Well, the rally harbourmaster Jan said they’d find room for Song & Dance somewhere on Odiham Wharf, and the ship’s cook had spotted that some of her (speak it quietly) morris dancing friends would be around on the Friday evening and all day Saturday, so without further ado it was full steam (or rather full diesel) ahead for the Odiham Magna Carta festivities.

A boating heron watched disdainfully as we went past, while two lovely steam launches were launched at the Barley Mow slipway and really would be going full steam ahead to get up to Odiham that evening.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the canal, the helmsperson rapidly realised that the lovely property for sale she fancied was actually the outhouse, and that we probably couldn’t afford that, let alone the house that came with it.

And sure enough, space there was for us for at least Friday night, and – as it turned out – the rest of the weekend too. Having come this far, it would have seemed churlish not to be a part of Sunday’s Boat Rally, and we duly signed on the dotted line.

As the canal wanders directionally aimless around the contours via Ash, Aldershot, Farnborough, Fleet, Dogmersfield and so on, one can’t help remember the (probably apocryphal) story of the hitch-hiker on the old Winchester by-pass holding a sign that said “Anywhere but Basingstoke”.  And with (a)  the Greywell tunnel blocked (b) both ends of the tunnel now two of the most important bat SSSIs in Europe and (c) the M3, no amount of restoration will enable the Basingstoke Canal to reach Basingstoke.

The canal does manage to cross the Blackwater Valley Road, though. It’s quite odd cruising over a major dual-carriageway on an aqueduct that one has driven under far too often over the years.

Immediately after is a huge fishing area that we’d never come across before, and someone in Aldershot made a nice posh bridge once upon a time. It’s certainly an odd area!

Another bright sunshiny morning saw an early departure for an 09:00 reporting time, to climb the three Brookwood Locks, closely followed by the 14 Deepcut Locks. We somehow managed to be the first off, but David & Jane’s Rowan was just behind and joined us for the climb.

With double width locks, virtually no useable lock landings/laybys and only two crew each, it was going to be a steady slog, but we soon settled in to a steady rhythm, and the female crew were so happy lock-wheeling and nattering that they never wanted the male crews to take turn about, like we both normally did. The locks were already set for us, and not overly fierce, so the day passed in interesting company (Rowan’s skipper was someone in the city, then the lockkeeper at Thames Lock on the Wey Navigation), with the sun shining, the gentle thump thump thump of Rowan’s Russell Newbery engine and the tree-lined seclusion from the world outside inducing an almost trance like meditative state. Even occasional problems like jamming the boats on narrower than usual lock walls or gates that wouldn’t quite open all the way didn’t spoil the relaxed mood.

Emerging at the top and parting company with Rowan, we found pleasant moorings by Frimley Lodge Park, only a few yards from The King’s Head which provided Guinness for the thirst, and a menu that provided precious little incentive to cook on the boat.

The crew slept well after such a day. The Captain slept all day (and spent the night worrying the local Canada geese and goslings, we suspect).

Leaving the delights of the Bridge Barn Beefeater behind, another OMG early start saw Song & Dance reporting for a passage up through St. John’s / Goldsworth Locks. We’d planned on doing these and the Brookwood Locks in one go, but were reliably informed that there were no moorings beyond Brookwood until the top of the Deepcut flight (the locals regard these two flights as one: why doesn’t the documentation say so!).

We had company again; convenient moorings right by the launderette in St. Johns enabled some canal water to be washed out of the dunked clothes, and a start made on drying. Then onward through Brookwood Lye, where we found lovely moorings in a country park that we had no knowledge of, despite living in the area for umpteen years – round the back of the old Brookwood Hospital, and hidden from the Knaphill Sainsbury megastore and related housing developments.

We were aware some boats were following us the hill, and several towpath users had remarked that they hadn’t seen so many boats on the Basingstoke for years which puzzled us until a chap polishing his boat said “Hello, are you going to the Rally”? Subsequent enquiries established that not only was our eventual destination Odiham having a major bunfight “celebrating” King John’s supposed departure from the castle 800 years ago to head for Runnymede and an early attempt at Habeus Corpus, but that the Canal Supporters were holding a boat rally roughly when we expected to reach Odiham, and that mooring space would be – errr – limited! We said we’d keep in touch and hurry up or delay, as required…

Arriving first at the delightful Brookwood moorings we’d been told about, we took poll position, but no-one else seemed to bothered about tying up to trees or bushes. I can see Song & Dance staying awhile here on the return journey.