Day 7. Buckby Top Lock to Blisworth Tunnel
13 miles – 6 locks – 7 hours
Today began badly, and then got worse! From waking up I was rushing about, getting in a lather, working up a sweat, winding myself up, for no other reason than a self-imposed desire to ‘get ahead’. There’s no logic to it. I’ve the whole summer to get to London. And the more I rushed the more the beautiful girl on the pair of ‘camping boats’ slowed down, was graceful in her unhurried movement. I flustered, blustered and mis-timing a leap back down to the descending boat ended up in the water. Laughter from the lock side, my burning embarrassment, the girl from the ‘camping boats’ offering a long pole into the water to help me out.
Dirty, dripping, mortified!
Quickly away, needing to escape, as fast as ‘Lilly’ would take me… down the cut, around the corner, sweating, swearing, welcome to my !*?>!! relaxed canal life?!?
Moor on a not-so-very-secure mooring on the stretch between Blisworth Mill and the tunnel. Drawn breath, dry off.
Later afternoon in exploring Blisworth I find the antiques market, housed in the magnificent old mill, perhaps a little of my lost equilibrium is regained in buying a wooden chest. In it go the precious mementoes I’ve brought into this new life. A life edited – whittled down – to a hundred books, perhaps 8x albums of photographs and now this chest of letters.