Thurs 17th July Stoke Golding to Snarestone

Before heading off I walked back into the village to look at the Church. A sign on the locked door promised me I'd find the key outside No 4 of the cottages beside - it wasn't, but a jolly old chap I'd seen through the window listening to something on a huge hifi opened the door when I knoocked holding it. No pictures, as I used a proper old SLR with black an white film (as seemed only fitting) and they need chemicals, and time...

Once on the water I spotted a boat called No Problem, but not the famous one (and they're obviously elsewhere anyway). There'll be a post full of boat names to come at some point, I'm sure...

Speaking of which: here's 'Hare' hammering out of a blind bridge at a rate of knots, appropriately enough;



I was fascinated to see 'real' bullrushes in the banks, and wondered if I'd only ever seen them before in children's books. That can't be the case, surely?



They also seem to grow walkers in the fields round here:



Stopped at Market Bosworth for a breif explore; the road up into the old square seems to be mostly new houses being built. The steam railway passes through but there's no access to the (closed) station. Further up at Shackerstone the [steam railway] station wasn't technically open, but a guy working on carriages (also a director of the line, an ex BR railway fitter and owner of 5 shirehorses) showed me how to climb in and was quite happy for me to have a look around and peer in windows:



Life's hard for a volunteer run steam railway; they only really make money, he said from the 'Thomas' theme days, and they're run on such a tight franchise it's hardly worth doing. More exciting for me are the 'Ivor the Engine' days that happen occasionally, although they can surely only appeeal to the parents, not the children?

There's also this sign nearby, which I have no idea about, but I like the bitterness of it... The pub in the vollage, the Rising Sun, was closed weekday afternoons (takes me back, that does) so I took a photo of Tortoise through the trees, and carried on.



and then ran out of canal at Snarestone (dreadful flat picture, it was raining, but symbolic nevertheless):



In the evening I got to know a few of the 'residents' (which kind of explains why someone wopuld need to run a generator on a 48 hour mooring), and rewired my batteries with the new cables done for me at Midland Chandlers - much tidier now. Later I walked back along the towpath and over the tunnel to the Globe pub, walking back by the lane in the moonlight.