Slow travel

22/5/2018 Travelling south east from the west midlands, late Spring, a rural path down the Trent & Mersey to the Staffordshire  Canal, heading towards Birmingham. Some lovely misty mornings, cross country walks on the public footpath system - an amazing resource. In books such as Larks Rise to Candleford, the origin of these paths is explained. People mostly walked, horses were for the wealthier, so all of rural England is linked by these paths. Stiles to cross fences, footbridges across streams. No map is needed for the shorter walks,  as you simply assume that the path will lead you to the church steeple in the distance,  or the field you cross will have a simple footpath arrow on the other side, and walking in a loop or circuit will lead you back to your starting point.  Not knowing what you will discover, is one of the delights. The very settled nature of even the countryside,, with small enterprises like the home made bread, or farm gate eggs and milk, pleasant adjuncts to ou

18/5/2018 'Shareholder value' is the mantra of companies, to be enhanced and protected. This is the board's legal obligation. How this is usually interpreted it seems to me, is through a narrow focus on immediate profits and dividends. And achieved through risky acquisitions, sacking of staff to achieve higher productivity, replacement of higher paid employees with less experienced and 'cheaper' minions, outsourcing or subcontracting. Not to mention illegal behaviour- as exposed with the banks in Oz . Behaviour such as this is shortsighted, exploitative and can be disastrous for companies' long term survival and financial health. Such a contrast to Germany's 'mittelstand' companies. So how refreshing to read an article (The Daily Telegraph 8 May 2018) by the leader Phillip Ullmann, of a company, the Cordant Group, with an annual turnover of £850 million.    •  executive salaries are capped at 20 times the salary of the lowest paid employee   

The Caldon Canal, like many, began as a way of transporting limestone the 17 miles from the western slopes of the Pennines to its junction with the Trent and Mersey Canal. It survived the closures of other branch canals because of its water source, like the stone, from the Pennines. Now a lovely green quiet channel, which we followed to the town of Leek- from Norse for water, we read. Moored with reeds and nettles rampaging along the bank, JJ slips the plank across, so we can walk the 2 miles or so to a pub, the menu including a Limestone Lobby- apparantly a stew! A photo below of a box at the back of the boat- it gives the steerer extra height, to see over the length of the boat, and is known as a Pavarotti box. A new and welcome addition to Santiago. Another pic of a star shaped mark in a stone in the lock chamber- the stonemason's mark. We've heard that the mark was made so that the mason could show the number of stones he'd  made, and be paid accordingly.

It is 20 April, a muggy night in Changi Airport. I am alone- as standby passengers we were offered one seat for the onward swoop of QF1. We decided I'd  take it, as JJ retains some priority, while on my own, I don't. He is also a more robust solo traveller than I. He will exit the airport, find a hotel, and hopefully get a solid sleep. Leaving the Kanimbla Valley on Wednesday was sad, the hills, trees, sky, imprinting in our memory. The interior of the house now so near completion, that it pulls us to stay.several nigjts ago Phil made the firat sighting ever of a wombat on our place, atrolling across the drive above the house. Back home for 2 nights, loving the bonds of family, walking Molly, swimming at Leichhardt, chatting round the dinner table with Nick, James and Katrina, who is a much valued addition to the Rosedale residents. Again it was hard to leave the young'uns behind, a bond stretching back, a boating life pulling us forward. Tomorrow I'll reach Portsmo

A perfect  summer's day , the chill grey of a wintery Spring, 4 layers of clothing, hat, scarf- the complete wrap up- a distant memory. Our Oz friends came aboard in Macclesfield, happily ensconsed, entertaining us and others as they set up easels on the tow path. One boater moored near us,  drives a truck in Europe, said he was in tears watching W paint. It's always fascinating seeing the artist's perceptions take shape. A leak from the canal in Macclesfield created a minor delay, as the offending section was firat dammed, then drained, large submersible pumps taking the water to the upside of the dam, while men in waders struggled in the mud, sandbags, shovels, and quickset concrete in action. Meantime boats were banking up, moored abreast,  a group watching the workers in action. By 7pm ithe leak was repaired, and we decided to cruise on.... a failure of the repair was a possibility,  as was a queue for the descent of the 12 Bosley locks. We tackled these yesterday mo

Our mooring here is a delight- quiet, rural, Canada geese mowing the grass- the pic taken from our dining window. We move off today, heading to the Peak Forest canal, the short arm of 6 miles, a turn east at Marple Junction. Will moor overnight half way along, to meet up with cousins by marriage who live here, in the foothills of the Pennines. Yesterday JJ hung the delightful painting of Cornish farmland, with the artist himself coming aboard later this week, for a few days.  So there was a rush on to frame and hang it. Nick's collage hangs nearby, a reminder of Symi. The small print gives a glimpse of David Hockney's perspective of the Yorkshire Dales. And the paintings on the hatch were done by the boat builder from photos provided by the original owner. On a small boat we feel lucky to have so much art. Yesterday evening after dinner we walked part of the Middlewood Way, an old rail trail running to Macclesfield, back along the towpath. About 6 miles, only a few dog walk

And so another wandering the waterways of England begins. After our usual jet lag recoup with our good friends in Southsea, a trip to Chichester, walks along the Solent, we headed north to the Macclesfield Canal. Back to Santiago, lying safely at High Poynton, on Wednesday last week, to find everything OK. The 2 solar panels had kept the batteries charged, the heating worked, and  we happily made the bed, stashed away several bags of groceries, cooked dinner, and generally wallowed in the boat haven. As we still had the car, we crossed the Pennines to Harrogate, for a fine catch up with cousins Michael and Denise, then back over the Pennines via Skipton to cousins Linda and  Jimmy on Morecombe Bay (a pic of Linda and JJ on our walk along the dyke). A week today since JJ arrived, and we are both fine, over jet lag, settling in, hopefully for months of walking, cruising, assisting the British economy as it Brexits. And enjoying the company of intrepid souls who like locks, wet weathe