Monday 26th March 2007
Kicklewell Spinney Bridge - Market Harborough - Foxton Stepbridge (12¾ miles, 10 locks)
We set off early through the mist, arriving at Foxton top lock just before the 8am opening time. There was another Ownerships boat waiting to go down and we logged our arrival with the lock-keeper who had just stared his tour of duty after the end of the winter season. Mooring was a bit of a problem because the permanently moored boats that used to inhabit the arm towards the derelict inclined plane had been temporarily moved onto the main canal while restoration work was carried out. Hopefully they will move back to the arm before the summer rush starts.
There was further chaos as a Canaltime boat and three more Ownerships boats arrived. There was a boat called Barling coming up the flight, heading for ABNB. We had picked up the details the previous day and Jen was interested in looking round on our return trip.
It was still misty as we progressed down the two flights of five staircase locks. Being his first day back, the lock-keeper was extra keen and had everyone running around, leaving Jen exhausted by the time we reached the bottom.
It was also impossible to moor down here because of construction work which had closed off large sections of the towpath. We moored outside the Bridge 61 pub initially, but moved across to the Foxton Locks Inn after the Canaltime boat that was following us down the locks managed to crash into us.
They had tried to pick up their crew on the section of towpath that was closed, so they executed another turn to collect them from Foxton Locks Inn, but now facing the wrong way. They then tried to carry on round, wedging themselves into a confined space from which I helped them escape by pushing the bows round from the towpath. They pirouetted around with the stern about to collide with the same spot on the towpath and the elderly woman at the helm stuck her leg out to push away from the bank as the boat was still moving sideways. I saw her leg catch against the metal stanchion on the cruiser stern and her ankle twisted into a grotesque shape. I cringed and waited for the cracking sound, but luckily she pulled her foot away from the bank in time. Meanwhile, the younger woman at the bows was shouting instructions - "forward, reverse, full lock left and full lock right". Everything was executed at full throttle as they crashed into the BW workboat moored on the closed section of towpath at the start of the Harborough Arm. Their stern then swing round and crashed into Hawksmoor. Fortunately, the rubber fender on the stern of the Canaltime boat left only scuffmarks down the side of the blacking.
After moving Hawksmoor, we visited the museum, which we found hard to get enthusiastic about, and then had lunch at the Foxton Locks Inn, where dogs were welcome. We carried on down the Harborough Arm, planning to moor near the basin at Market Harborough and walk into town for some shopping, but there was absolutely no space left on the visitor moorings.
We winded the boat and went back to Bridge 14 , only slightly further to walk into town, but along a busy main road. Walking back, we decided to go via the basin and along the towpath. Near the basin, Jen popped into a newsagents while I stayed outside with Tess. A teenage lad on a bike was admiring Tess and asked me how much puppies like that cost. A short while later, as Jen and I walked back along the towpath, we were followed by the lad and four of his hoodie mates, all on their bikes.
We got back to Hawksmoor and set off back towards Foxton, with the hoodies still following us along the towpath. Every now and again, the first lad, who appeared to be the only one who spoke English, asked me questions like "where are you going to stop" and "how much further are you going". By this stage I was feeling rather uneasy, and felt we were being stalked by dognappers for the sake of a £150 puppy, so I bent the truth slightly and told them that Foxton was many miles away. About half a mile before our intended mooring spot, they gave up and returned home.
They were probably really nice kids, and I tried not to be influenced by the fact that they matched the stereotype for Somali asylum seekers, but I felt more threatened than on any of our trips through Birmingham.
We moored just past Foxton Stepbridge close to another boat....