Epic
Carnival
Originally uploaded by inkognitoh This might take a while...
Friday
I had my first session with the therapist on Friday night. It was okay and a much different environment/experience than the NHS Counsellor was. The NHS are all Cognitive Behaviour Therapy based practitioners which I find a bit annoying and a touch patronising. I like the idea of paying someone to whinge and whine at and someone who engages me with dialogue and questions rather than the attempted free association rambling the Counsellor wanted me to do.
After that I headed off to Burn Soo Bright. I didn't think I'd be up for it but I was and it was nice to catch up and super nice that my sneaky friends were all carrying belated birthday presents and cards for me (just in case I showed). Pete included the worlds best mixtape and Andy added 'just a card' because he's missed my birthday and Australia Day LOL it was all very sweet and a good night was had. I must say though that the Northern Soul sets confused my foreign self greatly.
Saturday
Most of Saturday was spent trying to sort out a jumpstart on my battery. Amazingly the Cruising Association were meeting when I lobbed up on their doorstep and a lovely gent named Geoff loaned me his jump cables and promissed to dig the battery out of his car if I was still there when the meeting broke up at 3pm. Bless him.
The Limehouse Marina staff phoned a boat they knew was coming to pump out and they arrived to rescue me with a jump start at around midday. I was so grateful to them and keen to get underway as I very much needed to arrive at Springfield Marina to buy gas, wood and kindling before it closed at 4pm. An exciting encounter with the mechanised (no windlass necessary only buttons to press!!!) Old Ford Lock and a quick dash up the Lee Valley Navigation had me at the marina well before 4pm to find that the winter closing hours were actually 1pm... le sigh. Although this was essentially a wasted journey, I'm glad I did it. The Hackeny and Walthamstow marshes made for lovely and different scenerey and it 'felt' like a day out on some level.
I turned tail and headed back toward West London - as I should have done right from the jump start - to where I knew the coal barge would be on Sunday. Candlebridge Carrying Company are the life support system of the canals and the only thing between me and them was, two tunnels, about a thousand locks and a four mile journey. Okay, there were only about ten locks but three of them were in Camden, one on top of the other under the intense scrutiny of a million tourists. I hate Camden Locks. Knowing this was ahead, I travelled in the dark through four locks as far up the canal as I could on Saturday night.
I stopped for the night below City Road lock in Islington where I'd moored up over Christmas and left the boat alone for a week (much to the dismay of the other boaters I spoke to). You see, this stretch is a 'notoriously dodgy' part of the canal known for youthful japes and hijinks. Having moored up exhausted, I went to the petrol station for wood and kindling and then to the supermarket for supplies. On the way back to the boat, clutching my bag of Nandos and looking forward to some relaxation and an early night, imagine my horror to see four 'hooded youths' tucked in to the dark corner right opposite my boat, settled in for a night of binge drinking. I ignored them, went about my business and quietly prayed :) They left around half twelve and I promptly went to sleep relieved.
The crashing sound that woke me at about 2.20am heralded their return and I leapt out of bed and was out of the boat so quickly I had no idea what to do once I was there. Barefooted, pyjama clad and zombie brained I scanned the scene and couldn't focus LOL. I saw my life ring bouncing toward me and three or four shadowy teenagers legging it away from the boat. I couldn't see my favourite flower pot but everything else seemed to be okay. Nothing could get me back to sleep even though I was dog tired from the long day. I was a wired zombie and lay there tensed and edgy yet completely out of it for the rest of the night.
Sunday
Tired, cranky but knowing I faced a hard days work getting through the locks to get what I needed, I imagine only a parent of young children could understand and empathise LOL. Gosh I was in a filthy mood and this manifested itself in the boat not handling well and me not handling it well. The wind made mooring a chore and every mistake I could make (bar sinking the boat - and that was on the cards at one point), I made.
Slamming into the locks and gates, I managed to knock just about everything off every shelf below deck, including the TV!!! Tying up before the main lock, I leapt down below to survey some of the damage. For some reason I left the boat in gear so it quickly slipped its mooring and cruised on un-piloted. I didn't realise it was still in gear so leapt off to re-secure the mooring but the boat kept going ... without me...
As I was losing grip on the centre line, the only thing I could do was walk alongside the boat and try to pull it toward the thankfully closed wooden lock gates. Just as I lost the rope entirely the boat slammed into the gate making a god awful noise which startled the million tourists who were watching my show. I then had to run up the path and leap the fence into the lock and decide whether to leap on the roof, climb down the gate or simply cry as the boat sorted itself out LOL. Luckily the boat nudged the side of the lock and I bolted down the stairs and leapt aboard.
Having survived all of that, the weather got colder but my mood picked up as I was through the locks and it was all plain cruising from here. I arrived at Little Venice around 1pm to find that Barney the coal man had shipped out about an hour beforehand (ROTFL right?) going further west. I leapt on board, revved the engine and fanged it to Ladbroke Grove where I found him lashed to the Dutch barges opposite the Sainsbury's moorings. I threw a cheque at him and told him to load me up. He thought it was Christmas and I saw salvation while he piled bags of wood on the roof and unscrewed the old gas bottle.
Feeling relieved and like the end of the suffering was in sight, I went in to my favourite canalside Sainsbury's and shopped till I dropped. Flowers, stinky candles, 'hot food', you want it? It's yours. I was unable to deny myself anything at all. The bad times were truly over...except they weren't. I came out to find some kids had untied the bloody mooring line on the back of the boat. The naughty things. They were young, endearing and cheeky chimpies having no idea how dangerous or problematic what they had done might have been. I didn't even have the energy to be cross with them.
I made it happily and saftely to the Paddington Basin visitor moorings via the Little Venice Elsan station and water taps. Having a full and heavily laden boat feels so different than the obnoxiously empty vessel I set out with on Saturday. When she rolls gently but heavily against the water with a full water tank, a roof full of coal and wood she feels like home. After an extensive tidying session (and the washing-up from the past week ), I put away the new groceries, arranged my spring flowers and lit my scented candles while dinner cooked. I then sat down with a crackling fire and read my newspapers like I hadn't a care in the world...