Ah, the lovely Caldon canal - some sections on the hillside way above the river are too narrow for boats to pass; I sound my horn and take them slowly, but didn't meet anyone anyway...
I filled up with water at Consall Forge, by the weir; normally water points are woefully low in pressure, this one you could use as a pressure washer, and of course I got soaked; at full the hose wouldn't even stay in the filler hole, leading to comedy hose wrestling exploits.
I'd promised myself a wander around Cheddleton, so moored up after the locks, and even managed to take a few black and white film pics of the flint mill, and explored the village a little - you can have a filling or buy a jacuzzi, even some stamps, but not buy a newspaper or food. We're only a few miles from Stoke on Trent, but capitalism strikes again.
On through the afternoon, and even doing the Stockton Brook flight in the evening again (even seeing the same couple walking through). The pound between locks 7 & 8 was low again; possibly not even entirely the fault of the hire boat crew coming up who didn't seem to know which order & when to open paddles (who also tried to close the lock gates I'd just opened as I cruised towards it. They seemed to be having fun, mind.
Moored up just below the last lock with an inspiring view, ready for a trip through Stoke tomorrow. Less inspiring was the fresh dogshit left behind by a few locals & pets in the few minutes it took for me to walk back to the lock and close the gates - I'm sure there has to be a country somewhere in which it's lucky.