We set off early, with the vague idea of replicating the day we had just spent, intent on staying in a village we had visited by bike a few years ago at the end of a short disused branch canal, but ti appears we had not accounted for just how disused it had become.
This left us with a choice of staying for the night at the junction, or going just a little bit further. Normally it would have been no contest, we have made the “little bit further” mistake before.
But the water on our route today was spectacularly clear, so clear that every detail of the canal bottom was visible and we were compelled to keep going albeit ever so slowly, as if propelled by an invisible force. Plants and fish idled past as we slowed to match them. We watched fascinated as water voles swam below us and alongside, perhaps equally fascinated to be watching us with the cover of a metre of water. At times we were simply gliding on air, looking down on an aquarium.
We could have kept going forever.
If it hadn't been for a lock in the way we may not have noticed when the tunnel turned up, a giant gateway to the other side of the hill. The tug which once towed us through is no longer in operation, so now we go through under our own steam, but bizarrely in the company of a man on a bicycle, presumably to ensure we don’t take a wrong turn somewhere along it’s five kilometre length.
This is how the cruising mindset comes unstuck; We had had a glorious morning, it was almost lunch time, and we arrived just in time to make the scheduled departure time for vessels heading in our direction through the tunnel. Perhaps we should have said "No thanks, we'll see you in the morning." Perhaps we didn't because we felt sorry for the guy on the bike, having to ride into the blackness alone, but we didn't.
We just kept on trucking, as they say about another form of transport. We did stop at the first opportunity there after though, still marvelling at the clarity of the water. The magic was still there.
But we probably need need a day off to counteract the effects of travelling twenty kilometres in a single day.
This left us with a choice of staying for the night at the junction, or going just a little bit further. Normally it would have been no contest, we have made the “little bit further” mistake before.
But the water on our route today was spectacularly clear, so clear that every detail of the canal bottom was visible and we were compelled to keep going albeit ever so slowly, as if propelled by an invisible force. Plants and fish idled past as we slowed to match them. We watched fascinated as water voles swam below us and alongside, perhaps equally fascinated to be watching us with the cover of a metre of water. At times we were simply gliding on air, looking down on an aquarium.
We could have kept going forever.
If it hadn't been for a lock in the way we may not have noticed when the tunnel turned up, a giant gateway to the other side of the hill. The tug which once towed us through is no longer in operation, so now we go through under our own steam, but bizarrely in the company of a man on a bicycle, presumably to ensure we don’t take a wrong turn somewhere along it’s five kilometre length.
This is how the cruising mindset comes unstuck; We had had a glorious morning, it was almost lunch time, and we arrived just in time to make the scheduled departure time for vessels heading in our direction through the tunnel. Perhaps we should have said "No thanks, we'll see you in the morning." Perhaps we didn't because we felt sorry for the guy on the bike, having to ride into the blackness alone, but we didn't.
We just kept on trucking, as they say about another form of transport. We did stop at the first opportunity there after though, still marvelling at the clarity of the water. The magic was still there.
But we probably need need a day off to counteract the effects of travelling twenty kilometres in a single day.
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