We're on a boat!

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A few weeks ago we engaged in a splendidly British activity - house-boating on a canal. Our friends Eesvan and Ro had been planning this for a while, and after several attempts it all came together on an unseasonally sunny Sunday. In the morning we gathered raincoats, snacks and friends into the houseboat. After a cursory lesson on manoeuvring and not breaking things, we were let loose with several tons of wood and metal. The engine was set to putter. Steering the thing was an exercise in anticipation - you have to move the rudder about a minute before you want anything to happen.
In what is probably the only feature it shares with a jetski (apart from the whole waterborne thing), you have to have the power on for steering, which makes little sense to landlubbers. It's quite unnerving when you have to go full throttle to avoid another boat...
It's a lovely way to see bits of the country you wouldn't otherwise experience. I can report that it's mostly green.
The main bit of entertainment on the river is the process of opening and closing locks. After the point of them was explained (to go up and down the canal), we bumbled our way through the first one. Having been roundly criticised for being too slow by some grumpy codger, we then found a guy who was much more zen about the whole thing - 'If you're in a hurry, you shouldn't be on the water...'
Fast they ain't - our top speed was around the power-walking mark. Canals were the main form of transportation during the early part of Britain's industrial revolution - there is very little reminder of this, and indeed the current canal users abhor any notion that their patch should once more be used for commercial transport. Luckily for them, trucks and rail will be quicker for some time to come...
Some tight manoeuvring was required to get under some of the bridges, which frequently meant ascending shouts followed by loud crunches. It being a houseboat full of Oxford students, conversation of a very high standard may have been expected - as it was, the most stellar remarks were to do with grammar...
All activities in England require a pub lunch - this was no exception. There was a handy pub on the waterside. We had of course 'moored' the boat, which meant that it swung around alarmingly with every passing breeze. Happily boozed and fed, we got back on to the boat and puttered merrily back. The sun decided to poke through the clouds, so bodies were soon draped languidly over the roof.
A couple of locks later, we handed the vessel back to its phlegmatic owner and retired to Oxford for a beer and pizza. Lovely!

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Photos

Mon
Clearly having a good time

Watching the Apprentice
In style...