Shardlow

 92 miles from the Mersey in the west, lies sleepy Shardlow, a village the developers forgot. In the 19th C it was the inland port where coastal traffic from the North Sea ran up the mighty River Trent to discharge their cargo. Great warehouses line the canal, some retaining the old cranes. At least one spanned the canal, so goods could be offloaded directly into storage. 

So from Shardlow we join the Trent and Mersey, once more on true inland waterways, no more vast river locks,  tides, scarce mooring points.

And once again we enjoy the compa




ny of friends, for deep conversations as well as whimsy and silliness.

Now we run west, heading to a temporary mooring, hoping for rain in the catchments, and passage north.


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