Old Linslade, Leighton Buzzard to Fenny Stratford again (12 miles, 7 locks)

Thank you to everyone who came to see us at the Linslade festival.  We had a lovely day with the butty shop open and managed to walk around and see the other attractions.

Another project off the list.  This huge bread bin took me nearly all week!

After a busy week visiting family (youngest son's 21st) and then having the company of our eldest on the butty for a couple of days, we set off for the festival a few miles further on.

How's this for mooring outside your house?  Your own private gated marina!

Coming up through Leighton lock, we stopped off at the canalside Tesco and stocked up properly, especially heavy things like beer....

Kath and Odin with their boat Sickle  Sickle and Chalice

Unfortunately, we forgot to take pictures of the festival, but if you can imagine a packed towpath and an adjoining waterpark with lots of stalls, you'll get the picture!

If you enlarge this picture, you'll see the small gap left for boaters to navigate around the hire boat company! Actually this wasn't as tight as on the way to the show!

At about 5.15pm it started to spit with rain, so we did quite well considering the awful forecast for most of the afternoon!  We packed everything up and set off after saying goodbye to Kath and Alan on their boat Sickle (pictured above).

Thought this was fun and quirky!

We short lined the boats through the rain and Leighton lock again and moored overnight, before the Globe Inn, just in time for the torrential downpour!

Oops, is that Richard down the weedhatch?

This morning, the wind greeted us with all it's might, making the decision not to bother with the shop outside the pub and head towards Stoke Bruerne for the next weekend, all too easy.

Anyone lost a fishing brolley?

Volunteers were on duty and helped us negotiate the 3 locks at Soulbury, hastening our passage to the single lock further along.  By the time we got there, the sun was back out, so we stopped quickly for some sandwiches before carrying on to Fenny Stratford for the night.

I've run out of pictures, so here is the reverse of my bread bin!

Nearing our destination and the promise of fish and chips for tea (if it's open, which I doubt on a Sunday!) the propellor tried to chop through a very metallic object loudly!  Richard basically couldn't steer, so ended up broadside on the canl, whilst I manage to steer the butty to the towpath. Pulling with all my might, slowly, both boats came into the side, where the investigation down the dreaded weedhatch began.

Obviously, someone's fishing brolley had taken off in the wind and we were unfortunate enough to wrap it around our prop.  Dutyfully, we despatched what remained of the brolley into the bins at Fenny Stratford, so nobody else would have the misfortune of picking it up.  The saga continues...