As if the idyllic mooring near Yardley Gobion wasn’t enough, a late boater made us look out the window and find a spectacular sunset.
But the next morning, the Captain let us know he wasn’t happy (and not just with the weather). He had some unpleasant inflammation and scratches round his ears and forehead, sometimes a sign that he’d been in a fight. We bathed them with the vet’s answer to Dettol, and – being nowhere near a vet – hoped they would clear up if we kept things clean.
Aiming to reach Stoke Bruerne, we moored up just below the bottom lock of the seven in the early afternoon, walked up into the village in showery and uninspiring weather, somewhat preoccupied with the possibility of needing to find a vet.
Moored across from us was the splendidly named Zappa – a rather different musician to Muddy Waters – and the puzzling Lactodorum which clearly had something to do with milk. Subsequent investigation suggests it means “Dairyman’s Fort” and was the Roman name for nearby Towcester, where there was a vet if we needed one.
Somewhat preoccupied by the Captain’s difficulties and wondering what there was on the boat for dinner, we passed The Navigation pub, discovered that they were doing two sirloin steak dinners and a half-decent bottle of wine for £20, and decided that would do.