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Post by Deleted on Aug 31, 2020 18:24:08 GMT
Well I must say, Peterborough is a nice little town, but by the time I got back to the boat after my extended shopping trip (which included a half-decent waterproof jacket and a brolly), I was too tired to care about how nice it was (Cut me a break here, I'm still re-learning to use my legs for walking, after 4 decades of essentially using a car the way a dalek uses their vehicle (except I didn't have guns on my car, more's the pity). Doing everything on foot is a most unwelcome revelation, and although I'm sure its good for me, I'm beginning to worry about wearing out my feet within the next year or so. So I staggered into the boat after my two hour traipse, heavily laden with many bags of things to improve my austere and grim existence (including a few small table lamps btw, as the roof LEDs make the lounge look like a police station, at least to my effete tastes). Without unpacking anything except the large packet of pastrami (because why not), I left Peterborough behind without stopping for lunch, That is most unlike me, but the queues to get into every single eatery were simply too long to comtemplate, and I had to get a shift on. My objective was to find a quiet mooring with some semblance of phone signal for my first day back at work tomorrow, so I pressed on, at what for my boat is a fair clip. However, it appeared that most of the population of Peterborough had followed me, because within 5 minutes of arriving at Orton Lock, a large crowd of gongoozlers (I think the collective noun should be a 'murder' of gongoozlers) had assembled to watch my first solo locking. Aided by a boaty gongoozler (the father of seven child gongoozlers who declined to participate), the locking mercifully went without a hitch (although my God it took an age to fill- it never took this long on youtube). As we waited for the lock to fill, and I uncharacteristically ran out of polite things to say, the father gongoozler tentatively confessed that he'd always wanted to take a look inside a narrowboat, and I felt it would be churlish to deny him- so I said yes of course, simoultaneously trying to assess the level of chaos and unpleasantness within the boat. Once I was through and everything was set correctly, the family trooped over to the landing stage and did the boat tour (in groups- its a bit narrow- well its a narrow boat, of course) I tried in vain to stand in front of the unwashed coffee cup on the worktop (I hadnt stopped since Peterborough), and my heart sank as they took in the plastic bags of shopping, a towel that was trying in vain to dry on a chair, and an assortment of things that had no business cluttering up the lounge. But they all seemed very impressed, I must say. My feeling of goodwill was somewhat tempered when I realised that before I left Peterborough I'd taken off my 'public' shirt and donned my 'working' shirt, and I'd been stood next to the father in said 'working' shirt, which I hadn't had time to replace this morning, and had worn through extended tribulations on two successive days. My problem, with no sense of smell, is that I completely forgot my golden rule- never stand next to a civilian in an enclosed space in my 'working' shirt. I have no doubt it smelled fairly significantly, and the poor chap must have all but gagged as I stood next to him extolling the virtues of my flyscreen windows. Moral of the story- never stand within ten feet of a civilian in your working shirt. Better still, don't have a working shirt. Just wear clean clothes all the time.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 31, 2020 18:29:00 GMT
Great narrative, but may I respectfully suggest you break it up a bit? Long paragraphs with no space is hard to read. The punch lines get a bit lost too.
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Post by metanoia on Aug 31, 2020 18:36:06 GMT
Well I must say, Peterborough is a nice little town, but by the time I got back to the boat after my extended shopping trip (which included a half-decent waterproof jacket and a brolly), I was too tired to care about how nice it was (Cut me a break here, I'm still re-learning to use my legs for walking, after 4 decades of essentially using a car the way a dalek uses their vehicle (except I didn't have guns on my car, more's the pity). Doing everything on foot is a most unwelcome revelation, and although I'm sure its good for me, I'm beginning to worry about wearing out my feet within the next year or so. So I staggered into the boat after my two hour traipse, heavily laden with many bags of things to improve my austere and grim existence (including a few small table lamps btw, as the roof LEDs make the lounge look like a police station, at least to my effete tastes). Without unpacking anything except the large packet of pastrami (because why not), I left Peterborough behind without stopping for lunch, That is most unlike me, but the queues to get into every single eatery were simply too long to comtemplate, and I had to get a shift on. My objective was to find a quiet mooring with some semblance of phone signal for my first day back at work tomorrow, so I pressed on, at what for my boat is a fair clip. However, it appeared that most of the population of Peterborough had followed me, because within 5 minutes of arriving at Orton Lock, a large crowd of gongoozlers (I think the collective noun should be a 'murder' of gongoozlers) had assembled to watch my first solo locking. Aided by a boaty gongoozler (the father of seven child gongoozlers who declined to participate), the locking mercifully went without a hitch (although my God it took an age to fill- it never took this long on youtube). As we waited for the lock to fill, and I uncharacteristically ran out of polite things to say, the father gongoozler tentatively confessed that he'd always wanted to take a look inside a narrowboat, and I felt it would be churlish to deny him- so I said yes of course, simoultaneously trying to assess the level of chaos and unpleasantness within the boat. Once I was through and everything was set correctly, the family trooped over to the landing stage and did the boat tour (in groups- its a bit narrow- well its a narrow boat, of course) I tried in vain to stand in front of the unwashed coffee cup on the worktop (I hadnt stopped since Peterborough), and my heart sank as they took in the plastic bags of shopping, a towel that was trying in vain to dry on a chair, and an assortment of things that had no business cluttering up the lounge. But they all seemed very impressed, I must say. My feeling of goodwill was somewhat tempered when I realised that before I left Peterborough I'd taken off my 'public' shirt and donned my 'working' shirt, and I'd been stood next to the father in said 'working' shirt, which I hadn't had time to replace this morning, and had worn through extended tribulations on two successive days. My problem, with no sense of smell, is that I completely forgot my golden rule- never stand next to a civilian in an enclosed space in my 'working' shirt. I have no doubt it smelled fairly significantly, and the poor chap must have all but gagged as I stood next to him extolling the virtues of my flyscreen windows. Moral of the story- never stand within ten feet of a civilian in your working shirt. Better still, don't have a working shirt. Just wear clean clothes all the time. Bless you! I stand corrected - first impressions CAN and do change. Good luck and hope to see you before too very long. Keep safe, well and sane x eta - LESSON ONE - don't give a sh*t what the others think LESSON TWO - it's all down to you x
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Post by Deleted on Aug 31, 2020 18:37:49 GMT
Great narrative, but may I respectfully suggest you break it up a bit? Long paragraphs with no space is hard to read. The punch lines get a bit lost too. By all means Mr Chagall, although I would beg your patience and indulgence on this occasion. I have travelled far and endured much today at the hands of merciless gongoozlers, and I wanted to scribble a few thoughts quickly before I faint away with canal fatigue. Where did I leave the smelling salts...
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Post by Clinton Cool on Aug 31, 2020 18:40:21 GMT
Rule number 1 of boating: never allow anyone into your boat. The only exception being women, and a fellow boater, if you become particularly friendly with them.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 31, 2020 18:44:26 GMT
An acquaintance, whilst locking into Stratford, agreed to a guided tour of the boat by three attractive Spanish ladies. On mooring in Bancroft basin shortly after, he discovered his wallet and phone were missing. Whilst not wishing to be a prophet of doom it may be worth considering. Most people are genuine and exactly what they seem ... but the bad 'uns don't come with labels attached Glad the adventure's going well. Rog
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Post by Deleted on Aug 31, 2020 18:50:18 GMT
Well I must say, Peterborough is a nice little town, but by the time I got back to the boat after my extended shopping trip (which included a half-decent waterproof jacket and a brolly), I was too tired to care about how nice it was (Cut me a break here, I'm still re-learning to use my legs for walking, after 4 decades of essentially using a car the way a dalek uses their vehicle (except I didn't have guns on my car, more's the pity). Doing everything on foot is a most unwelcome revelation, and although I'm sure its good for me, I'm beginning to worry about wearing out my feet within the next year or so. So I staggered into the boat after my two hour traipse, heavily laden with many bags of things to improve my austere and grim existence (including a few small table lamps btw, as the roof LEDs make the lounge look like a police station, at least to my effete tastes). Without unpacking anything except the large packet of pastrami (because why not), I left Peterborough behind without stopping for lunch, That is most unlike me, but the queues to get into every single eatery were simply too long to comtemplate, and I had to get a shift on. My objective was to find a quiet mooring with some semblance of phone signal for my first day back at work tomorrow, so I pressed on, at what for my boat is a fair clip. However, it appeared that most of the population of Peterborough had followed me, because within 5 minutes of arriving at Orton Lock, a large crowd of gongoozlers (I think the collective noun should be a 'murder' of gongoozlers) had assembled to watch my first solo locking. Aided by a boaty gongoozler (the father of seven child gongoozlers who declined to participate), the locking mercifully went without a hitch (although my God it took an age to fill- it never took this long on youtube). As we waited for the lock to fill, and I uncharacteristically ran out of polite things to say, the father gongoozler tentatively confessed that he'd always wanted to take a look inside a narrowboat, and I felt it would be churlish to deny him- so I said yes of course, simoultaneously trying to assess the level of chaos and unpleasantness within the boat. Once I was through and everything was set correctly, the family trooped over to the landing stage and did the boat tour (in groups- its a bit narrow- well its a narrow boat, of course) I tried in vain to stand in front of the unwashed coffee cup on the worktop (I hadnt stopped since Peterborough), and my heart sank as they took in the plastic bags of shopping, a towel that was trying in vain to dry on a chair, and an assortment of things that had no business cluttering up the lounge. But they all seemed very impressed, I must say. My feeling of goodwill was somewhat tempered when I realised that before I left Peterborough I'd taken off my 'public' shirt and donned my 'working' shirt, and I'd been stood next to the father in said 'working' shirt, which I hadn't had time to replace this morning, and had worn through extended tribulations on two successive days. My problem, with no sense of smell, is that I completely forgot my golden rule- never stand next to a civilian in an enclosed space in my 'working' shirt. I have no doubt it smelled fairly significantly, and the poor chap must have all but gagged as I stood next to him extolling the virtues of my flyscreen windows. Moral of the story- never stand within ten feet of a civilian in your working shirt. Better still, don't have a working shirt. Just wear clean clothes all the time. Bless you! I stand corrected - first impressions CAN and do change. Good luck and hope to see you before too very long. Keep safe, well and sane x eta - LESSON ONE - don't give a sh*t what the others think LESSON TWO - it's all down to you x Thanks Metanoia, thats very kind of you. I'll be in Cheshire before December for a few months, but next year I'm going to do some travelling- no idea where yet though. It would be great to meet up some time, and I'm hoping to meet up with a few of the folks from the forum on my travels. I;'m hoping Ricco has a local Cheshire pub in mind for a session, when I finally get there! One thing I never saw coming coming though- I don't know if this happens on CRT canals so much, but every single child and most of the adults have waved at me as I passed. I've nearly hit the bank a few times in the act of waving to a passing family- and when you arrive at a lock, you become a tourist attraction! The other thing is how nice 90% of the boaters are- everyone talks about it, but its another things when you see it in person
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Post by Deleted on Aug 31, 2020 18:54:41 GMT
Two words. --
Social
Distance
--
Stay alert. Saves lives. And something else I forgot what it was.
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Post by metanoia on Aug 31, 2020 18:56:32 GMT
Bless you! I stand corrected - first impressions CAN and do change. Good luck and hope to see you before too very long. Keep safe, well and sane x eta - LESSON ONE - don't give a sh*t what the others think LESSON TWO - it's all down to you x Thanks Metanoia, thats very kind of you. I'll be in Cheshire before December for a few months, but next year I'm going to do some travelling- no idea where yet though. It would be great to meet up some time, and I'm hoping to meet up with a few of the folks from the forum on my travels. I;'m hoping Ricco has a local Cheshire pub in mind for a session, when I finally get there! One thing I never saw coming coming though- I don't know if this happens on CRT canals so much, but every single child and most of the adults have waved at me as I passed. I've nearly hit the bank a few times in the act of waving to a passing family- and when you arrive at a lock, you become a tourist attraction! The other thing is how nice 90% of the boaters are- everyone talks about it, but its another things when you see it in person So glad you're having a good(ish!!) time. I understand your wonderment at how very friendly people are when you're on your boat - however, it eventually becomes such second nature that you find yourself appearing like a freak if and when you venture off the towpath - they back off and give you strange looks on a pavement or bus .... just go with the flow and enjoy it while you can. Keep safe, well and sane x Keep enjoying your journey and hope to say hello when we pass
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Post by Deleted on Aug 31, 2020 18:58:26 GMT
Rule number 1 of boating: never allow anyone into your boat. The only exception being women, and a fellow boater, if you become particularly friendly with them. I can see your point on this Ricco, but since the boat is now my home, I'm trying to take the approach that if I would have invited person X into my house, then I'd like to think I'd be ok inviting that same person into my boat. In retrospect, I realised my spare phone and bank card (and various other things) were all lying on the worktop whilst these folks were milling about, and I was probably way too lax in not putting important stuff away before letting them aboard.
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Post by metanoia on Aug 31, 2020 18:59:26 GMT
Two words. -- Social Distance -- Stay alert. Saves lives. And something else I forgot what it was. I believe in the 80s (when you were in nappies) it was be A LERT - Britain needs lerts?
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Post by Deleted on Aug 31, 2020 18:59:29 GMT
I don't know if this happens on CRT canals so much, but every single child and most of the adults have waved at me as I passed. I've nearly hit the bank a few times in the act of waving to a passing family- and when you arrive at a lock, you become a tourist attraction! The other thing is how nice 90% of the boaters are- everyone talks about it, but its another things when you see it in person I've always liked the waving thing and firmly believe it's really good. I wave at 100% of other boaters. They don't always wave back. If I see kids waving I will wave at them. Adults holding kids hands and making them wave are met with a volley of aggressive swearing over the PA system. Over the years waving seems to have become a little less common, I notice lately more people doing a little nod instead. I prefer the waving.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 31, 2020 19:00:24 GMT
Two words. -- Social Distance -- Stay alert. Saves lives. And something else I forgot what it was. I believe in the 80s (when you were in nappies) it was be A LERT - Britain needs lerts? I was 6 in 1980
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Post by Deleted on Aug 31, 2020 19:02:01 GMT
An acquaintance, whilst locking into Stratford, agreed to a guided tour of the boat by three attractive Spanish ladies. On mooring in Bancroft basin shortly after, he discovered his wallet and phone were missing. Whilst not wishing to be a prophet of doom it may be worth considering. Most people are genuine and exactly what they seem ... but the bad 'uns don't come with labels attached Glad the adventure's going well. Rog This is a very good point Rog- I'd been talking to the chap for half an hour and I was satisfied that he was a straight-up person, but you can always be wrong- or one of his children might be a wrong 'un. How have I survived this long??!
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Post by Deleted on Aug 31, 2020 19:03:44 GMT
Two words. -- Social Distance -- Stay alert. Saves lives. And something else I forgot what it was. That is a very, very good point. It is a very confined space, and I am too old to catch that bloody virus
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