Something else which worked well were the Motorola Talkr T5 PMR radios I bought the other week. Locks were becoming overly complicated with the shouting & toing & froing while I was parked wondering what was happening & we were walking between the boat & the lock to communicate (not confident enough to get very close before we know there’s room, you see) but now we can give each other a running commentary & take the piss out of each other at the same time. Lovely.

And the kids have a Talkr T3 each too, which I would have killed for at their age. Lots of fun to be had in the woods near the house while we pretend to get lost.

A long one too, but ultimately a good one & I’ve been reminded why we started this in the first place. After initially turning right from Castle Marina & heading for the city centre we turned around & headed for Beeston Lock. It took a while & I hadn’t thought about it much before but this a quite a busy little area where people visit to stare at boats & watch them go through the lock, always assuming of course that they know what they’re doing. We’ve been here as ‘tourists’ before when Lizzie was small & before Martha came along, & it was a favourite of my parents’ back in their babysitting days.

A brief stop for an ice cream & spin along the Trent & it was through the lock again & back to the new mooring (easier to park), replenish the water supply & make a half-hearted effort at cleaning the boat. Which is still called Maggie Winn, by the way.

So, eight hours on the boat, & I’m knackered but replete.