Tied up on the first Braunston mooring it was strange walking to the church at the top of the hill and realising we were actually almost in the heart of the village. The Atherstone Aldi stock up it still going strong, so a pint of milk and some cream later we walked back down the hill to dump The Murkster – Midland Chandlers is way too much fun for one person to hang about outside holding the dog.
The rows of toilets, camping kettles, holding tank chemicals, 12v fridges and water containers may evoke nostalgic feelings of childhood camping but the prices do not, making it a great place to handle the goods, read the packaging, check the quality etc before investigating how much cheaper it can be bought elsewhere. We did come away with some brass lacquer, having only heard people bemoan their luck at having lacquered mushrooms in the past we’re struggling to see what’s not to like – a whole new world of long-term shiny possibilities has opened up. It turns out that even the curtains poles should be shiny, not dingy green. Murk is not so keen on the stink of Brasso in the air, which is a shame for him as one pole is done leaving 13 to go.
After a water fill, one ongoing dispute was settled – I championed the Grand Union as the route down to London, whereas Nick favoured Oxford and the Thames, no prizes for guessing which way we headed at Braunston Turn – Oxford is 50 miles away.