We had already decided (a decision? a rare event) that we weren’t going to press on to Bristol: the storm had – it turned out – rendered the Avon unsafe for boaters and if it was going to be imitating a yo-yo we didn’t want to be stranded. So  – not really being city people – when we set off from Bradford-upon-Avon (or Bradford on Avon if you prefer), we were rather expecting to wind at Avoncliff Aqueduct, stopping at the recommended pub for lunch. But we got there rather early and there were no terribly easy moorings left, so we pressed on to Dundas Aqueduct.

Passing The Who’s country establishment, we came to the conclusion the herons were tamer than in the Midlands, or had been deafened by the noises emanating from the studio.

Dundas Aqueduct was even more mobbed, being a lovely spot on a sunny Sunday lunchtime, but we managed to squeeze in just near Dundas Wharf. Mr Dundas was a big wheel in establishing the K&A, so his name keeps cropping up, even if only as the aforementioned purveyor of extraordinarily expensive Guinness in Kintbury.

The aqueduct is impressive, as are the views.

 

The wharf was busy – that’s us just under the footbridge in the distance. (Click on the photo and it should get bigger,  as the actress said…)

However, faced with the –err – challenge of reversing a 58ft boat under the bridge and into the basin and then winding in the junction of the aqueduct and the Somerset Coal Canal entrance, with boats coming from all directions, we decided to press on a bit further to the next winding hole.

By which time we were not a million miles from Bath, and it was still only mid-afternoon, so the Captain thought “sod-it”, we might as well press on and see if we can get moored somewhere amenable, and come back if we can’t.

So, while we’d never really intended to come this far, we stumbled upon a mooring in a pleasant spot right next to Sydney Gardens, overlooking the city centre, with a parade of hot-air balloons to welcome us. With such an invitation to spend a couple of days in the city, it would have been positively rude to refuse!

 

So, more or less by accident, we seem to have brought February’s bare steel bath tub from it’s genesis in Biddulph all the way to Bath, complete with Captain Biggles, who still seems to be opting to stay with the boat.

Now what?