Pottering on gently into October, the weather was a bit unpleasant, with wind and rain setting in, so we ended up not travelling very far, and mooring up at North Kilworth.

Last time we were here, they were just starting to dig a new marina opposite all the moored boats between us and the bridge. They’ve still not finished, but – apart from a huge warehouse like building – it looks about ready to fill with water. It’s apparently owned by the Debdale marina people; they’ve used the same long thin metal pontoons, and it will be an even bigger boat park  by the looks of it.. Goodness knows where all the boats are going to come from, and we shudder to think what might happen if they all tried to go boating at the same time!

The weather continued vaguely unpleasant on the Monday. We diverted up the Welford Arm, which was deserted compared to the last time we were here. The weather probably had a lot to do with it. Tied up right at the end, and only 20 yards from The Wharf Inn, after a brief trip across the border into Northamptonshire to buy milk, and to renew our acquaintance with Postman Pat, we retired for lunch.

Back on the main line, we tied up for the night next to this large rough pasture field. It might not look much, but as it got dark, we had splendid flying display from a large barn owl hunting for supper. Seemingly unaware – or at least unfazed – by our presence the other side of the see-through hedgerow, we had some superb close up views of it aerobatically quartering the area, and once diving into the grass (albeit returning without any small furry rodent in it’s clutches).

Another short cruise in the morning and we moored up in pleasant farmland.

While having lunch aboard, there was a very odd noise, and that turned out to be a hedge-cutting tractor; clearly dangling the cutter over the top, the farmer had given the towpath side a pretty good haircut too. The tree was a bit of a puzzle too.

Despite the mediocre weather, having worked no locks today, we headed off on a circular walk to get some much needed exercise. We passed several herds of cows, all of which wandered over to investigate – they must be very bored. The hedge-cutter seemed to be following us too – must be that time of year.

Monday morning dawned bright and pleasant after a pretty wet and windy night, and although past the impending closure, we still had a “mountain” to climb (i.e. lots of locks) to Foxton & Market Harborough. The Quartermaster also needed to stock up on some provisions, so the plan was to carry on up another seven locks (quite enough broad locks in a day) and visit a well regarded farm shop. But first we needed some water, so we moved just across the canal to fill up.

Just as we were leaving Kilby Bridge, we noticed another boat Labyrinth looked as though they were getting ready to depart; they said they were almost ready, so we said we’d wait at the next lock for them. (It really is much easier with two crews). They were originally only going to go up three locks, but as we pootled on they obviously found Song & Dance as amenable a locking companion as we did them, and they decided they would stay with us up to Wistow. A pleasant – if busy – cruise.

No longer a problem for us, the overnight rain had put the Soar on red boards/flood alert, which was clearly going to be a problem for the several boats heading downhill trying to get to Leicester before the Wednesday afternoon deadline. Let’s hope the river went down as quickly as it went up!

We were somewhat surprised to see three Red Kites passing over- didn’t know they were in Leicestershire, but apparently they are. Finding a nice mooring spot relatively close to the Rural Centre cum Farm Shop, we headed off over the fields. The various shopping emporia and garden centre were all open, and full of all those things you never knew you didn’t need, apart from the delicatessen, which was closed due to someone having a hospital appointment. Ah well. At least the café was open, and we walked back across some different fields, a nice circular walk.

Labyrinth had moored just behind us, and on establishing that they kept similar “gentleman’s” hours to us and were going nearly as far as us, we agreed to set off uphill together again on the Tuesday morning.

During breakfast we were treated to a fine view of a sparrow hawk sitting on a fence post just across the canal; unfortunately Labyrinth’s crew missed it.

And so we put another five locks under our belt before waving them goodbye: we tied up and walked across the fields to Fleckney for milk and other supplies. Although full of cows, you could still see the remains of the mediaeval Ridge and Furrow cultivation system. After lunch we navigated through Saddington Tunnel, waved to Labyrinth who were tucked up for the day just the other side, and made our way a little further to Debdale Wharf Marina. We’d arranged an overnight stay to catch up on some more laundry – it’s never ending!

We didn’t altogether take to Debdale Marina: the boats are packed in on long, thin, metal pontoons. It certainly maximises the number of boats per square inch, but getting your boat in and out of mooring at the far end is a serious challenge. Good job we’re not claustrophobic.

Still, the Chief Otter Spotter did manage to add one to her tally.

After the exertions of yesterday, we decided a lazy Sunday in the sun seemed in order.

The unusually coloured boat behind us was called Rebellion  – we’d seen them moored up at Leicester; yesterday the chap had asked if we had a spare 25 amp fuse – his macerator loo had blown a fuse and he didn’t have a spare. They’re standard car-type blade fuses, not difficult to source from a garage or Halfords, but the chances of finding one late on a Saturday in rural Leicestershire were unlikely. Expressing surprise, as we have a similar loo (same make, description etc.) that has a 15 amp fuse he said his data sheet definitely said 25 amps. Anyway, we had offered him one of our spare 15 amp fuses to try… and this morning he knocked on the hatch clutching a fancy bottle of beer and said “so far so good”.

Given the impending canal closure, we were expecting some boats to head up from Leicester, and so it proved. After lunch we wandered down the towpath to Kilby Lock No 30 (the end/start of the impending stoppage, depending on your point of view).

First up was Green Matters plus a CaRT chap on foot. Green Matters was single-handing – always a challenge, particularly with broad locks – and had gone horribly aground in the by now infamously dodgy and insufficiently watered pound near lock 37. CaRT had come out to rescue him and run some water down, and one chap had stayed with him helping him all the way up to Kilby Bridge (and at the same time helping boats behind).

Next up were our new friends on Joss and  Corniche. Fortunately there was room for everyone to moor near the pub.

Carrying on our afternoon stroll back down the canal, it was clear (as it was elsewhere) that the Rose Hips had done extremely well this year, but the Sloes and Blackberries seemed to be significantly less prevalent than we remembered from this time last year. However, we came across several small trees/large shrubs that we didn’t recognise, with what appeared to be pink bell like flowers. Further on it became clear that that they were pink seed pods, enclosing bright orange seeds. On some of them, the leaves were starting to turn a lovely red colour too. Back at the boat, Dr. Google suggested they were probably European Spindle bushes. Even the chief garden visitor learns something every day.

We were rather taken by this pair: makes a change from Rosie & Jim.

Later, sitting on the wharf drinking Joss’s tea and coffee, the Green Matters chap appeared, all spruced up for dinner at the pub. However, his dis was well gruntled as he’d arranged to bring his boat down from Newark to Debdale Wharf Marina near Foxton – they offered a quick bottom blacking service – and he’d planned on taking it back the same way. The impending canal closure and required diversion had added another week or 10 days to this originally fairly quick exercise, and the aggro and costs of arranging care for his aging Mum, and kennelling for his dogs didn’t bear speaking about. Boating isn’t always relaxing!

And so, on Tuesday morning we bid our last farewell to the Captain, locked Song & Dance down through Wood End Lock with lumps in our throats, and shortly thereafter turned the 90 degree bend that marks the Southern-most point of the Trent & Mersey Canal before making a mile-long beeline for Fradley Junction.

We managed to transit all the locks at Fradley without drama; for the first time in many years and for the first time in Song & Dance we went straight ahead at the Mucky Duck and stayed on the Trent & Mersey, rather than turning back South on the Coventry Canal. It was busy enough that we didn’t stop to take any (more) photos. We’ve loads from years ago and it hasn’t changed much!

Stopping for lunch at Alrewas – a nice village – we paid the obligatory visit to Coates the Butcher, a renowned emporium. Haven’t been there for far too long! Unfortunately the fridge and freezer were stuffed already, and all we had room for was a few rashers of their splendid bacon.

We carried on through the lovely Alrewas river section before getting to one of our least favourite parts of the Trent & Mersey: there’s a long section past Barton Turns where you are effectively the hard shoulder for the very busy and noisy A38. Pushing on, we finally tied up at Branston Water Park 20 minutes after the skies opened. A long day for us – 9.1 miles and 12 locks. Wet and knackered!

The weather in the morning was much better, so we went for a walk around the Branston Water Park lake before setting off. Didn’t see anything terribly noteworthy, not even a pickle jar, but it was a pleasant stroll.

This convolvulus looked kind of lonely…

… and the council had thought of everything, even installing a goose park.

Pushing off late on Wednesday morning, we were soon in the middle of Burton-on-Trent’s Shobnall Fields for lunch before ending up on Willington’s Visitor Moorings for the night. They’ve moved the co-op to the other side of the railway since we were last here, doubling the walk. Progress, I suppose.

And so it came to pass on Thursday morning that with Bromyard Festival calling SWMBO walked across the road the the station, and caught several trains back to Stone and Aston Marina to retrieve the car, while someone else – single-handed – took Song & Dance a mile or so down the canal and into the boat megalopolis and warren known as Mercia Marina – Europe’s largest inland marina, apparently.

There was only one taxi at Stone station, and two people got off the train. The were both going to Aston Marina to retrieve cars! Result. Madam was soon back in Derbyshire, and we began the serious task of packing for a weekend away.