By The Blue CowPosted: July 29, 2014
Other than one man making fenders on the towpath, everyone had cleared out by the time we left this morning. Greenery spiralling out of control on the run in to Congleton meant the boat disappeared from time to time as Murk got walked. With so many boats about we figured the Congleton bridge moorings would be fine, as it turned out we were lucky to get anything at all. Up the steps to the pub and down the hill, the town has just about everything…except a key cutter (so far as we could see) – down to our last BW key after losing one to long grass the other day.
Two or three miles after lunch, the skies grew darker but the rain held off. A very productive afternoon, in narrowboat terms: blacking the stove and repairing the cratch cover. Home for tonight is just over the fields from Little Morton Hall.