Arriving at Dapdune Wharf at lunchtime on the Thursday, and with the weather still a glorious summer’s day, we were soon joined by Tom & Glenys, who wanted a look round the boat and a National Trust Cafe lunch.

We had just finished the guided tour and tea aboard when Cheryl & Jim (the aforementioned friends of the Lock Keeper’s wife at Trigg’s Lock) turned up bearing wine, chocolate brownies and nibbles, and demanding a guided tour with extreme prejudice…

With all the food, teas, beer and wine, not to mention adoration of the Captain, we didn’t feel much like dinner, but a stroll into town found an amenable tapas bar for a final snack.

During a final late evening stroll around the by now deserted wharf, Biggles decided to thumb his nose at the National Trust rules, and climb aboard the dockside crane; Fran joined him. His excuse was that (a) he hadn’t brought his reading glasses and (b) he was looking for the pesky magpies…

Friday morning saw a Farcebook post from Frank Ingnobody’s friend and Guildford resident Lawrence Heath, who’d been walking along the navigation yesterday and spotted us. More fancy electronic communication ensued and we discovered that he was having coffee in an establishment right next to M&S, where the Song & Dance crew were planning on visiting, so a quick nip to the shops proved rather more protracted… Lawrence & Lynn’s son Liam is an Olympic medal winner, and they were trying to work out how they could afford to go the the Rio Olympics, the costs being even more extortionate than in the UK (and that’s before you take into account the air fares).

Although we could have stayed another night at Dapdune – it’s tucked out of the way behind the Cricket Club grounds and normally quiet – that evening and on the Saturday, there was going to be a large Beer Festival, and given the noise from a private / setting up party the Thursday night, we decided to set sail late Friday afternoon for a quieter spot, ending up at the perfect mooring found on the way down, near Send Church Bridge and the Sutton Place estate. Sometimes it’s nice  being in the middle of town, but it’s usually nicer out in the countryside somewhere…

A short trip from Frimley due south, through Bob Potter country (he of Lakeside Club, World Darts Championship, Potters Steak Bar and numerous other ventures) before a swing bridge announced arrival the HQ of the Basingstoke Canal people at Mytchett Canal Centre, which provided an opportunity to fill Song & Dance up with water, and the crew up with lunch. The Captain decided to go tree-climbing.

A lady with a BCS sweatshirt rushed out with a camera, saying to her colleagues “Look, it’s Song & Dance” and to us “Can I get a photo of Biggles? We’ve been following your progress on the Blog”. Sir deigned to pose for at least three seconds before wandering off. Fame indeed.

Betty, the camera wielding lady turned out be the friend / ex-colleague of one of Fran’s Jackstraws Morris dancers, and persuaded us that we really ought to attend the boat rally and all the other festivities at the weekend, and insisted we contact the lady managing the mooring spaces over the weekend…

Leaving Cookham on a busy sunny Sunday, we managed to time the lunch stop so that we could naughtily moor up in the lock layby at Boulter’s Lock near Maidenhead without incurring the wrath of the lock keeper, because he was at lunch too.

There’s a convenient free (to local residents) car park at the lock, and Biggles’ best friends Vicki and Moore drove out, dropped a car there and joined him on a cruise around Maidenhead and down via Bray and the race-course to Windsor, where cat friendly moorings at Baths Island were a mere 5 minutes walk from the town centre and our friends’ home.

It’s quite strange cruising through areas that one regularly frequents on land. And the First Mate can feel another stiff letter to RBWM coming on… if our residents’ Advantage  Card can give us discounts at local car parks and restaurants, why can’t it give us a discount on mooring Song & Dance for a few days?

There’s a mooring here somewhere… chief cook multi-tasks by steering and reading the guide book map.

A very pleasant spot, on sunny weekends Baths Island is wall-to-wall with picnicking Sikhs from Slough (it used to be wall-to-wall BBQs, but the council put a stop to that). Weekdays it’s a quiet but very convenient little back-water. Only five minutes walk to catch a bus back home, too, to sort out some stuff.

Meantime Biggles is delighted with his new scratching post.

On the canal system, you can moor for free on the towpath side for up to 14 days unless there are signs to the contrary (such as 48 hour limits near shops etc.). On the river, there’s no official towpath, and the ability to moor up – or not – is entirely down to the individual landowner, who may or may not charge. Having forgotten that, we moored up at Wallingford on the town side of the bridge, and were somewhat surprised to be rudely awakened at OMG o’clock by a cheery chappy banging on the boat and shouting “Gooood Morning, Mooring Fees please”. We’d moored on the other side of the river before without any such disturbance, but our cheery chappy said “This side’s Wallingford Town Council managed, the other side’s the District Council, and they only collect the fee in the summer when the swimming pool is open”. The Captain was severely dischuffed and set off determinedly to complain to someone.

We moved to the other side for our second night…

Even when the mooring is basically a cow-field like Lechlade Public Moorings you can get asked for a mooring fee. And even way out in the country, you can still get hassled…