A day on a hired narrow boat...

We met up at 10am at Pitstone Wharf, Cheddington (which is only a few minutes walk from the location of the 1963 great train robbery) and divided up into two groups, each comprising of 14 for each barge, which was probably just the right amount of people-ensuring it wasn't too crowded, and that we all had enough space for food and drink and coats etc. Though there were seats inside, most of us stood at the bow or the stern of the narrow boat, because that's where all the fun was. :-) One or two, even climbed on top of the barge!

After being given basic instructions on how to steer the barges, and control their speed, we were given a barge called the 'Lady Jane,' while the other group's barge didn't even have a name-at least not one I could see. Maybe, it had fallen off. I think we had the better barge by a long way!

Our barge was the first one to leave the canal basin. We did an immediate left turn, and then headed off towards Marsworth at the breakneck speed of about 5mph, with the second group in hot pursuit. Within 20 minutes, we nearly hit an oncoming barge, which was a bit embarrassing, especially since I was on the bow, and was the first person they saw, so had to apologize. We literally came within about 2 inches of crashing into the barge! I don't think the oncoming driver looked too happy.  Then shortly after that, we ran into some overhanging branches. At this stage, I could see us rapidly losing our deposit, if not the barge itself. :-)

10 minutes after that we reached the first of our locks. While waiting for the water to empty from the newly unlocked gate, we were told off for allowing the barge to get too close to the gate, by someone passing by. There is a huge, concrete step, on the lock itself, and if you get too close to the step, while the water empties, your barge can actually tip over, as it gets lifted up onto the concrete. The passerby said this was really serious! Yet, we hadn't even been warned about it!

After that, thankfully, the rest of the day was a lot more settled, and the steering became less erratic. We saw lots of ducks, and geese and swans pass by, skillfully weaving in and out of the many barges on hire.

At about half eleven, we moored the boats, close to Tring Reservoir, and all got out and had our picnics. Some wanted to go to the pub afterwards, so after eating, we set off again, and this time moored near the Anglers Retreat in Marsworth.

While they had a pint, I walked up to Marsworth reservoir, which was only 5 minutes walk away-that's where I took the picture of the Anglers Retreat and the dandelion seed head. After about 30 minutes, I walked back down to join the others, and then get back on the barge. We got back to the basin at about 3pm.It is definitely peaceful on the canal, just as people say. 

Some of the locks had their date stamped on them, and many were in the 1890's. It's such a simple way of life, and it's been going on for so long. I do wonder what it would be like to actually live on one, rather then just taking a day trip...On reflection, maybe, the bank holiday wasn't the best day to go on a barge, because of the huge increase in traffic, and as a result, at some locks you had 3 or 4 barges waiting in line to come through. 

It is a very slow means of getting around, but that's not a bad thing. You get to notice more. In fact, because it was so slow, some found it just as quick to walk along the tow path, as sit in the barge itself, and a few did just that, as they walked along to the next lock, to see what the status of the lock was before re-boarding the barge at the next lock.

It was a good day & I'd recommend going on a narrow boat to anybody! :-)

The Mousetrap

Finally got round to seeing the Mousetrap today. I must be the only person on the planet who didn't know who the murderer was. However, I assure you, it didn't stay that way for long! Even half way through the play I think most of the audience should have worked it out. I can only conclude, modern audiences have grown so sophisticated over the sixty years since it premiered that every literary sleight of hand going, has been seen so many times before, we know each step even before it's been taken. So what explains it's runaway success? It certainly is entertaining. There is something ever so slightly pantomime about its individual parts. Each character appears desperately earnest in its endeavor to convince the audience that they are the murderer in question, however unlikely. Maybe, we just need the familiar? After all, when we see a likeable comedian telling a joke that we've all heard before, we still laugh. The set was excellent. The first act was very good, but for me, the second act was a bit too busy self-consciously winding itself down, and with it's celebrated twist, by the time it finished, was actually more like a collapsing pack of cards.

Terry Lloyd

Last night a program was shown on ITV, concerning the death of an ITN news reporter called Terry Lloyd, who was tragically shot by the Americans in Iraq.

I met Terry once, many years ago sitting on the doorstep outside his house in the village of Cuddington. He always came across as friendly whenever I saw him, but he always seemed to be in a rush to go somewhere, so we never really got to speak properly. However, on this one occasion when I saw him, I remember it being so unbearably hot, I don't think either of us wanted to expend any more energy then we needed to by going anywhere, so we just chatted for a while & I complained about the weather. He asked me how I was, and seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. He even asked me if I wanted a drink. I was familiar of course with his many tv reports, typically, with tracer bullets lighting up the sky, or shells exploding all around him, as he talked without flinching to the camera, but what really struck me was just how quickly he could make someone like me feel at ease. It was quite disarming. I didn't expect that from someone who was so well known. I guess in a war zone, your life can depend on how quickly you get people on your side. That exchange wouldn't have meant anything to him of course, but still, it's something I won't forget. It's always those small acts of kindness you remember. His death was such a shock.

A gift from a friend

What was my friend trying to say about me?!

Explosion in Hemel Hempstead

It seems half of the South East of England all woke up at the same time this morning, at just past 6am. Why? A massive explosion in a fuel depot in Hemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire could be heard across 3 or 4 counties.

I live about 15 miles away from the oil depot and I was woken by the sound, as were others in my family, scattered around the town. The sound of the explosion was so loud it was carried up to 40 miles away. There are even claims it could be heard as far away as Holland! Experts say the reason why the sound travelled so far was due to a 'temperature inversion,' which means because of the cold frosty weather, the cold layer at ground level is trapped by a warmer layer above it, and this acts like a cap, trapping the soundwaves, and pushing them outwards rather then upwards as would normally be the case.

In the industrial estate where the fuel depot is located, windows and fire doors were blown out, cars caught fire and roofs caved in. The police have advised those living in the area to stay indoors, such are the health risks from breathing in some of the smoke. The M1 is closed in both directions. Miraculously, it seems there are no fatalities.

Midsummer Murders

Yesterday, I finally got the chance to watch the television drama, 'Midsummer Murders.'

A television crew spent a whole week last year filming this particular episode in the village that I spend most of my time in. At one stage, I even remember being asked to stop and wait by one of the film makers as I accidentally had walked on set, because they were busy filming one particular scene.

The program makers had changed the name of the pub, filled the green with actors and actresses, put up stalls, and banners, and had remarkably transformed a very small strip of grass successfully into the space needed to contain a village fete, complete with carnival procession, using a careful selection of camera angles and close-ups.

After, they allowed me to continue walking, two or three of the actors, made comments to me as they sat and waited for the director to initiate and set up the next scene. I smiled and carried on walking, trying my best to appear unfazed by such an attention-grabbing spectacle, when all I really wanted to do was watch!

Little did I know the caliber of the actors in that crowd;John Nettles,Simon Callow, Sophie Thompson  (Emma Thompson's sister) etc

As I watched the video yesterday, I must admit I did slow down some of the scenes to see if they had accidentally left me in. Drat! Like so many bit-part actors before me, I had been cruelly cut. Maybe, it was my fluorescent jacket? Or my self-conscious smile? Or the fact that I was waving in the background, with a sign up saying, 'Hello Mum?'

Narnia

Yesterday, I finally went to see, 'The Chronicles of Narnia.' I have to confess I shed a few tears in the dark, safe confines of the cinema. It really is a beautiful film.

The clear parallels found in the narrative with Christianity emerge as the film unfolds; from the Divine scales of justice, that required a ransom to be sacrificed in place of Edmund (Sinful Mankind), which is provided by Aslan, the Great Lion(Jesus), saving Edmund from punishment, and allowing him the right to live, to the swooping birds in the final battle scene who give the humans below the support they desperately need, when all seems lost(Angels).

There's one lovely scene in particular, where Aslan's impressive forces who are made up of giant, mythical-looking beasts, are preparing themselves ready for battle, swords are being sharpened, armor is being fitted, battle strategies are being discussed, but everything comes to a stop as they hear the small sound of footsteps, belonging to four very small children approaching the encampment (Christians). Instead of looking down to the children from their horses and their high vantage points, they look up to these new recruits, and a respectful silence emerges, because for the armies of Narnia it was all foretold, this moment would come, where the light would triumph over the darkness, but it would be at the hand of the children that the battle for Narnia would ultimately be won, however weak in presence they seemed.

Each of the four children; Lucy, Edmund, Susan and Peter, are typical children, full of immaturity, insecurity, and fear, but they still manage to achieve the impossible by defeating the White Witch(Satan), because whatever limitations they have placed on themselves, Aslan the lion, has already seen right through to their hearts, and that supreme, overwhelming belief in what the children could achieve allows them to keep growing. In fact, from such diminutive stature and standing, they keep rising in strength and become so powerful, by the end of the film, when the battle is over, they're able to look down from their thrones at their subjects, having been taught the nature of love and faith and its depth-fully aware of the power and force that binds all things (holy spirit), and bursting with love for Aslan and his great sacrifice which makes it all possible.