Easter snapshot

Now where were we? Ah yes, planning a Saturday ‘from bottom to top of the Weaver’ cruise…Well, that was always going to happen, not. We got seduced by the sun at Barnton and pulled over onto an empty mooring at 2pm, whipping out the chairs for a bit of reading, dozing and footie listening. Our plans had earlier become unraveled anyway as we couldn’t fit under Newbridge swingbridge, forcing us to turn well before Winsford. The compensation was that it was a glorious morning and although it became noticeably busier at Hunts Lock and Northwich with boats heading Vale Royal-wards, there was still a free spot on the town quay that enabled me to do a quick bit of shopping. Then we were off again, with revised intentions of going to Dutton but as I said, the siren call of the grassy bank at Barnton meant that it was a foreshortened cruising day. However, we reasoned that we could equally well go to Weston Point and back to Dutton on Easter Monday, as we had a lunch date with friends in Nantwich on Sunday. And as luck would have it, the car was only parked up in the village so it did all work out for the best really.

Sunday’s strategy was to take the dogs on a mammoth walk before we left them for the afternoon and after 2 1/2 hours tootling along in warm sunshine, they were absolutely shattered – well, not so shattered that they didn’t take a good close look at Neo the Great Dane who was frolicking by the boat on our return. But a look seemed to do the trick as you could see their little doggie minds all realizing the same thing at the same time – he’s very big and I’m very tired, just let me by please. They were still in a fairly somnolent state when we returned a few hours later, which made seven of us actually, as we both had eaten far too much and were just aching for a lie down. In fact, after dinners and wees (dogs), everyone just drifted off to bed and the boat’s complement was asleep by about 9pm. My slight gastro-discomfort, which is still lurking 24 hours later, I put down to my wanting to be a good guest – well, if your host has gone to the trouble of cooking two roasts and enough veg to feed a battalion, it would be a mite rude just to help yourself to half a sprout and a mange (pas) tout. And to refuse a chocolate torte as well….I’d never get asked back.

So for today’s trip to Weston Point and back to Dutton we have been well fuelled, I can say that. Turkey, lamb, roast pots, parsnips, sweet potato, babycorn, greens, carrots, etc etc, they’ve kept me going throughout and I daresay will see me through to tomorrow now too. (Oh and the Cadbury’s mini-eggs we had with coffee afterwards were soooo tasty…all the better for not having had any for months, methinks!).Obviously this was my second trip to the northernmost stretch of the Weaver but A was very excited to see it for the first time, and thanks to a new floating pontoon that’s been installed since last weekend at Marsh Lock, we were able to have a good recce of the Ship Canal too. The dogs weren’t impressed with the pontoon though, its odd surface causing much clawing uncertainty and a couple of 4 fault refusals. Eventually though they all made it up safely and we went off for a look-see-cum-wee-stop.

Now whether it was the wind that’s been with us pretty much all day or the salt in the air (there must be salt, given the briny nature of the whole place!), we’re both sitting here with crusty old sea-dog faces – you know the sort, when your eyelids feel gritty and your face is all reddy-brown bar the white wrinkles round your eyes. It’ll no doubt prompt the usual question when we get back home, oooh look at the colour on you, where have you been? The Carribbean?, to which I will reply, with a perfectly straight face, no, Runcorn.