July, 2016 - Travels with Verne and Roy

The Arrow Mill, charming accommodation in Warwickshire

This is the perfect place for a summer wedding – in fact, my stepson Carl and our daughter-in-law Carrie were married here on a perfect English summer’s day in July, 2009. We (but especially Roy) have stayed here many times since then; it’s conveniently close to Roy’s mum’s home in Alcester.

We come not so much for the accommodation as for the food, though this is a lovely old historical inn with oodles of atmosphere. Casual weekday guests like us are not the hotel’s bread and butter: weddings are.

Nevertheless, proprietor Simon does a great job in the kitchen on this quiet Tuesday evening in mid-summer, ably assisted by his friendly wife, Agnes. We’ve already had an excellent lunch today at The Bell at Welford-on-Avon (where Roy had an apple crumble that I suspect he’s going to be raving about for weeks to come); but both Roy and I thoroughly enjoy our delicious shanks of lamb, slow-braised for 14 hours. Wendy, more restrained, pairs a starter of cheesy mushrooms with a lovely salad.

Roy is always good at sussing out the best room at a hotel, and then making sure he gets it on his next visit; at the Arrow Mill, it’s Room 11: a corner location, up just one flight of stairs, away from any kitchen noise and with pretty views. It has a romantic four-poster bed and a fabulous corner bath to put a smile on my face – though Roy complains he has to jump around in the shower to get wet.

We’ll be back, no doubt of that.

The Bull Hotel at Stony Stratford, Milton Keynes

Overnight at The Bull Hotel either before or after the British Grand Prix – it’s 20 minutes from the Silverstone circuit.

People tend to sneer when you mention the “new town” of Milton Keynes, built in 1967 as one of several to relieve London congestion. But there’s more to the place than ugly concrete facades and bewilderingly endless roundabouts – it also encompasses Stony Stratford, whose Watling Street was since Roman times the main thoroughfare from London to the north, and later famous as an overnight stop for stagecoaches.

The Bull Hotel (1609) is one of a handful of old hostelries that remain, and Roy and I spent the night there after the 2016 F1 British Grand Prix. Just along the High Street is The Cock, and this is apparently the origin of the expression “cock and bull story” – it refers to the gossip and tall stories exchanged by travellers at these old inns in days of yore. You can almost hear the clatter of ghostly stage-coaches through its arched entryway into the courtyard; but it’s more likely the sound of a barrel of real ale rolling across cobbles into the adjacent Vaults pub.

One of just 12 rooms, ours overlooked the Parish Church of St Mary and St Giles. Furnishing and décor throughout this little hotel are in new condition, cosy, mainly comfortable, and in keeping with its history. Our room had a spacious bathroom with a good shower, plus a couple of welcome features such as armchairs, a safe and even a fan. This being F1 weekend, the GBP135 we paid was understandably over the odds; happily, it included a full English breakfast, served all the way through to a civilised 11am.

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Who names these beers?

Less civilised was the Bull’s kitchen closing at 6pm on a Sunday night. After a half of Wight Squirrel (lovely name!) at the Vaults, we had another of Hop Goes the Beagle (!) at The Old George Inn (www.theoldgeorge.com), a cosy 16th-century pub offering accommodation and known for its live music.

After that, dinner at the decidedly 21st-century Indian-Bangladeshi Kardamom Lounge (www.kardamomlounge.com), mainly because it was still open. Its ten-quid Sunday Gourmet deal included starter, main, side dish and bread or rice. Good service, good value and generally good and plentiful food, though the chicken vindaloo was, we agreed, so volcanically hot as to be virtually uneatable.

Gratuitous Limerick

A sign for Buckingham on the route back to Reading made me wonder aloud to Roy whether there might be a dirty limerick about that first-mentioned town. There was, yes, and the old sailor in him recalled and recited it at once. It’s far too filthy to repeat here, but I’m going to do so anyway:

There was a young man from Buckingham,

Who stood on the bridge at Uppingham,

Watching the stunts of the c***s in the punts

And the tricks of the pricks who were f***ing’em.

(Sorry.)

British Grand Prix 2016 at Silverstone

With Lewis Hamilton on pole again, Roy’s hoping for rain during the race, to make things “more interesting than the old procession, with the two Mercedes way ahead of everyone else.” With just 10 minutes to go, it’s pouring – and is that hail? Oh, wait – the sun’s come out!

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Roy’s last British Grand Prix was about 30 years ago, he says. His cousin, Anthony (Tony) Jardine, was doing PR for Camel in those days – when cigarette brands were major sponsors of Formula One, along with JPS, Marlborough, Rothmans et al (and many of us used to smoke, remember?). Camel was sponsoring Lotus at the time, he says.

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And here Roy is again – this time with me – at the 2016 British Grand Prix. Our tickets to the fabulous Woodcote Apex hospitality suite were arranged by Roy’s daughter Wendy as her gift to him for his 65th birthday (thanks again, Wendy!), once again through Tony. (He, of course, is still very involved in F1, and motor sports in general: he races and rallies in his own right.)

Silverstone is infamous for diabolical traffic, and the usual English midsummer rain makes things worse. Having set off from the marina at Reading at the ungodly hour of 6.15am, however, we had a clear run through. From our designated Parking Area 26, it’s about a 10-minute walk to Woodcote, and we walk in just in time for coffee and breakfast. Drinks flow from 10.30am all the way through to the suite’s closure at 6pm; a buffet lunch is served from 11.30am.

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There’s plenty to keep the punters occupied at the F1 Village. Merchandise from the various teams is on sale; there’s a Giant Wheel, London Karting doing electric go-karts, Segways, a bungee trampoline and more. And I’ve been in England long enough to appreciate the fact that the weather’s mainly “dry” – actual sunshine is always hoped for, but never really expected.

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When the race ends at 3pm, there’s the Grand Prix After Party, hosted by cousin Tony – The Feeling and The Dolls will perform. We have backstage tickets! – and a room for the night booked at The Bull, at Stony Stratford. Let the games begin!

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Thames cruise from Caversham to Goring

Our Dutch barge Karanja‘s second trip, upriver again from Thames & Kennet Marina to Goring, was more eventful than our maiden voyage (see previous post) – but all good practice.

After a bit of traffic, the Karanja came up to Caversham Lock behind a hire boat under the control (understand that I use the term loosely) of two retirement-age couples: this was their first lock, they said. We were to share it with them, along with another two boats that came in behind us. That the wine was flowing freely probably didn’t help, and it was with relief that we passed the revellers before the next lock. So, two new experiences: sharing a lock with other boats, and having to sound our horn to request another boat to move to starboard when it’s about to be passed.

Goring Lock and its adjacent weir

Goring was as lovely as our marina friends had promised. We were lucky to score the last space on the 24-hour free mooring, on the right, just before Goring Lock.

Our mooring at Goring…

… and from the other side

It’s an exquisite old waterside village of flint-and-brick dwellings, complete with desirable facilities for its evidently affluent villagers. We popped into: McColl’s store (for milk); The John Barleycorn Inn (Strongbow on tap, hake goujons and herby olives in a sunny garden); The Goring Grocer (scrumptious fare straight out of their oven, including the best and fattest pork-herb-garlic sausage rolls ever); and The Miller of Mansfield, an 18th-century coach-house with an award-winning restaurant (for dinner).

The Miller at Goring

Roy in the beer garden at John Barleycorn, Goring

Our marina friends also highly recommend Italian restaurant Rossini’s, and neighbouring Moulsford’s Beetle and Wedge Boathouse, doubly immortalised in Kenneth Graham’s The Wind in the Willows and Jerome K. Jerome’s Three Men in a Boat. We’ll have to do that next time.

And I made a new friend on the towpath – a South African called Michelle, who told me how to deal with cattle that might block your way. (There literally was a bull at a gate.) “Make yourself as big as you can,” she advised. “Hold your arms wide, move them back and forth, and go ‘Wo, wo!’ as you march forward, to show them who’s boss.” Well, I’ll know for next time. Thanks, Michelle!

Above: Charming sign in Goring’s village green; Below: Goring lockhouse

Homeward bound

Though we’d sworn to be fair-weather sailors, and it was raining quite steadily, after two nights in peaceful Goring it was time to head home to our berth at Thames & Kennet Marina.

Three hours of cruising downriver through the rain brought a few new firsts:

* Turning into the downstream current from our berth

* A brief encounter with the lock wall at Whitchurch, where we lost about six inches of paint from the “rubbing straight” – that’s what it’s for, isn’t it?

* Practising an emergency stop

* Coming up to canoeists spread across the river right where we needed to turn across the river to enter the marina

* Berthing in the marina in the face of a strong wind – not easy!

The more we cruise, the more we learn about handling a barge in various conditions. Our next trip will be downstream to Sonning, which involves negotiating the reputedly tricky Sonning Bridge.

Maiden voyage to Pangbourne

Log: 21 June

Left Thames & Kennet Marina at 10.30am on a partly sunny morning, headed upstream for Caversham Lock – Karanja’s maiden lock, with a weir to starboard. Mapledurham Lock similarly weir to starboard. Both locks manned. Moored overnight on port bank just before Whitchurch Toll Bridge, alongside Pangbourne Meadow. Steaming time 2.75 hrs.

Happily uneventful, our maiden voyage was. After a week in the marina, we’d initially settled on Monday, 20 June as the big day – when any Sunday trippers would have departed. But it promised to pour with rain, so we postponed till Tuesday. Good move, that, as it gave me a chance to practise a bit with those dreaded ropes.

Unlike the locks on the canals we’ve visited, ones on the Thames River are manned, and very friendly and helpful the guys are, too. One at Caversham kindly pretended not to notice that I’d embarrassingly flung my entire line ashore when we came alongside at the lock approach. The second and final lock of the day, Mapledurham, has a daunting approach featuring a wide and churning weir to the right; the lock itself is classified as a deep one (with a drop of 6 feet, 9 inches), so you don’t want to be stopped too far forward in the lock chamber when the white water starts gushing in.

Our mooring at Pangbourne Meadows was beautiful, just before the graceful curve of Whitchurch Toll Bridge – which bridge (pictured below) is said to have been described as ugly by the 19th-century narrator in Jerome K. Jerome’s Three Men in a Boat – not to mention the dog. (Hilarious stuff that I’ve just started reading).

Jogging recce

Before we set off from T&K Marina on our maiden voyage, I’d already explored the first leg of the journey by jogging along the towpath a few miles past Caversham Bridge and back again; very like the way a dog taken for a walk and let off its leash will run backwards and forwards.

A busy old day on the Thames tow path, near Caversham Bridge.

What is this peculiar bird? (Note to self: buy a book on waterfowls.)

Graceful Whitford Toll Bridge is still privately owned – motorists pay 40p to cross, but it’s free for pedestrians.

Moored at pleasant Pangbourne Meadows, within walking distance of The Swan.

It was the same story after we’d tied up at Pangbourne Meadows. Leaving Roy to boaty pursuits, I did a recce to find The Swan, Pangbourne’s 1642 waterside pub where we planned to do drinks and dinner later. (Good thing, too, as it was only on the way back that I found the best route, guaranteed to keep him in a good mood.)

Log: 22 June

As yesterday, but in reverse. Cast off at 10.30am in drizzle, two hrs downstream back to T&K Marina. Total engine hours 5.6.

It wasn’t supposed to rain the next morning, according to the forecast. But this is England, as people keep reminding me, so we set off in drizzle, me gamely facing the elements in a violently pink waterproof garment bought ages ago in Takashimaya’ sports department for this very day. (I’ve worked out the difference between winter and summer in England, by the way – in summer, you’re expected to wear colours.)

Downstream, this time, ourselves a bit more relaxed than yesterday and our speed a bit quicker with the force of the river at our stern. Safely back at D Pontoon no. 32, it was time for lunch and a celebratory glass of wine. Here’s to us!