Hi, how are you doing? We’re back and we’re ready for it all over again.
Spring is here and I have returned from multiple holidays. Though I prefer the term travels. Holidays implies that I have been eating out and taking selfies in front of pretty buildings, when in reality, I have been cooking for myself in AirBnBs (mostly falafels) and being bugged by young couples to take their photos as I try to enjoy a pretty view. This is a request that I would consistently greet with a kind smile as I would take the camera and go on to photograph them, despite wishing their phone was unlocked so I could slyly clear all previous holiday snaps from their camera roll. I was never so lucky, but being honest, I have forgotten how to use an iPhone so wouldn’t really know where to start and would probably end up accidentally making a call to an international number. Though their unexpected phone bill would be a triumph matching ruining their Instagram story that day.
Poohsticks survived the winter. No burst pipes and no sign of mould (except on my dinner jacket, though with the frequency at which I wear black tie, that could have been maturing for a while). That being said though, all of my houseplants froze and died. This is one of the reasons I do not trust myself to get a pet yet.
On 29th March, my brother Tom and his partner Fran visited and they assisted me on my first voyage. It is fair to say that it would have been a nightmare without them. It was a windy day and leaving the marina was a tight squeeze. Tom took the front rope and guided the bow round the bend as Fran and I watched from the back, whilst being blown into a neighbouring boat, whose owner seemed to not bat an eyelid. We then set off and found a nice spot to moor for the night (or in my case two weeks).
It was a friendly bunch at the marina, but I have missed being on the towpath. The passersby, ranging from sweet little children complimenting the flowers on my well deck to shifty looking men eyeing up the quality of the padlock securing my bicycle to the roof. Ah, Hertfordshire. Last time Tom stayed on the boat, he complained of the sound of mooing all night coming from the field opposite. On this occasion, it’s a disorientated cockerel ignorant to when the morning actually starts. It’s good to be in nature. The cygnets that had once plagued this stretch of the canal have grown into swans and are lesser dickheads than they were before. They now gently bob past the boat showing little interest, instead of forming blockades and hissing at me every time I would try to go on a run. Growth.
I have no doubt that it will be chick season soon. Last year, there was an abundance of ducklings and goslings by mid-May. This year, following a wet but essentially warm winter, things seem to be starting early. My grapevine has started to bud, weeks ahead of last year, and Tring garden centre has already run out of tomato seedlings. Furthermore, the flying swarms of bugs have made an early appearance. This is not good. Last year, this led to my revolutionary, yet presently unpatented, invention of velcro mosquito netting which can be placed over the side hatch as a temporary fixture in the case of high temperature accompanied by a high bug count (the two are correlated). Once these arseholes are in your boat, your evening is ruined. Below is a shocking image captured last year from when I decided to go out and leave the light on for security (so it looked like someone was in), whilst also keeping the window open a crack for a bit of fresh air. That air was plagued with tiny insects.
Fortunately, I am one of those wankers who likes burning incense, in spite of the fact that the air quality induced is much alike holding your head over a chimney and inhaling the fumes. But it feels somewhat classier breathing in frankincense or namaste than the fossilised carcass of a dead dinosaur that’s been compressed for sixty million years. I’ll keep snorting my bug repelling zen smog, thank you.
On the subject of coal (that was coal I was doing there), we’re now suspended in that time of year in which lighting the fire isn’t really worth it. In the winter, it’s shitting cold. You wake up and can rely on the inside temperature of the boat being at most 2°C warmer than the outside temperature of the boat. You light the fire and the place warms up soon enough and then do everything you can to ensure that it stays lit until bed time. Now, however, I wake up to a toasty 13°C boat. I open the blinds and by the time I finish my breakfast (crumpets saturated in butter – real cholesterol generators), the light through the windows has warmed the place up. The sun then sets at 8pm and it gets a little bit chilly. A modest 16-17°C. Not cold. But not warm. The lower end of comfortable. Definitely not worth stacking and lighting a fire for.
On the subject of energy, the extended daylight hours and the height of the sun in the sky means that the solar panels are filling my batteries up before midday. This is joyous, but does also mean that I have a £1,000 solar array that is literally doing nothing for eight hours every day. I know that some folks in their houses pump the excess electricity generated back into the grid, but this is not possible for me, with my initial reason for installing solar panels being that I am not connected to the grid in the first place. Instead, I have taken to deliberately leaving lights on and forgetting to close the fridge door. I have also started using my washing machine more instead of cycling to the laundrette, somewhat overlooking the fact that my water tank has not grown in size at all. I am now in a position in which I am rationing my showers until I move the boat again next weekend. Fortunately, I have an antisocial week ahead.
So overall, it’s great to be back. I am moored in the middle of nowhere and have enjoyed a weekend of pottering about on my roof, cruising, cycling and cooking tasty grub. I have enough kindling for a few more fires and then I am looking forward to putting the stove to bed for the year and switching to the lifestyle of rubbing marmite all over myself before bed each night to keep the mosquitos at bay.
George's blog 