Nev looked stunned last night when we told him we were going to leave at half-past seven. When the blood returned to his cheeks he questioned our sanity but confirmed that he’d definitely be up to farewell us but something in his eyes suggested complete scepticism regarding our plan.
So it was that after Mr P began to choof at precisely then, we had time to bring in our mooring lines and electricity before he peered through his companionway, bleary eyed and even more bemused than he was when last we saw him.
“I thought you were joking” he protested through a sleepy grin, still unable to equate boating with movement barely past first light, but we weren’t.
Our early start was in vain however, as we caught up with Jan and Toby at a malfunctioning lock well short of our destination and decided that if we had to wait for a few hours on the very edge of the exclusion zone of industrially beautiful but apparently not harmless in the event of an accident Solvay factory, then we may as well stay the night.