we decided at about lunch time that there was no way that they were going to take the red boards down today, so Adrian set off to Woolhampton to fetch the van. 4 hours of negotiating the ridiculous public transport system later, he came back. In the mean time, we had been witness to the drama of another narrowboat being swept downstream, and returning rather shaken, and without much interior fittings unbroken, under the supervision of a pilot. Perhaps we made the right decision to stay put.
We enlisted the help of a very helpful (and bored) neighbouring boater and loaded up the van. Which we couldn’t get anywhere near the boat, of course – it was one of those days. And then we set off for Woolvercote Green. And the most amazing storm was set loose. Hailstones and all.
Of course, by the time that we had arrived at the Plough, the storm had passed, and it was all looking very beautiful, except that the field that we usually perform in was now a bit of a quagmire. And after much umming and ahhing, we decided to go inside, in the room that they called the Library. It is a great room, with a wall of bookshelves, and a fantastic atmosphere. We knew that we were never going to match the 100 plus that we had had last year, given the precipitation, but we had to keep our fingers crossed that there were going to be enough seats.
In the end, there were almost exactly the right number of seats for the audience – and it did indeed chuck it down again as we started, so the right decision was made. And the show was great fun. Even if the group of American students did decide to leave just as we were finishing. I was a little rude about that in my speech, but then had to eat my words as it turned out that they did, in fact, all pay – through their tutor. So if any of you are reading this, then I am sorry for poking fun at you!
So, now we are waiting to see what tomorrow will bring. I don’t hold out much hope that the lock will be open, and I can only hope that Bablock Hythe will not be under water. Let’s just see, eh?
Monday 2 July 2007
Fingers Crossed
Which brings us to today. And what a day we have just had. The theory was that we would travel from Goring to somewhere around Abingdon, stop for the night, and then continue on up to Wolvercote Green tomorrow. That is what we have done in years past. Unfortunately, all the water that has been falling from the skies has found its way into the Thames, and the flow is ridiculous. All day we had been hearing that various locks were on red boards – the signal that passage is not advisable. Of course, they can’t stop you from going through, but my take on it is that they know more about these things than I do, so if they say ‘stay put,’ then I will. I am happy to brave the amber warnings, but not the red ones…
Anyway – as things were constantly changing, I reckoned it would be a good idea just to get as far as we could today, until we met something that made us stop – so we kept battling our way upstream, occasionally passing red warning boards for the downstream sections. This is not a problem just now – but it might be when we come back down to do Long Whittenham. We’ll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it.
For the most part, the journey was not too bad. It makes you appreciate just what a good boat we have in Tyseley when you are ploughing past modern builds who are obviously struggling to make any headway against the stream. I am not sure whether they are under powered, or under propped. Whatever the case, they are going nowhere, whilst we can make pretty good time as long as the channel is not too narrow. The last stretch through the beginnings of Oxford was a bit of a nightmare, though. Not only are you sharing the water with a small flotilla of rowing boats, but the river gets narrow and windy. At points, even though the throttle was opened right out, we were only making about 2mph ground speed, and I wrenched all the muscles in my right arm trying to fight our way around the last few bends before Osney Lock. Which is where we are now tied up, along with several other narrow boats, waiting to find out it the red boards will come down tomorrow. Otherwise it looks like we will have to find a way of getting hold of the van. I do hope it won’t come to that! We have also had a phone call from Bablock Hythe suggesting that they may well be under water by the time we get there. Oh well.
Anyway – as things were constantly changing, I reckoned it would be a good idea just to get as far as we could today, until we met something that made us stop – so we kept battling our way upstream, occasionally passing red warning boards for the downstream sections. This is not a problem just now – but it might be when we come back down to do Long Whittenham. We’ll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it.
For the most part, the journey was not too bad. It makes you appreciate just what a good boat we have in Tyseley when you are ploughing past modern builds who are obviously struggling to make any headway against the stream. I am not sure whether they are under powered, or under propped. Whatever the case, they are going nowhere, whilst we can make pretty good time as long as the channel is not too narrow. The last stretch through the beginnings of Oxford was a bit of a nightmare, though. Not only are you sharing the water with a small flotilla of rowing boats, but the river gets narrow and windy. At points, even though the throttle was opened right out, we were only making about 2mph ground speed, and I wrenched all the muscles in my right arm trying to fight our way around the last few bends before Osney Lock. Which is where we are now tied up, along with several other narrow boats, waiting to find out it the red boards will come down tomorrow. Otherwise it looks like we will have to find a way of getting hold of the van. I do hope it won’t come to that! We have also had a phone call from Bablock Hythe suggesting that they may well be under water by the time we get there. Oh well.
A word of advice...
And then off up to Goring. It’s another great boat up there, made more fun by the really strong stream that was coming down the Thames. And the rain. Yes – more rain. I passed several places that I have decided I will have as moorings when I am rich and famous.
Last year, Goring Lock provided the biggest ever audience for an outside show that Mikron has ever done. We knew that this year was not going to be as good simply because the weather has been so bad. It was raining on and off all day – and that is not a good omen for audience numbers. And sure enough there were not nearly as many people as there had been last year. But there was still a pretty good turn out, considering. About 100 or so – which given the fact there is absolutely no shelter is not bad, I reckon. And the show went really well. I don’t know what it is about Goring Lock, but I have enjoyed all the shows that I have done there, and I can’t wait to go back again – hopefully with a better summer, next time.
By the way. If you are ever in Goring, NEVER go to Massoom’s Indian restaurant. It is not the one just next to the bridge, which I think we went to last year, and was rather good, if I remember rightly, but the one further up the high street. It was possibly the worst Indian vegetarian cooking I have ever encountered (greasy starters, five dishes, 2 flavours (neither of them good)). And certainly the most aggressive staff. Be warned.
Last year, Goring Lock provided the biggest ever audience for an outside show that Mikron has ever done. We knew that this year was not going to be as good simply because the weather has been so bad. It was raining on and off all day – and that is not a good omen for audience numbers. And sure enough there were not nearly as many people as there had been last year. But there was still a pretty good turn out, considering. About 100 or so – which given the fact there is absolutely no shelter is not bad, I reckon. And the show went really well. I don’t know what it is about Goring Lock, but I have enjoyed all the shows that I have done there, and I can’t wait to go back again – hopefully with a better summer, next time.
By the way. If you are ever in Goring, NEVER go to Massoom’s Indian restaurant. It is not the one just next to the bridge, which I think we went to last year, and was rather good, if I remember rightly, but the one further up the high street. It was possibly the worst Indian vegetarian cooking I have ever encountered (greasy starters, five dishes, 2 flavours (neither of them good)). And certainly the most aggressive staff. Be warned.
Corkage
And so to another moving day. We had two days to get to Goring lock – and so it was back down the K&A to reading, and thence on up the Thames. It will not have escaped your notice, I am sure, that it had been continuously raining for about the last week. And the Kennet was very full, and very fast. In fact, I had spent several fun packed afternoons watching as boats ploughed there way into locks and other boats as they tried to negotiate the particularly tricky section between the swing bridge, and the lock that lies outside the Rowbarge. But now it was our turn, it seemed a little less like fun. And we also had the prospect of trying to wind round in the 60ft winding hole that had proved such fun last year.
Well, getting into the lock wasn’t too bad, and nor was winding the 72ft of Tyseley in the tiny hole – once I had taken the fenders off. But heading back downstream was a different matter. Because you don’t have nearly so much control when going with the stream. It was a very odd experience, white water rafting in an old working boat. But I think Tyseley enjoyed it as much as I did. The thing is that you need to have speed through the water in order to have steerage – and when the water is moving fast, that means that you have to be moving faster. Great! Except for those moments when you are convinced that the boat is going to end up facing the wrong way and disappearing down a weir. We didn’t, but there were a couple of moments, especially coming into Reading itself, when I did wonder…
I had been told that the Thames was on red warnings, but when we popped out by Reading, like a cork out of a bottle, there was no sign of any problem. So we tied up to some trees outside Tesco’s to enjoy our evening.
Well, getting into the lock wasn’t too bad, and nor was winding the 72ft of Tyseley in the tiny hole – once I had taken the fenders off. But heading back downstream was a different matter. Because you don’t have nearly so much control when going with the stream. It was a very odd experience, white water rafting in an old working boat. But I think Tyseley enjoyed it as much as I did. The thing is that you need to have speed through the water in order to have steerage – and when the water is moving fast, that means that you have to be moving faster. Great! Except for those moments when you are convinced that the boat is going to end up facing the wrong way and disappearing down a weir. We didn’t, but there were a couple of moments, especially coming into Reading itself, when I did wonder…
I had been told that the Thames was on red warnings, but when we popped out by Reading, like a cork out of a bottle, there was no sign of any problem. So we tied up to some trees outside Tesco’s to enjoy our evening.
Dead Darth
The other thing that happened in Reading was rain. It rained a lot – although not when we were actually performing, thank goodness. But everything did get a little damp. And Darth (our faithful sound system, so called because his speakers look like Darth Vader’s helmet (I am slightly perturbed to note that my spell checker actually accepts both Darth and Vader…)) decided to give up the ghost. We had hoped that the clickings and poppings that were emanating from him were merely signs of a desire to become more like R2D2, and that once he had dried out he would go back to his normal ways, but the next day, when we plugged him in in the Space in Stroud, there was no improvement. Yes, your right – we didn’t get there by boat, it was a van job. Grrrr….
Anyway – it wasn’t too much of a problem in Stroud, because they had there own sound system. And we kept our fingers crossed that once he had REALLY had a chance to dry out, everything would be OK.
The other problem that the rain brought was that the Kennet was quite full. And full rivers really want to be empty. The only way they can achieve this is to try and get rid of their water as quickly as possible.
The next day, Anna, Adrian and Ruth disappeared to enjoy their days off. Tyseley had to move up to Woolhampton, and I had again enlisted Jo’s help. We knew that the journey was going to be a long one, and that the locks were going to be tough, but we had steeled ourselves for a day of serious boating. Just as we were about to set off, we were hailed from the towpath. All of a sudden our crew was boosted to 4. The friends of Mikron machine had worked its magic, and help was at hand. A journey that I had thought would take us somewhere approaching 9 hours took just over seven. Not bad going!
The Rowbarge has changed a little bit since last year. Last year it was in the hands of temporary landlords, but this year it has been taken over completely, and totally refurbished. It is VERY smart – and full of square leather armchairs. The conservatory has also been replaced by an extension to the restaurant. This means, of course, that there is no insidew option for us to perform in if it rained. As it very seriously threatened to do. In fact, it did more than threaten; it rained all day.
But there is nothing to do other than set up and hope for the best. Rob – who has performed with Mikron for the last 3 years, was visiting, whilst taking a break from his current job with Illyria, another touring company who do outdoor shows, although by van rather than by boat, and had an amazing Gazebo style shelter with him. Having teased him about it, I reluctantly agreed that perhaps it was worth putting up, as ours is very ropey.
The thing is amazing. It goes up in less than a minute, and comes down in about the same time. I am completely converted, and am now in the throes of trying to get the office to invest…
Unfortunately, during the day off, I had tried to get Darth working again, and had failed miserably, but luckily, Adrian had been able to bring a tiny guitar amp that would have to do the job for one night, at least, before we could find a suitable replacement.
By some strange miracle, the evening turned out to be fine, if cold, and we had a great show. The next day, the rain started again. And didn’t really stop. Adrian and I drove into Reading to replace Darth. Well, to be a bit more accurate, Adrian drove, and I sat in the passenger seat. But the net result was that, after spending an age talking to people who didn’t really seem to know much more about the subject than we did, we got a keyboard amp that should be fit for the job, But I got the impression that if we said we were going to use it as a submersible, they would still have tried to sell it to us. Time will tell.
Miracle of miracles, the rain cleared again – and the show was fine. The only trouble is that even though the shows are going aheas, the audiences are not appearing in such great numbers as we would hop. I know it is not surprising, given the weather, but it is a little disappointing.
Anyway – it wasn’t too much of a problem in Stroud, because they had there own sound system. And we kept our fingers crossed that once he had REALLY had a chance to dry out, everything would be OK.
The other problem that the rain brought was that the Kennet was quite full. And full rivers really want to be empty. The only way they can achieve this is to try and get rid of their water as quickly as possible.
The next day, Anna, Adrian and Ruth disappeared to enjoy their days off. Tyseley had to move up to Woolhampton, and I had again enlisted Jo’s help. We knew that the journey was going to be a long one, and that the locks were going to be tough, but we had steeled ourselves for a day of serious boating. Just as we were about to set off, we were hailed from the towpath. All of a sudden our crew was boosted to 4. The friends of Mikron machine had worked its magic, and help was at hand. A journey that I had thought would take us somewhere approaching 9 hours took just over seven. Not bad going!
The Rowbarge has changed a little bit since last year. Last year it was in the hands of temporary landlords, but this year it has been taken over completely, and totally refurbished. It is VERY smart – and full of square leather armchairs. The conservatory has also been replaced by an extension to the restaurant. This means, of course, that there is no insidew option for us to perform in if it rained. As it very seriously threatened to do. In fact, it did more than threaten; it rained all day.
But there is nothing to do other than set up and hope for the best. Rob – who has performed with Mikron for the last 3 years, was visiting, whilst taking a break from his current job with Illyria, another touring company who do outdoor shows, although by van rather than by boat, and had an amazing Gazebo style shelter with him. Having teased him about it, I reluctantly agreed that perhaps it was worth putting up, as ours is very ropey.
The thing is amazing. It goes up in less than a minute, and comes down in about the same time. I am completely converted, and am now in the throes of trying to get the office to invest…
Unfortunately, during the day off, I had tried to get Darth working again, and had failed miserably, but luckily, Adrian had been able to bring a tiny guitar amp that would have to do the job for one night, at least, before we could find a suitable replacement.
By some strange miracle, the evening turned out to be fine, if cold, and we had a great show. The next day, the rain started again. And didn’t really stop. Adrian and I drove into Reading to replace Darth. Well, to be a bit more accurate, Adrian drove, and I sat in the passenger seat. But the net result was that, after spending an age talking to people who didn’t really seem to know much more about the subject than we did, we got a keyboard amp that should be fit for the job, But I got the impression that if we said we were going to use it as a submersible, they would still have tried to sell it to us. Time will tell.
Miracle of miracles, the rain cleared again – and the show was fine. The only trouble is that even though the shows are going aheas, the audiences are not appearing in such great numbers as we would hop. I know it is not surprising, given the weather, but it is a little disappointing.
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