Jet-lagged, Suki immediately hops into bed in the Gate Hotel
Real Estate being expensive as it is in London, a room this size is relatively luxurious. Flat Panel TVs are all the rage, and all hotel rooms have electric kettles. Unlike other Bed'n'Breakfasts, the breakfast in the Gate Hotel is served in the room (because they have no space for a dining area I'm sure).
Small bathroom. This is the only thing about the hotel that bothered me a bit. The shower stall is small enough that just turning my body or reaching for the soap will inevitably knock my elbow on the temperature control. We also found out a few days later that when our upstairs neighbor showers, water leaks through the ceiling into our bathroom.
Inside the Globe Theatre. The blue inclined plane that the people are leaning on is actually a walk way that goes from the stage into the audience area, and during the performance quite frequently the actors will run into the crowd.
Suki and I are, of course, Groundlings (meaning cheap standing tickets, best view possible [we were about a foot away from the stage since we got in early enough], and an authentic 16th century experience).
We bought tickets for Midsummer Night's Dream for the first evening we are in London. We preceded that with some wonderful Fish'n'Chips in Notting Hill, near where we were staying.
This lantern serves both as illumination for the area, as well as theatrical prop whenever the actors need to point at the sun or the moon.
The second story is where the orchestral “pit” is; the hole in the ceiling is where Robin Goodfellow (Puck) will descend onto the stage (very traditional Deus Ex Machina); all three of the doors (stage left, right, center) are used for entraces and exeunts. (And yes, we were there to watch Midsummer Night's Dream.)
The “Lords and Ladies” as they put it, sits on benches for at least twice the price of the groundling tickets. For another 2 or 3 pounds, you can rent a cushion to sit on. In my opinion, the view is at lot worse, with many pillars in the way. The only advantage is that if it rains (which did not happen for us) the groundlings will get very much wetter than the seated audience.
More of us Groundlings. Before the play started, one of the actors in full Elizabethan garb came out and said: “Lords and Ladies, Gentlemen, [glares at his feet and growls] Groundlings [withdrawing contemptuous voice] ” and then proceeded to ask us to turn off our cell phones, cameras, video recording devices and such using 16th century language (I think cell phones were “devices to enable discussion with those far away from you” and cameras were “machines for making impressions in great rapidity”).
The play took a bit over two hours. With the intermission accounted for, it is near 10 when it ended. This is the outside of the Globe at night.
The Millennium Footbridge was built to commemorate Y2K. It goes from Blackfriars (to be exact, from the steps right in front of St. Paul's Cathedal, whose dome you can see in the picture) to Tate Modern (the art museum which is right next door to the Globe Theatre).
Crossing the Thames on the Millennium bridge. In the background you can see the Tower Bridge.
The Tower of London is right across the road! The first thing we did for our second day in London (June 12).
Suki with some roman dude. Honestly we can't remember who he is, but I think he might have been a poet.
Suki and I next to the Tower of London. See that carefully manicured lawn? That used to be the moat. More on it later.
One of the only entrances to the Tower: it was built as a defensible fortress, as well as a palace, originally. The draw bridge has been replaced by a stone one after they drained the moat.
The Tower Bridge in the background. No idea what that globular building on the right is.
Tower Bridge
Inside the Tower (which is more properly a castle or a fort. The Tower, Hampton Court, Buckingham Palace, Kensington Palace, and one other that I do not know, are the five palaces in the London area. If you are a palatial fan, you can sign up for a membership for 45 pounds which gives you free admission to all of the five palaces. It is a bargain as admission to one is between 10 and 15 pounds. Since Suki and I only went to two, we just bought student tickets).
I can't figure out why the remains of a tree stump needs to be encircled by a wrought iron fence. So I took a picture of it.
The moat was originally poorly designed: the water was drawn from the Thames, but the gates were built somewhere between the high- and low-tide marks, so the moat is either filled with chest-high water, or muddy: not very effective as a mean of defense. They then hired a consultant, who charged them a bundle and told them to make the water inlet lower in elevation. They smacked their heads and said: “Why didn't we bloody think of that?!”
On what used to be a draw bridge.
Now with water that is consistently around 7 - 10 foot deep, the problem of defense is solved... along with the problem of trash and human waste disposal. The moat soon became a cess pool, with trash, disease, dead bodies, and polar bears. When the crown still lived here, the Tower was also used as the royal menagerie. The animals weren't just for pure entertainment: the lions and bears were put to work underneath some boobie traps so that enemies who fell through will be slain and devoured. During more peaceful times, the polar bears were allowed to swim in the moat.
Then the polar bears (and nearby residents) contracted cholera from the water. After much deliberation (and realization that a united England, especially London, is unlikely to be in a land war anyway where a moat would be most useful) the moat was drained, the inlet was filled, and the extremely fertile soil now contributes to the lush lawn that replaced the moat.
We are all gathered waiting for the next guided tour of the Tower (free with admission; tips to the tour guide are encouraged).
What's with weird circular buildings in London?
Our guide. He is a member of the Yeoman Guards (aka Beefeaters), the E II R on his chest obviously stands for Elizabeth II, Regina. We were lucky with the guide: he was extremely funny. We thought it was scripted, but after eavesdropping on some of the other tour guides, we found out that they have certain bits of information they need to get out, and the style of delivery (most guides choose a somber tone) is completely up to the individual. So I think his dry English wit was probably part of his own personality.
Getting in line to go see the Crown Jewels (and of course, phtography not allowed).
Suki and I have seen crows. But we've never seen ravens before. They are HUGE! About 18 inches or more from beak to tail.
The Tower of London mascot is a raven named Thor. There are currently 9 ravens, whose wings are clipped, partly because the belief that should the ravens leave the Tower, England will fall. Thor is the second eldest of the ravens (accoring to Wikipedia, citing a reference to 2006).
Big swords. From point to pommel about my height.
The Armour of Henry VIII. The codpiece is probably not his actual size, but rather an early attempt at psychological warfare.
Beautiful gold inlays on the armours for Princes. Probably very young when they got the armour, since the armours stood no more than four and a half feet.
The area known as Tower Green. Many tourists, upon hearing the name, instinctively searches for a green coloured tower.
Looking up at a portcullis. Some may think this is not the best idea.
Looking at the Tower Bridge from on top of the outer walls of the Tower of London.
This row of buildings now houses the families of the Yeoman Guards (yes, they do live in a castle, in the middle of London, with parket spaces included). They use to house the smiths who works for the royal mint. In particular, Sir Isaac Newton, in his capacity thereof, live here near the end of his life.
From the Tower of London, we went to the Park Terrace Cafe at the Royal Garden Hotel at Kensington for high tea. I keep kicking myself for not taking a picture of the desserts we got (for tea we had really awesom organic Earl Grey). The Royal Garden Hotel is right next to Kensington Gardens, which is where this picture was taken. In the background is Kensington Palace.
An Eurasian Coot.
Swans practicing yoga.
Swan taking flight. It's quite amazing how they just run over water with the webbed feet of theirs.
“Physical Energy” by George Frederic Watts
In Britain, there are lots of signs telling dog owners to pick up after their dogs, as well as lots of dedicated bins for doggy doo. But often they have a lack of regular litter bins.
The Albert Memorial, from behind. When the Royal Consort, Prince Albert, passed away, he explicitly demanded that no pomp nor celebration be made of his passing and no memorials be built for him. Queen Vicky decided that he can't really mean that, and had this constructed. And the Royal Albert Hall. Albert didn't want to be one of those people who is only famous for the fact that things were named after him after he died. We now know who wore the pants in that family.
The Royal Albert Hall
The Albert Memorial from the front. See the two people standing there? That's the scale of this monstrosity.
The four corners are Asia, America, Europe, and Africa. This is, of course, the America corner.
Across the road from Kensington Gardens is Hyde Park. In the background you can barely make out the Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Fountain.
Suki likes roses.
A stork on a pier on the bank of the Serpentine Lake
The fountain was originally intended to be an “immersion” experience, if you know what I mean. But since the structure is made of marble, quite a few people slipped in the fountain, especially after a bit of mud got into the fountain from people's shoes. So now they only allow respectful dipping of extremities into the water.
The larger body of water in the background is the Serpentine Lake.
A family of eurasian coots.
One can walk along the Serpentine and under a bridge to pass from Hyde Park back to Kensington Gardens. On the way a flock of geese crossed our path.
The famous (and famously hidden [you'd know what I mean if you tried looking for it in Kensington Gardens]) sculpture of Peter Pan by Sir George Frampton. It wa donated to the park by Sir James Barrie himself.
Princess Di has a big presence in Kensington. At every intersection in the Gardens one sees little markers like this.
The Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Playground (no kidding). The pirate ship is surely to tie in with the Peter Pan sculpture.
On Friday the thirteenth, we went to Hampton Court.
Suki's done with her juice box.
Suki really likes her roses.
See what I mean?
Since we are at Hampton Court, we have to visit the famous Hedge Maze.
Which way do I go?
Exit... so close yet so far.
Motion sensors installed at various spots in the maze. It plays various randomized sounds (wind chimes, classical music, people laughing, for example) when visitors walk by. I think it is meant to confuse.
A dead-end
We found the center! The dial in the center is the mechanical randomizer for the motion sensor driven chimes. The needle spins until the motion sensor registers, and depending on which way it points the sensor plays different sounds. Also on the map shown, the corresponding LED lights up to show those who made it to the center where the other visitors are. I'm pretty sure this was not built in Henry VIII's time.
The thinker
Another dead-end. Will we ever get out?
Yay! We found the third and last dead-end.
Victory!
The Lions Gate
“Little bird, what are you doing in my tea pot?”
A quite impressive clock: it shows 24 hrs, season, zodiac, month, and some other symbols that we cannot quite make out.
This wing was constructed by George II. Hampton Court is unique in that it blends Tudor (Henry VIII), Georgian, and Baroque (William and Mary replaced half of the buildings with Sir Christopher Wren's work before running out of funds, and then dying). This schizophrenic nature also made it pedagogically wonderful for comparing the evolution of architectural styles.
The Fish Court was built in a way so that it is naturally cool and damp, and thus served as the walk-in-refridgerator of Hampton Court.
Fish hooks for Fridays. Actually, people in Tudor era were not that great on biology, and so waterfowls and beavers and otters are all counted as aquatic creatures and hence fishes.
Pies were cooking/eating utensils. People would take the pie, pry off the top, eat the stew within, and throw the crust out into the pigsty. The original disposable bowls, and cheaper than silverware.
Suki took some up and smelled them: “They are real spices!” Willie: “I wonder how often they change them.”
Suki listening to the audio guide about how coal-fired stoves are soooo much better than modern gas stoves: it can be used as a stove, a BBQ grill, as well as a broiler.
Suki also discovered her dream profession: experimental food historian. Everything in this kitchen was reconstructed using Tudor methods to Tudor specifications and the historians took pains to show that one can actually cook with them. A hands-on and stomach-on approach to history.
Real fire. Toasty. Turning the roasting spit is a “real man's job”.
The experimental food historians contacted one of the few artisans still making silver platters in the traditional method, gave the specification, and asked for 800 pieces. The other end of the telephone fell quiet. The shop was apparently a one-man-job and each plate takes several hours....
Yes, they did have roast peacocks. The proper word to use for cutting up a peacock is to “disfigure” one. And they are supposed to taste horrible.
Barrels and barrels of “vintage”, i.e. wines made in the same year and as strong as possible. Think an extremely strong beaujolais nouveau.
For most of the palaces, one is not allowed to take pictures of the interior. Thus here we have a photo of the outside of the Great Hall of Henry VIII...
People in costume! They run a “Choose your own adventure” tour that was, to be honest, quite lame. It was good acting, but there were only 1 or 2 choices we get to make.
As you may have noticed, Henry VIII featured rather prominently in our trip (the Tower of London imprisoned and executed Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard; he took Hampton Court from Cardinal Thomas Wolsey during his meteoric fall from power). Much of this is because of a British national fascination on him. Of the nonfictional British Monarchs, most Brits seems to be most familiar and interested in Henry VIII (Church of England and 6 wives say much about him), Bess I (Not all that different temporally from Henry VIII, being his daughter and all), and Victoria. Indeed, at night when resting our poor feet at the Gate Hotel, we spent quite a bit of time watching either a television miniseries or a movie on TV titled “Henry VIII”.
There are river cruises from London to Hampton Court. It takes about 3 times longer to get to Hampton Court that way (compared to national rail), so half the day will be gone by the time you arrive.
Funky shaped trees. Reminds me of cousins from Katamari Damacy.
More Mushroom-Alien trees. This is part of the so-called “Formal Gardens”.
This is the Georgian side of the palace.
The actual reflecting pool and fountain are on the “free” part of the Gardens (The gardens at Hampton Court has a part that is called the “Formal Gardens” which charges admission; the admission is included in the price for the normal ticket to the palace), so there is a fence around the area.
A tree tunnel!
Peeking out midway in the tunnel.
Are those Marshmallow Peep topiaries?
One single grape vine. The grapes are for eating, not for wine making. During late summer, early autumn, they sell the grapes in the gift shop.
After returning from Hampton Court, we grabbed some West Cornwell Pasties from a stand in the train station, and then went to Harrod's where we procured some Darjeeling that's Far Too Good For Ordinary People, as well as some chocolates filled with rose and violet liqueur. Each piece of the chocolate cost about 1 USD, but they are absolutely fabulous. The rose flavour lingered in my mouth for 20 minutes after I had the chocolate. We then set about to find a Tube station to go home, and accidentally stumbled on the Victoria and Albert Museum (yes, that's another statue of Prince Albert; see how one's wishes are carried out should one be the royal consort). There were people in atheletic gear rushing into the museum. Carrying fencing bags. Apparently the museum was having a event on arms, and invited some British fencers to have demonstration bouts IN the museum. (Okay, in the central courtyard in the museum, away from the fragile artifacts. But still.) We, of course, went and watched.
Saturday was a fine day. So I decided to take a picture of the front of our Bed and breakfast. It is on one end (the end far from the market) of Portobello Road in Notting Hill, about 3 minutes walk from the Notting Hill Gate tube stop.
To the Market! On the weekends the Portobello Road Market attracts Londoners and tourists alike. They sell everything from food, antiques, clothing, to knock-off electronics, random groceries, and miscellaneous tools.
Two stalls selling antique telescopes and periscopes. This is near the southern end of the market, where on weekdays, there are no stalls, but the street is still full of antique shops that open until 3pm.
Near the middle we find most of the food stalls. There are hot, freshly prepared snacks to much on, as well as fruit, vegetable, even fish selling in open air. And here we see that they even have dragon fruits in England.
Near the northern end is most of the clothing and accessories. This stall sells hand bags made from a single piece of two-sided zippers. By zipping up and unzipping down, you can change the length of the strap, or make it into a back pack, or just unzip the whole thing into a strand of zipper. It is a really neat, though over-priced and slightly impractical, idea.
After a quick lunch of german sausage and fruit salad at the road market, we headover to Westminster. Here's the Eye of London.
Suki and Ben.
Westminster Abbey. We didn't go in.
Old Bulldog standing on a street corner.
Big Ben
In the background is the Parliament building.
For some reason, we see a long...
...long...
...line of buses in the vicinity of Whitehall.
Trafalgar square. Admiral Nelson recently got a shampoo to wash out the pigeon poop.
Nelson's column is surrounded by four lions at the base. Curiously, they are having a Thai festival at Trafalgar Sq that day, and so the column is surrounded by signs for Singha Beer (whose mascot is a deformed lion).
We walked from Trafalgar Sq up to the British Museum. We were a bit peckish so made our way to Museum Street first, on which there were a Bimbimbop Cafe (selling Korean and Italian food), a Thai Garden Cafe (selling Thai, southeast asian foods, as well as salads and coffee), and a Pancake Cafe (which sells Greek diner food, crepe, and espresso drinks).
Inside the famous dome of the British Museum.
A lot of cultures have hear of the lion, but not seen one. China is a famous example: the traditional idea of the lion is closer to that of the Shihtzu Dog then a real lion, and reflected in the sculptures of lions one finds all over Beijing. This example here is from Greece/Turkey.
The Rosetta Stone.
I used to be able to reed a bit of Egyptian Hieroglyphs, thanks to Professor Katz's class on Writing Systems of the World.
A mini-Sphinx
Cuneiforms, or as Suki puts it, wedge-language.
The Assyrians, under King Ashurbanipal of Nineveh, catches lions in the wild and release them in an arena to hunt for fun. They clearly have seen real lions, and are much better at depicting them. (The TMBG song “The Mesopotamians” suddenly parses a lot better after seeing the exhibit.)
This statue of Venus is part of the personal collection of the royal family, it is on loan for display from Queen Elizabeth II.
For some reason, Venus only cares about the hygiene of her left leg.
Pigs.
A slightly better, but still “off” lion from the Maussoleum (I'm spelling it with two s's since Maussolus' name has two s's).
Sophocles
This ridiculous rendition of the lion comes from the Nereid Monument, a Lykian tomb in modern Turkey.
A very old umbrella shop.
Sunday, we made our way to Greenwich. This is the Maritime Museum.
Despite it being Liam Neeson narrating, I didn't feel like paying 6 pounds to feel disgusted.
On top of the hill is our first stop, the Royal Observatory.
Willie, Greenwich, and London. Greenwich has a really nice open-air market, with delicacies from all around the world (including mouth searingly hot Jamaican food which we took for lunch).
Suki and Greenwich. We had our dinner that day at Tai Won Mien, a Chinese noodle shop in town. I give a 7/10 for food, and 0/10 for decor: the interior is more like a high school cafeteria than a eatery, but as a result the food is amazingly cheap by London standards (indeed, the cheapest among the meals we had in England that is also filling).
This clock is always accurate, because it “defines” GMT.
There are no fewer than 4 meridians in the observatory: basically each corresponds to where the astronomer royal set up his telescope (often the family of the astronomer royal will dismantle the telescope to take home after the astronomer passes away, so the next one needs to set up his own telescope).
The Prime Meridian! Suki and I cheated a bit in taking this picture...
... as this is the official tourist trap. The line is really, really long. And we didn't feel like waiting an hour and 15 minutes for the privilege to take a picture with something that kind of looks like a sun dial. So we skirted the line and took a picture with a line painted on a wall. At the observatory we also saw an exhibit on chronometers, especially on the effort to solve the longitude problem by John Harrison. After this we went to lunch and then went to the Maritime Museum.
Monday afternoon, after buying groceries at at Tesco in Market Harborough, we watched a training video, and then received hands-on training on how to drive (and maintain) the narrowboat. After which we are set free on the Grand Union Canal. And we saw ponies.
Suki is really excited to be Captain.
The ducks make a welcoming committee.
The boat. It is narrow. On the right used to be a glue factory. Must've smelled horrible way back when.
Captain Suki and First Mate, Galley Cook, Cabin Boy Willie.
Leaving the map with Suki so she can navigate, we now begin a quick tour of the narrowboat.
Coming in the stern hatch, we immediately come to the living area. The hole on the ground is to be connected to metal poles (currently stowed away) on top of which we set a board (hanging on the wall to the right in the picture) to make a table. This narrowboat has more room than either of the hotel rooms we stayed in Britain, and is better equipped (with a microwave and a TV that received digital broadcasts) than our apartment.
The honeymoon suite at the bow. The lower right of the photo is a small ladder that leads to a hatch from which one can get on the starboard side gunwale.
We now turn around and go back through the narrow passageway on the starboard side. Since the passageway is on the starboard side, the port side has most of the cabinets, sinks, showerhead, etc, and so the boat constantly lists a bit to the port side.
The biggest bathroom we get on our honeymoon. The shower does not drain. The water accumulates in the small tub and one has to hit the shower-pump switch (the left one in the picture) to pump the water out of the tub. The shower and sinks all drain into the canal (so don't drink the canal water), but the toilet empties into a sewage tank. A not inconsiderable amount of time during the training session was on how to properly operate the toilet and sewage tank.
The kitchen is fully equpped with pots and pans and plates and mugs and glasses... in fact in many points better equipped then my kitchen at home. It also has a four-burner stove, as well as a gas grill and a gas oven.
Since we started out a bit late on Monday (around 6pm or so), we moored at around 8:30 near Foxton and went to the Black Horse to get dinner. The food is unremarkable but in sizeable portions, and they stand out because they serve Fish'n'chips with a salad, unlike the boiled peas most other places serve. This place also starts our observation that waitresses in British countryside pubs are generally clueless: this girl didn't know what ales they have on tap.
A little odd, perhaps? The narrowboat comes with a folder of informative material about boat maintenance and vacation planning. Among the flyers and brochures is this, a brochure for a Chinese Restaurant/English Freehouse. Reminds me strongly of the Taiwanese Fish and Chip Shop in Princeton that now became Tomo Sushi.
On the left is the Foxton Pedestrian Swing Bridge. Usually the first swing bridge one comes across coming out of Market Harborough is the Foxton Swing Bridge, a bit East of the Black Horse. But a lorry hit the bridge a few days before, and the bridge has been stuck in the open position ever since (until British Waterways get their act together and fixes it). To operate the swing bridge, one unlocks a white handle bar, pulls the bar up to unlock the bridge from its closed position, and pushes the white lever clockwise (looking from above) to open the waterway. Like almost everything on the canals, the bridge is unlocked using the BW key issued to all properly licensed boat, and which can be used to operate any swing/draw bridges, and any of the water pumps.
The Daisy is getting in line to go up the Foxton Locks. We'll follow them later. We began the second day on the canal by going to Foxton proper and getting ready to go up the Locks.
The Foxton Locks Inn. Very good food, and has Old Speckled Hen on tap. Not too expensive, as competition with Bridge 61 Pub across the canal is a bit fierce. We stopped here for a snack on our return trip.
This way leads to the Inclined Plane. The inclined plane was an attempt to haul barges up the vertical distance via a steam engine and a conveyer belt, rather than going through the Foxton Locks (which are a bit narrow and wastes a lot of water, never mind the 45minute minimum transit time and the up to 2 hour wait before going into the locks). Unfortunately, two years after finishing, the locomotive was invented and rapidly replaced barges as the main method of transporting goods. The inclined plane has long been abandoned. Now we just see a slope full of grass.
While we wait for our turn through the locks (the locks only allow one way traffice at a time), the crew of Daisy decides to have a pint at Bridge 61 Pub.
We made it to the top! The lock keeper was a very kind fellow with a nice beer belly. He showed me exactly how to operate the locks. Very educational. The boat moored behind ours is Hartley's Best. They are also first timers and coincidentally chose much the same travel plan as we did. So we'll see them a few more times on our trip.
As we came up, a line formed above the locks waiting to come down.
This is the Foxton Top Lock. The top and bottom locks are single paddle: the water levels equilibriates directly with the canal. The mechanism there on the other side of the gate is to operate the paddle: one hooks a windlass onto the mechanism and turns. Currently the gate is in the open position as evident by the raised pole protruding from the top, letting water from the section of the canal between Foxton and Watford into the lock.
Locks 2-9 are two-paddled. This is rather unique among British canal locks, a consequence of the steep incline at Foxton and Watford (making the section of the Grand Union Canal between the two villages among the highest elevation that boats can navigate). Because of the incline, there is a need for many consecutive locks. To conserve water and make it less likely that a lock will run dry, there are side ponds for water reserve. The mantra is “red-then-white”: first open the red paddle to bring the water between the holding pond and the lock beneath the gate to a equilibrium, then open the white paddle. Currently both paddles are closed.
Even though the locks was built in 1802, the gates need to be replaced rather often. These gates were last replaced in 1999, and are already leaking quite a bit. (Nothing to worry about: the since all the locks leak, none of them will run dry.)
Suki is happy with her ice cream.
Between locks 5 and 6 is a passing pond. To conserve water, when the traffic volume is low, the lock keeper often sends one boat down and one boat up at the same time, passing each other in the this pond. The little ditch in the upper right is for overflow: every one of the ponds over flows to the one below. On the return trip for some reason (possibly a mistake by a boater) one of the ponds run dry. All the lock keeper needed to do to amend the situation is to open the white paddle near the top lock to let water into the side pond between locks 9 and 10, and it trickles down to fill the empty pond.
The Olivia
First Mate Willie takes over operations while the Captain takes a bathroom break. My right hand is on the tiller, and my left hand is near the throttle. From the position the throttle is in, it seems like the picture was taken when we were using close to minimal throttle, going a slightly below 2 MPH. As our driving skills get better, we got more adventurous in the trip, going as fast as 3.5MPH in some stretches.
I swear there are more sheep than people in Leicestershire. The introduction video we watched promised plenty of “wild life”, but all we saw are mostly sheep.
Two different methods of grazing.
Near the center is a church spire. It looked at lot more impressive in person than in the picture. That way is the village of Husbands Bosworth.
Along the tow path are many signs pointing to pubs. Presumeably because many vacationers care not to cook for themselves.
Heading in to the Husbands Bosworth tunnel. It is just over 1 kilometer long. (The Crick tunnel which we will pass on Thusday is 1.4 kilometers.)
We spent our honeymoon bringing a long narrowboat into a tunnel. And then out again. In and out. In and out.
On the wall in the tunnel are these fluorescent tags, pointing toward the nearest exit. My guess is that they “recharge” when the headlights on the boat shines on them.
This is on the port side, this means we've been in the tunnel for 300 meters now.
We actually didn't know how long the tunnel was when we entered (we were smarter by the time we got to Crick and found out the length before entering). It felt like an interminable darkness in the Husbands Bosworth tunnel, the only indication of progress is these distance/escape direction markers. Originally we thought to use the size of the light at the end of the tunnel as a guide, but after the first five minutes, we realized that the light on the other end doesn't seem to be getting any bigger, and the light on our end has already gotten quite small...
We were rather relieved to have come to the halfway point.
Yay! Daylight once again!
A Map! We started from Market Harborough in the far right and followed the canal to Foxton, where we moored for the first night. The second day we went up the locks and through the tunnel (near the center of the map) to moor just north of the junction. On our return leg we went through Foxton Locks again on Saturday, and continued north a bit to Saddington, just south of the tunnel shown on the map that is to the north of Foxton Locks. And Sunday we drove back to Market Harborough.
The third day we hit the junction, first turned left to visit Welford, then turning back and continued south past the bottom of this picture (and the Crick tunnel)
coming through the Crick tunnel (near center of the map) we moored for the night. Thursday we went down the Watford locks and hit the junction on the map, upon which we stopped, had a snack, and turned back up. We stopped thursday just north of the Crick tunnel at a village called Yelvertoft (where you see the canal makes an upside down U a bit north of the Crick tunnel). At the village we procured some more groceries, as well as some tasty lamb steaks. Friday saw us up through Husbands Bosworth tunnel and we stopped just south of Foxton locks.
Suki making breakfast on Wednesday.
Our boat is moored. To do so at places with out permanent berths, we drive a stake into the grass next to the tow-pathand tie the boat up on it. The plastic bags serves as a warning to hikers not to trip or bump their toe.
Our boat is called Mine's A Pint. This has been a great conversation starter with people we pass.
This is the entrance to Welford Marina. The footbridge has to be high enough to let yachts through. While we were moored here, it got a bit rainy and the ground softened. As a result a slightly fast moving boat passing ours put out enough of a wake that the mooring spike was pulled out of the ground. We lost the mooring spike to the bottom of the canal, but luckily our boat did not go adrift.
In the town of Welford there is a bulletin board... Something of interest that I only found out after we returned to the boat (and so, after losing a mooring stake, was disinclined to go back to town to visit the graves) was that Michael Ventris, one of the scholars involved in the decipherment of Linear B, lived in Welford at the time, and was buried in the local graveyard after his car accident.
The Welford Arm of the Grand Union Canal is the highest navigable waters on the British canal system. It is one step higher than the Foxton-Watford line. On returning toward the Leicester line between Foxton and Watford, we need to go down a single lock.
Suki watching to make sure we are in front of the cill line. The white markings on the side of the walls right behind a gate marks how much the cill (by custom they spelled it cill instead of sill on the canal) from the higher step extends into the locks. It is nothing to worry about when going up (going up, the pilot needs to worry that the water rushing in from above the locks will rock the boat forward and backward, and may cause damage if the boat is allowed to be carried into the gates); but if the stern gets caught on the cill coming down as the water level decreases, it can cause much embarassment and damage.
The top paddle is down, the bottom gate paddles are open.
Willie the windlass master.
We passed a couple boats on the river with wind-power generator. This one also has a solar panel on the roof. Usually one needs to drive the boat for at least 4 hours a day for the diesel engine to recharge the battery banks so the lights and TV will work in the night when we are moored. Alternative methods of power generation alleviates that need somewhat.
Fuzzballs! They are actually called moorhens, but we didn't know until we looked on Wikipedia when we got back. On the trip we referred to them as fuzzballs because of the really cute juveniles. Between fuzzballs and ducks, they accounted for almost all of the non-insect wild life we saw on the trip. Cows and Sheep are not wild.
“I am cow, hear me moo, I weigh twice as much as you...”
Run, baby fuzzball, run!
About to enter the Crick tunnel.
Our rings.
After the slightly rainy Wednesday, Thursday returned us to good weather.
The southern-most point of our journey: Norton Junction.
If it weren't for the rain on Wednesday, we probably would've gone under that bridge and attempt to make it to Braunston. Not being able to make it to (and thus through) the Watford locks on Wednesday effectively stopped that plan.
While we try to turn around, another boat came.
Willie trying to keep 14 tons of wood in place while the other boat passes.
There are a series of locks between Norton Junction and “the other way”. These locks are wide enough to fit two narrowboats at a time. The white building in the background slighly to the right is the New Inn, where Suki and I had some unremarkable pub food and some pretty good drinks: she had a local cider, and I had a local blonde ale called the Sunchaser.
That dog reminds me of the mascot of the Seadog brewing company.
“No dog fouling” is the proper British interdiction.
Heading back to our boat after our lunch at the New Inn. Ours is the one closest to us in the picture. The one immediately in front is Hartley's Best. Told you we'll see them again.
Going back through Crick tunnel, Suki dons the Towel of +5 Dryness. Crick tunnel was dug underneath quick sand. First, this makes engineering difficult, as the tunnel changed shape as they dug it. Second, this means that until now it still drips a lot of water. Legend has it that the captain of one narrowboat once filled a kettle with dripping water and made tea.
Aren't the moorhens cute?
A duck about to make a landing (or should I say a watering?)
The ducks are enterprising. Unlike the moorhens who are positively scared away by any motion from the boat, the mommy ducks teach the baby ducks at a young age that the proper thing to do is to meet the boat head on, and then group up behind the tiller...
... to get in formation to chase the boat and beg for food. Ducks are amazing swimmers. Ducklings doubly so. At the sight of a bread crumb the ducklings can put on a burst of speed and cover 2 meters in one second just to get to the food.
Friday, despite the weather forecast, didn't rain.
We made it back to the junction with the Welford arm.
Interloper!
Saturday, while waiting for the locks, we decided to top up on water. The hosepipe (the British term that we learned one week earlier from watching Whose Line Is It Anyway) runs to our watertank from a British Waterways Watering Pump. Which requires a BW key (mentioned earlier) to unlock. We top off on water every day.
While waiting for the water, we also entertained some ducks.
After filling up on water, we moved the boat to a point where we won't block the watering point for other boats. Willie re-moors the boat.
And the ducks came back.
Brazen hussy!
Now the hubby joins in.
What's going on here?
Whadya say we make a break for it?
On second thought, they creature there with the flashies look positively threatening.
Really? That food there sure looks yummy.
And Hartley's Best catches up to us while we entertain the ducks.
We decided to get rid of the dook infestation.
They then joined forces and went to bother the crew of Hartley's Best.
Part of the “other” non-insect wild life we saw.
The other part of the “other”. Saturday was wet. My sweater was completely soaked while operating the locks. After stopping near Saddington, we walked through the slightly muddy tow path in search of a place at which to celebrate Suki's birthday. Along the way we saw plenty of large black slugs. This one appeared to be pooping.
Everards is a local Leicestershire brew. I had the Original. Suki had the Tiger.
Dinner was at the Queen's Head. The waitress there further confirmed our suspicion that countryside pubs have ignorant waitstaff. But the food (Steak and Ale pie, raspberry pavlova, and coffee mandarin cake) was good.
The pub was also award winning... that's why we specifically sought it out.
Sunday was windy. Not just everyday windy. Winnie-the-Pooh and the blustery day windy.
There are three types of commands to slow: slow down, slow right down, and dead slow.
A view out of the window right before the wind pinned our boat to the tow path. Took a bit of effort to extricate ourselves. A long and narrow boat versus a cross wind: not very good odds.
Back in London. This is a guest room above the Portobello Gold pub on, again, Portobello Road in Notting Hill.
Another flat panel TV: they are all the rage.
An electric kettle.
A toilet with a mechanical digester.
and really efficient use of space! The sink is inside the shower.
We went back to the British museum in the afternoon.
Really big books, and a nice butt.
Wedgewood (the same company that still exists today)
Something that reminded me of Monty Python's foot.
These collection were part of the King's Library that George III assembled for scholars everywhere. After he died, George IV donated it to the British museum, hence the mark of G IV R on the ceiling.
A fake mermaid mummy made from half of a monkey and half of a fish. You can figure out which half's which.
A Fu-Hu. (Lucky Teapot)
Now we head to the Egyptian collection. A cute hippo.
The British museum has lots of mummies.
The Portobello Gold
