Newsletter
A Homecoming... to Where?
On the conclusion, and on moving on in a different way
Richard Grove
Newsletter
A Bostin' Blow Through Bandit Country
A big day of it, 8 and a half hours without a by-your-leave or a stop for coffee. 14 locks, three canals, the M6 and the Aston Expressway, and finishing the day digging down past the pilings to find somewhere to anchor the mooring chain. We did the Birmingham run
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There and Back Again
An Unexpected Journey, or Getting the Run Around
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So Near And Yet Not So Near At All
So, that’s it then. The initial month-long closure turned swiftly into six weeks, and then just as quickly into three months at least. We all saw it coming; the diplomatic way that Waterways staff used qualifiers such as “hope", “plan", and “aim" were the giveaway. Well,
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'Til the Landslide Brings You Down
I've tried to write this post a few times; most frequently in the early hours of the morning when stress turns into insomnia and rest cannot be bought with care nor medicine. When reading the drafts back however, they strike me more as entitled whining than updates and
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Step into Christmas, Drift into the New Year
A bit of midwinter footage to finish off the story of 2023. Here is part of Christmas Eve’s afternoon run, itself cut short because I’d left the boat key at home and had to drag us both back down the bypass (sorry about that). I’ve already written
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Days that Vanish in the Gloaming
Here it is, the end of the year. Or, there it was, at least. It's already been Christmas and New Year, despite it still being a few weeks away just a few minutes ago. An entire week has passed in the mere seconds since I started this draft.
Newsletter
A Late Summer Expedition
Hello all, well it looks like I’ve finally resolved the video upload glitch here, so in celebration here is a good 90 odd minute cruise through the Stoke area and into Staffordshire proper, coming to rest at a pub named bizarrely enough, after the actor Neil Morrissey. The mind
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Closing Chapters
The end of the Trent and Mersey
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To Absent Friends
Step aboard again, a short journey this time. The cool autumn air takes the comfort from the body; a little from the soul, too. Another year is on the wane, already; heady days pass into memory and away to the ether with falling housedust and retreating echoes. The clank of
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Into the Chase
Staffordshire always strikes me as a busy county. One of roadsalt-greyed grass verges and constant roadworks. Huge roadside pubs, always boarded up; nobody ever having time for a swift libation, I assume, it being so busy round here. This view is borne largely from experience; I've travelled through
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Past the South Portal
Into Stoke and beyond