Without wishing to be indelicate, we were beginning to be in urgent need of a pump-out: the last one had been at Upton Marina, and there are no facilities on the Staffs and Worcester between Stourport and the Wolverhampton. Even the offshoot of Stourport’s chandlery and wharf at Compton was now defunct: 90% of the way to being occupied “luxury flats”. So (having been caught out before) we’d checked with Oxley Marine near Wolverhampton to ensure that they could help us out.

Compton Wharf did however provide a suitable lunch stop: handy shops right on the bridge, pub, cafe and so on (and frequent buses to Wolverhampton, if that’s what floats your narrowboat). And while pipe bridges are common, we can’t ever recall having seen one quite like this peculiar inverted V one at Compton.

Oxley Marine is located between Aldersley Junction (where the “Wolverhampton 21” locks finally drop down to the Staffs & Worcester), and Autherley Junction half a mile further on, where the Shropshire Union Canal heads off for the salt fields of Cheshire, while the Staffs and Worcester keeps on heading for Stafford and Stoke. Approaching Aldersley, it’s hard to believe you’re only a mile or so from the centre of Wolverhampton: those 21 locks are quite a steep flight and end right in the middle of town.

Oxley Marine is an “old fashioned” boat yard with a busy bar cum social club attached; there are about fifteen boats there, and they had kindly made room for us to stay overnight with an electric hook-up so we could catch up on some washing. The boat’s pump-out orifice was on the wrong side for ease of access, so we went past the boatyard, turned at Autherley Junction, came back, did the business, then carried on retracing our steps to Aldersley Junction so we could turn around again and moor up properly. We were beginning to know the stretch of canal between the two junctions quite well…

… even if the “his and her” boats opposite seemed a bit bemused at our comings and goings.

We’d been told by the boatyard chappie that the local take-away Chinese and Indian restaurants were both worth a punt, so perusing the proffered menus, we rang the Indian and ordered a Chicken Tikka & Mushroom Biryani with Veggie Curry, a Chicken Peshwar with Pulao Rice and a Peshwari Nan. The bill came to just under £16 including delivery. The food arrived when they said it would despite the Friday night rush, had complimentary poppadums and other bits included, was extremely tasty, and the portions so large that we could only eat half – we kept the rest for a complete second meal! This sure ain’t Berkshire, Toto.

We knew the boatyard had two resident black and white sister cats and seen them wandering around – there had been an awkward moment when Biggles introduced himself. While waiting for our food, sitting in the rare warm evening sunshine with a beer, we were chatting to a couple who said they had seen our cat go aboard at the back, and jump out the front sometime later; they asked how we managed with a walkabout cat. While saying it wasn’t really a problem these days, it became clear that the cat they thought was ours was black and white. The interloper had clearly explored Song & Dance while Sir had remained fast asleep somewhere inside. Words will be had in due course.

Meanwhile, across the canal and down a bit was a canoe/kayak club. During the afternoon a number of floral tributes had been pinned to their railings, and later a gathering of smartly dressed people stood around for a while with drinks in hand: some kind of memorial gathering it seemed. As we were leaving Stourport a few days ago, we’d noticed the Union Flag flying at half-mast next to the Clock Tower for no immediately obvious reason. Let’s hope we’re not indirectly responsible for a sudden increase in the death rate as we head North…

Extricating ourselves from Falling Sands Lock without any mischief this time around, we were soon pootling into Kidderminster; a short stop to let the Captain hide under the cars in the 24 hour Tesco Superstore car park , and we were soon climbing up through Kidderminster Lock, with the impressive church looming into view.

Going down Kidderminster Lock used to be a surreal experience. The bottom gate is very (very) close to a main traffic light interchange on the Kidderminster Ring Road. The ring road crosses the canal on the concrete bridge in the photo below, which is a lot closer that the wide-angle picture suggests. Before you empty the lock, if you stand at the front of the boat  you can almost reach out and touch the traffic rushing past: it really is bedlam there with loads of pedestrians too.

Years ago, when the FO first came this way, as you sunk down you waved bye bye to the chaos, and when you emerged from the other end of the tunnel under the ring road, you found yourself in a different world. Right up close on both sides, tall carpet warehouses – largely out of use – loomed over you, and cut out all the noise. It was like emerging into a silent brick Grand Canyon, and an astonishing contrast to what was going on just behind you.

These days, most of the warehouses are gone. As you emerge from the tunnel the first thing you come across is a drive-thru MacDonalds. Followed by a large car park for the no-longer-in-the-high-street emporiums like Marks & Spencer, Next, Boots, Debenhams etc. etc.  Deep joy.

Falling Sands Lock is a pleasant enough spot if the wind’s in the right direction… it’s just next to the sewage works.  Setting off on the Saturday morning, we remembered the lock well, as we’d come to blows the last time we were here, a few years ago.

If you’re coming down from Kidderminster you approach the lock entrance/top gate on a bend. Concentrating on trying to get the boat approximately lined up with the lock, we failed to notice that the gate hadn’t opened quite all the way, and with a modest burst of power to straighten things up, firmly wedged the boat in the lock entrance.

The geometry was such that the front rubbing strake had climbed up on top of the top gate walkway, and despite much creative use of engine revs, barge poles, paddle manipulation and multi-lingual swear words, we were well stuck.

Can’t remember how we managed it in the end, but it took well over half-an-hour to extract the boat, and about the same to dig out whatever was stopping the gate fully opening in the first place. What jolly japes.

Coming up, we couldn’t help noticing that there were now three ways to cross the canal at the bottom of the lock.

The furthest downstream was accessed by the old and well worn stone steps; from the brickwork, the parapet had clearly been added later. There was also a rope slot down the middle. Then there was the metal walkway, clearly added later, that may have had a rope slot, now blocked up. And then there was the usual walkway across the bottom gates.

With some locks one struggles to find a single way across the bottom, so I wonder why they felt three were needed.