It’s autumn on the Shropshire Union

It really feels that as we have entered September, we have entered autumn. I am waking up in the dark for the first time since March. It rains every day. I am wearing a top as well as a t shirt. I have even started wearing jeans instead of shorts.

So what is good about narrowboating in autumn?

Well one thing is the light. The sunrises and sunsets are just so beautiful. We are currently traveling in the middle of the Shropshire countryside and I look forward to walking the dogs each morning.

Another thing I love is my fellow boaters on the canal. I enjoy boating with the novices during the summer. But it is great at this time of year when my fellow boaters have a little more experience and knowledge. I spent an evening in a proper boaters pub yesterday, geeking out about the life with people who have lived on board since childhood.

And finally, best of all in autumn the insects start to die off. The sunny days have been nice this summer, but the horse flies and wasps less so. I have a boat full of spiders, which helps, but a few frosts will help even more.

But as we head towards winter, there is one thing I am not looking forward to, and that is muddy towpaths. Narrowboats are easy to clean, because they are small, but it is an uphill battle when the dogs bring in their dirty footprints every time they go out.

So what is in like in the “real” world? Are you enjoying autumn too, or missing the sun?

The best of weather, the worst of weather

What a week for weather. In Lancashire we have missed the heavy snows of Scotland, but we have had torrential rain, floods, hail, hard ice and frost. Some of the worst weather all year. And yet, as the old year has become a new one, the weather changed and this morning we woke to the kind of cold crisp day that is my favourite.

It reminded me of the best ski days, the ones they call bluebird days, when the snow is fresh, the pistes are groomed, there is no wind, the temperature is cold, and the sun is shining. I am missing skiing this year. We have a week planned in Lanzarote later in January when I know we will have a lovely time in the warmth. But for me, nothing beats coming down the first piste of the day, when the skis through the corrugated snow making a sound like a sharp knife cutting through paper.

And that first stop of the day, at a mountain cafe, for a mulled wine, a beer or a cold coke. Your thighs tingling from exercise they are not used to. Your nose tingling from the cold. Your fingers tingling after removing the gloves.

But it is such a risk booking a ski holiday since climate change has altered the weather. A week looking out at green mountains is a waste. Worse, a week looking out at a blizzard that is unskiable.

So I will enjoy my week in the sun. And get on with unpacking more boxes for our new house. And remember happy times on the slopes

Maybe next year. If the weather is good enough.

It’s Cold!

After a month travelling through Europe in largely sunny warm weather, it has been a shock to return to the cold of Britain. This morning it was -6°C when I took the dogs for their walk. Winter has certainly arrived.

We have a bit more of a challenge on the narrowboat because our “bubble” diesel stove is not working properly, It is not getting to temperature and so sooting up. I need to find an engineer in Staffordshire who can fix it. We still have the “Webasto” diesel boiler so all is not lost and we can get a pretty cozy boat during the day. Overnight we turn the heating off so it does get pretty chilly but underneath the duvet and blanket it still feels safe and warm.

People often ask me how we live on a narrowboat in cold weather. It is after all a single skinned steel tube. But the reality is that the airspace is so small that it warms up pretty quickly. Hot weather in the summer is much more of a problem, when it can get like an oven. Not something we need to worry about this week!

It is a simple life on a boat. You soon realise what really matters. Staying warm in the cold. Staying cool in the heat. Making sure there is water. Making sure you can use a toilet. Getting food in the cupboard. In return we get a lot for free. Beautiful mornings and evenings. A kingfisher sitting on the back of our neighbour’s boat yesterday. A peaceful life.

We are in the process of buying a house. New complexities will arrive such as council tax, sorting out utilities, broadband. We even have to pay the council for a set of wheely bins. When we move in, we will get the benefits of not having to worry about filling up water, pumping out the toilet or replacing bottles of gas. But I know I will very soon want to be back on the boat. Even when it is cold.

Is this the best time of the year to go narrowboating?

The weather right now is just about perfect for being on a narrowboat. We are waking up to cold crisp mornings with mist rising off the canal. We are getting really beautiful sunrises, sunsets and dramatic moons. During the day the temperature is rising to low twenties – warm enough for shorts and t-shirts.

Narrowboaters are notorious for complaining about the weather. It is either too hot because we live in a tin can, or too cold, because our fingers are going numb driving the boat. It is either too wet, so we don’t want to move the boat, or it is too dry, with water levels falling. It is either too windy, making turning impossible, or too still , encouraging biting insects. We are never happy.

But this week we are. So many smiling faces as we have passed fellow boaters on the Llangollen and Shropshire Union Canals this week. In truth, while I complain, I love living on a narrowboat in all weathers. But this is a very special time of year. Peaceful and very very beautiful.

Thinking back to pre-retirement, I would have been busy in an air conditioned office, missing the weather completely. I loved working but this is so much better.

Should I take a Scottish Ferry in a storm?

As I write this, storm Babet is arriving in Scotland where I live. It is forecast to bring unprecedented levels of rain, falling onto already saturated ground. When the last storm came, two weeks ago, it broke through part of our roof and through the kitchen ceiling. That has not been fixed yet and so we have buckets at the ready. This time, we are on the edge of an amber warning for rain and wind, and just a few miles away is a red warning, meaning likely loss of life. It would be tempting to hunker down and wait, but on Saturday morning we are planning to drive up to the Isle of Skye to get a ferry across to the Outer Hebrides where we will be living for the next month.

The big question is whether we should postpone for a few days till the weather calms down. The Outer Hebrides are off the Northwest coast of Scotland, and while they have some of the most beautiful beaches in the world, they are also famously wild and windy, exposed to the Atlantic Ocean. The crossing is likely to be pretty bumpy.

There are three reasons I think we should go ahead. We are fairly seasoned travellers. A few years ago we took a ferry across the Bay of Biscay in a storm. Pretty much everyone took to their cabins as the ship rocked from side to side, bow to stern. Even many of the staff were feeling unwell. But my son and I stayed up, had a couple of drinks and watched a Fast and Furious film.

Secondly the ferry company Caledonian MacBrayne has not yet issued a warning on this crossing. Many of the ferries on the east coast of Scotland have already been cancelled but so far, the west is looking rough but passable.

And thirdly it will be an adventure. We spent a month in Orkney a couple of years ago, and one of the things I enjoyed most was watching the weather change from sunshine to storm in the blink of an eye. When we finally get to our cottage this Saturday night, we can light a fire, cook something warming and hunker down.

One thing I am nervous about is whether there will be a storm during our return trip towards the end of November. The port of Uig in Skye will be closed at that point, so instead of a two hour ferry, it will be five hours across the open sea to Ullapool. I am hoping for sunshine.

Dodging the storms

This week has seen the birthday of one of our sons – Tin (Martin). So we have been away for a few days in a lodge (fancy static caravan) near Newton Stewart, on the Scottish Borders. There is some fine walking around here which we have been enjoying with the dogs, but we have also been trying to dodge the big storms, bringing torrential rain and very strong winds.

Galloway Forest, looking down on Murray’s Monument

Tin says I am lazy because I am not keen on walking in rain. I have also been told by innumerable hikers that “there is no such thing as bad weather – just bad clothing”. Personally I think this is hogwash. For me it is just not fun to be out in a hooley, with the rain lashing, or worse still, hail battering my face. When we were in Orkney before Christmas, there were at least three occasions when I came back from a walk utterly soaked. No fun.

There is however, something primitive and very satisfying about being inside in the warm during a storm. Perhaps it goes back to cave dwellers, huddled around an open fire, cooking whatever they had just hunted. I am hoping that in the next few days there will be snow, because I really love to see it falling when I am inside in the warm.

So that is what we are doing. Playing cards. Watching films. Cooking comfort food. Drinking whisky.

Not a bad life.

I love Orkney

I am writing this at dawn, sitting in my lounge overlooking the entrance to Scapa Flow in Stromness. Stromness is the second town in Orkney and for the next month we are staying in a cottage that once who have been owned by a fisherman, with its own pier and tiny beach to launch the boats. Dawn here is currently a very civilised 07:40 so I have not had to get up early to see the sun rise. And boy is it beautiful. Here are a couple of pictures from a few days ago:

Since we arrived last Saturday, we have already fallen in love with this wonderful set of islands. It is true that you can have every season here in thirty minutes, and some of the landscape can be bleak. Very few trees grow here for instance. But because it is an archipelago, around every bend in the road, over every brow of a hill, you come across the most stunning views.

One of my sons, Tin, near Kitchener’s Monument after a torrential shower
The beach at Scapa, after a whisky tasting at the distillery

Out of season it feels as if we have the islands to ourselves. For instance the Ring of Brodgar is a Neolithic set of standing stones, as impressive as Stonehenge. But in Stonehenge you would be surrounded by coachloads of tourists, and kept a long way from the stones on fixed visiting paths. At Brodgar it was just us.

Ring of Brodgar

Quite a few restaurants are now closed for the season, but that has not stopped us finding the most wonderful food, including what we have cooked for ourselves. Sorry vegetarians, but picking our own lobsters straight off the fishing boat was wonderful. My son Tin is trained as a chef, and they tasted sooooo good.

Yum

I have to go now. A ferry awaits to take us to the island of Hoy, for another stunning walk, and my other son, Rob, is arriving for a few days. This is going to be some month.

Nice weather for the time of year?

On Thursday morning I woke up to sprinkling of snow on the ground. Snow in mid May is weird even for our very variable weather in the UK. This time last year we were in a heatwave and I was sitting outside in my shorts. I have a friend who insists on wearing shorts from April to October. He also will not turn the central heating on during this period. For me, short wearing is only for the hottest of weather. We have had the central heating on all year, and we even had a proper fire in our wood burning stove twice this week.

When we are in our narrowboat, cold mornings are a treat for me. It is a admittedly a shock to get out of a cozy bed, but a dash to the stern of the boat to turn the heating on, and within 40 minutes we are warm again. In mid-winter I love the sound of the ice cracking around the boat. Throughout the year, I love the mist rising from a cold canal as the morning sun’s rays first begin to warm the day.

I am missing the sun. In previous years I could travel to warmer countries, either with work, or for holidays. Since the first lockdown, that has all gone, and we are down to the vagaries of the British weather. I saw a post this week from a fellow Scottish retiree, who lives in Crete and was complaining about 38 degrees of heat. She got a lot of responses from here saying we could all do with a few days of that.

Ah well. It is the most British of past times to complain about the weather. I know there are more important things going on in the world. But snow in mid May?

How is the weather wherever you are?

Ten reasons life is sh*t. Ten reasons it isn’t

I can’t decide whether to be glass half full or glass half empty this week.

Let’s consider the facts. First looking at the bleak side:

  1. We have given up hope that the Scottish government will allow us to travel in March or April for the Orkney holiday we originally planned for January.
  2. My wife Mandy and I have not received a vaccine invitation, but our younger son, Tin, who is just 31 years old, has. No idea why.
  3. The sunny weather promised for this week has turned into low cold cloud. So much for spending time in the garden.
  4. The backup disk for my PC has failed, and the new one does not work.
  5. We bought 3 cubic metres of wood for the fire, and it will not burn.
  6. The heating is not working in our boat.
  7. My niece is going to have her first child in a few weeks, and we aren’t allowed to see her.
  8. Having spent several days last week trying to sort out funding for my Dad’s care home, I still do not know whether the council will allow him to stay in the one where he is now.
  9. The things I have been doing this week, such as painting and reading, are a waste of time.
  10. I am really missing the people contact I used to get at work.

Reframing these in a more positive way:

  1. We have rebooked Orkney for the whole of November. As with our original plan, this should be dark enough to catch the Aurora Borealis at least once.
  2. Our son is super lucky to get the vaccine early, and for Mandy and I it should be just a few weeks away. So close!
  3. Monday was a lovely day here and looking at the crocuses, spring is definitely coming.
  4. There are many reasons to hate Amazon, but if something doesn’t work, they replace it without quibble.
  5. I have 3 cubic metres of wood stacked neatly in my wood store, and by the autumn it will be perfectly seasoned.
  6. Pierre, the best narrowboat mechanic in Scotland, has promised to fix my heating this week, so I may be able to get back there at the weekend.
  7. All being well, the reopening of Scotland will allow me to travel up to Fife to see my niece and her new child very soon.
  8. Wiltshire council have agreed to pay for a bed for my Dad, and if his current care home does not have a “council bed” available, we can pay a top up. He will not have to move.
  9. The things I have been doing this week, such as painting and reading, are relaxing and good for my mental health. They are exactly the kinds of things I never had time for when I was at work.
  10. I am not missing at all being on constant zoom meetings. My time is my own.

What do you think? Half full or half empty?

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