Oh boy, did it rain.

Sunday 23rd August

Note to self:- mooring opposite a newspaper distribution depot is not conducive to a happy crew. Well, a happy wife, who rather enjoys a good night's sleep.

By suppertime, Saturday, all the beeping vans, (not a euphemism) had gone away and the Stalagluft strength lighting had been reduced to Parkhurst escape prevention levels. The herring gull teenager who was yelling because its parents had given up feeding it had given up and gone to roost. Peace at last.Until 3am. The Sunday supplements turned up and sleep was banished. Later the Sunday Blab had to be redistribited, which took us to 6am. I hope you enjoyed your read of world trivia and stuff wot really matters, I'm hoping to doze in locks today.

Sleep deprivation so damages the brain that it's outlawed under the Geneva Convention. That said, I was sure I was hallucinating at Commandery lock. As Worcester Cathedral called the faithful to prayers I saw a man on the lock beam beating up a swan with a bicycle he'd taken from a small child. No, really. Mr & Mrs Rambo-Swan were objecting to another swan in the pound and giving it thorough pecking. Graham managed to herd the swan into the lock, shut the gates until Jannock approached, let us in to share the trip down and let the swan into the safety of Diglis basin. As we left Mr & Mrs Rambo had herded another victim into a corner for the same treatment.

              

All was fine and we worked our way through the very heavy gated wide locks down from Diglis basin and went onto the river Severn. Once through the first river lock the clouds started to form and corrupt the previously clear blue sky.  At 12.00 it got dark and we wondered if we'd see Noah floating downstream. I felt a sudden urge to go in and make plum jam, in the dry, and left graham in charge of navigation (and getting very wet) The urge wore off some 4 jars later, just as the rain stopped and Graham turned into the Avon.

As we had been unable to stop at Upton-upon-Severn for lunch , due to an acute lack of moorings, we finally got a Sunday roast at about 19.00 in the Royal Hop Poles Hotel, Tewkesbury.

This is an attractive little town, with a lovely Abbey church and all facilities. We ate mulberries, fresh from the tree in the abbey grounds they are delicious, why does no-one grow them?

Brenda