Posted on

A Hot Weekend on the Grand Union Canal

Some boating weekends are memorable for dramatic scenery or ambitious cruising. Others stay with you because of good friends, long summer evenings—and someone unexpectedly falling into the canal.

Our weekend with Neil and Naomi brought all three.

From a late-night reunion beside Gayton Junction to a sun-soaked afternoon at Stoke Bruerne, seven locks and an involuntary swim for Chris, it was a wonderfully relaxed escape on the Grand Union Canal.

Friday: arriving at Gayton Junction

We drove to Gayton Junction after work on Friday evening, arriving at approximately 9.30pm.

By then, the heat of the day had begun to soften and the towpath was settling into the quiet of a summer evening. Neil and Naomi were waiting for us, and it was lovely to see them again.

Despite the late hour, nobody was ready to go straight to bed. We took our drinks outside and sat together beside the canal, catching up on everything that had happened since we had last met.

Boats rested quietly along the bank while the final traces of daylight faded from the sky. What had begun as a practical late arrival soon became one of the most enjoyable parts of the weekend.

There was nowhere else we needed to be and no schedule to follow. We simply spent a few hours talking, laughing and enjoying the warm evening beside the water.

It was well after midnight before we finally retired for the night.

Saturday: cruising towards Stoke Bruerne

Saturday brought intense sunshine and the promise of a beautiful—but exceptionally hot—day on the canal.

After a leisurely start, we set off along the Grand Union towards Stoke Bruerne. This attractive stretch of waterway passes through peaceful Northamptonshire countryside before reaching one of the best-known canal villages in Britain.

The settled weather made the canal look particularly inviting. Sunlight reflected from the surface, the surrounding vegetation was at its summer best and passing boats exchanged the familiar waves and greetings.

At narrowboat speed, however, there is no escaping a heatwave. The person steering receives the full benefit of the sunshine, while everyone else conducts an increasingly determined search for shade.

Lunchtime at The Boat Inn

By midday, we were ready to stop at Stoke Bruerne and seek refreshment at The Boat Inn.

Sitting beside the canal with cold drinks felt like an excellent response to the rising temperature. Stoke Bruerne was busy with walkers, visitors and boaters enjoying the sunshine, giving the village its familiar summer atmosphere.

After our drinks, the peak afternoon heat made further activity seem deeply unreasonable.

We therefore returned to the boat and adopted the most sensible possible boating strategy: an hour’s sleep.

Curtains were drawn, windows opened and the crew temporarily abandoned navigation in favour of surviving the hottest part of the day. It may not have advanced us very far along the canal, but it was unquestionably one of our better decisions.

Chris takes an unexpected swim

Once the temperature became slightly more manageable, it was time to untie and continue our journey.

Chris went to release the stern rope. Under ordinary circumstances, this would have been among the least eventful manoeuvres of the weekend.

On this occasion, however, something went wrong.

A misplaced foot—or perhaps an overly enthusiastic attempt to push the boat away—sent Chris directly into the canal.

One moment he was untying the stern; the next he had disappeared into the water beside it.

After the initial shock and the important confirmation that he was unharmed, sympathy inevitably gave way to laughter. On such a hot afternoon, falling into the canal might almost have appeared refreshing—although Chris was not entirely convinced that this improved the experience.

Once recovered, dried and reunited with what remained of his dignity, Chris returned aboard and we prepared to continue.

It was an unforgettable departure, if not one we would recommend repeating.

Descending the Stoke Bruerne locks

Our next challenge was the seven-lock Stoke Bruerne flight.

Lock flights create their own rhythm. Boats must be positioned, gates opened, paddles operated and ropes managed before the entire process begins again at the next chamber.

Working through seven locks in summer heat was demanding, but sharing the work between us made steady progress possible. The flight also gave us plenty of time to talk with other boaters and enjoy the changing views along the canal.

Chris approached the waterside tasks with understandable caution after his earlier experience.

Gradually, lock by lock, we descended the flight. The afternoon softened into evening and the temperature finally became more comfortable.

Dinner at The Navigation

After the locks—and considerably more physical activity than our midday sleep had prepared us for—we were ready for dinner.

The Navigation provided a welcome end to the day’s cruising. We settled down over food and drinks, reflecting on the sunshine, the locks and Chris’s unexpected contribution to canal safety demonstrations.

It had been a full day, but never a hurried one. We had cruised, stopped for drinks, slept through the worst of the heat, negotiated seven locks and still found time for an accidental swim.

Back aboard that evening, everyone was ready for a good night’s sleep.

A slow Sunday morning

Sunday began exactly as a boating Sunday should: slowly.

There was no alarm, no demanding itinerary and no pressure to begin moving. After Saturday’s heat and activity, we enjoyed a peaceful morning aboard before taking breakfast outside on the towpath.

Eating beside the canal while boats passed gently by was a simple but lovely conclusion to the weekend. The towpath was quiet, the morning felt unhurried and none of us was particularly eager to return to ordinary life.

Eventually, it was time to pack our belongings, say goodbye to Neil and Naomi and begin the journey home.

Friendship, sunshine and an unexpected splash

Our weekend on the Grand Union was not a grand expedition. It was something equally valuable: a few days spent slowing down with good friends.

The late-night conversation beside Gayton Junction, drinks at Stoke Bruerne, an afternoon sleep in the heat, seven locks and breakfast on the towpath each became part of the memory.

Chris falling into the canal ensured that we would never forget it.

Sometimes the best waterways adventures are not defined by distance travelled or destinations reached. They are simply about sharing time, laughter and the occasional minor disaster with people whose company makes every journey better.

Posted on

A Memorable Weekend Aboard Tilly Mint: Conquering Caen Hill

Some boating adventures begin with the gentle release of ropes and the reassuring rhythm of a narrowboat engine.

This one began with a breakdown on the M25.

We were joining our friends Neil and Naomi aboard Tilly Mint for a long-anticipated weekend on the Kennet and Avon Canal. The centrepiece would be Caen Hill—one of the most spectacular and demanding lock flights on Britain’s waterways.

First, however, we had to reach the boat.

Friday: The journey that refused to begin

We left home at 2pm, looking forward to an evening aboard Tilly Mint.

An hour later, our car broke down on the M25.

Three hours passed before the recovery service arrived and transported us to Basingstoke. We reached the rental-car office at around 7pm, only to face another two-hour wait for a replacement vehicle.

By the time we finally arrived at Tilly Mint, it was 10.30pm.

It was considerably later than planned, but Neil, Naomi and the boat were waiting. After the afternoon we had endured, simply stepping aboard felt like an achievement.

Saturday: Taking on Caen Hill

We began early on Saturday, setting off at 7am for the weekend’s principal challenge.

The full Caen Hill flight comprises 29 locks over approximately two miles, raising or lowering boats by 237 feet. Its most recognisable section is the central run of 16 locks, each accompanied by a large side pound.

Seen from a distance, the locks form an extraordinary piece of canal engineering.

Seen from the deck of a narrowboat, they also represent an enormous quantity of ropes, paddles and lock gates.

Working through the flight required concentration, coordination and considerable physical effort. There was little time to admire the view while moving between chambers, controlling the boat and preparing the next lock.

Nevertheless, the steady progress was immensely satisfying. Each opening gate took Tilly Mint another step through one of the greatest challenges on the Kennet and Avon Canal.

Reaching the end

We completed the day at around 5.40pm—more than ten hours after setting out.

We were tired, exhilarated and ready for a drink.

Fortunately, we found a wonderfully quirky pub where we could celebrate before continuing to an Italian restaurant for dinner and, inevitably, further refreshments.

After the motorway breakdown, recovery truck, rental-car delay and a full day working locks, it felt as though we had packed an entire holiday into little more than 24 hours.

Sunday: Lunch and the journey home

Sunday offered a much gentler conclusion.

We enjoyed a hearty lunch with Neil and Naomi before saying goodbye and beginning the journey home.

There were no major lock flights to tackle and, thankfully, no further roadside dramas.

A weekend to remember

The weekend had not begun as planned, but the difficult journey made finally reaching Tilly Mint feel even more rewarding.

Navigating Caen Hill was demanding, memorable and immensely satisfying—particularly when shared with good friends.

It was a short adventure containing a breakdown, a replacement car, 29 locks, excellent company and a well-earned celebration.

We would happily do most of it again.

Perhaps not the M25.

Posted on

A Tranquil Weekend on Tilly Mint—Cruising into Bath

Sometimes the shortest journeys provide exactly the escape we need.

For a peaceful weekend aboard Tilly Mint, we cruised along the Kennet and Avon Canal from Bathampton to Bath Top Lock. From there, the historic city centre—and an afternoon of relaxation at Thermae Bath Spa—was only a short walk away.

It was the perfect combination of slow travel, beautiful surroundings and time to unwind.

An evening cruise into Bath

We arrived at Bathampton on Friday evening and set off towards Bath as the sun began to sink across the canal.

Our journey was only a few miles, but there was no need to hurry. The pleasure came from settling aboard Tilly Mint, watching the scenery pass and feeling the working week gradually disappear behind us.

We moored near Bath Top Lock, approximately a mile from the city centre. It provided an ideal base from which to explore, combining a peaceful waterside setting with easy access to everything Bath had to offer.

Once Tilly Mint was safely secured, we walked into the city for dinner.

Bath’s Georgian architecture looked particularly beautiful in the evening light. We wandered through its historic streets before finding a restaurant and enjoying a relaxed meal together.

It was an excellent beginning to our weekend.

Exploring historic Bath

Saturday morning began with a leisurely walk around the city.

Rain was forecast, but the mild weather gave us time to explore before it arrived. Bath was already bustling with residents and visitors enjoying its shops, cafés and celebrated landmarks.

The city’s history is visible everywhere.

Its Roman Baths reflect its origins as a place of healing and relaxation, while Bath Abbey and the surrounding Georgian streets reveal later chapters in its remarkable development.

We explored at an unhurried pace, stopping at local shops and cafés before making our way towards the main event of the day.

Returning to Thermae Bath Spa

This was our third visit to Thermae Bath Spa, and it remained one of the highlights of spending time in the city.

The spa uses Bath’s naturally warm, mineral-rich waters, continuing a tradition that has attracted visitors for almost two thousand years.

Adam treated himself to a rejuvenating massage while Chris relaxed in the rooftop pool. Floating in warm water while looking across Bath’s historic rooftops provided a wonderful contrast to life aboard the boat.

The weather may have threatened rain, but that hardly mattered from the comfort of the pool.

After a few deeply relaxing hours, we emerged refreshed and ready to return to Tilly Mint.

Cruising back to Bathampton

Later that afternoon, we retraced our route along the Kennet and Avon Canal towards Bathampton.

Leaving the energy of the city behind, the gentle pace of the boat restored the tranquillity with which our weekend had begun.

This is one of the pleasures of visiting somewhere by narrowboat. A city break and a peaceful countryside escape do not need to be separate holidays—the canal connects the two.

By evening, we were back near Bathampton and ready for dinner at a cosy canalside pub.

Over classic pub food, we reflected upon a day of historic streets, warm spa waters and quiet cruising. Outside, the gentle movement of the canal provided the perfect backdrop.

One final morning aboard

Sunday arrived far too quickly.

After a relaxed breakfast aboard Tilly Mint, it was time to pack our belongings and head home.

We had travelled only a modest distance, but the weekend felt like a genuine escape. There had been no demanding itinerary and no pressure to cover miles—just time to enjoy the canal, explore Bath and relax together.

The pleasure of slow travel

Our weekend demonstrated that a memorable boating adventure does not need to involve a long journey.

Bathampton and Bath are separated by only a short stretch of the Kennet and Avon Canal, yet the route offered everything we needed: beautiful scenery, historic surroundings, excellent food and complete relaxation.

Cruising into the city aboard Tilly Mint made the experience feel particularly special.

It was a reminder that some of the greatest pleasures of canal travel can be found only a few peaceful miles away.

Posted on

Visiting the Braunston Marina Historic Boat Show

We had originally planned to arrive at Braunston aboard Tilly Mint.

Cruising into one of Britain’s best-known canal gatherings by narrowboat seemed the perfect way to experience it. However, reports of heavy traffic, crowded locks and slow progress persuaded us to exchange the waterways for the road.

It was not quite the entrance we had imagined—but it gave us more time to enjoy one of the highlights of the canal calendar.

A change of plan

Braunston occupies a special place within Britain’s inland waterway network.

Situated close to the junction of the Grand Union and Oxford canals, the village has been an important centre for boating and canal trade for centuries. Each summer, its marina welcomes an extraordinary gathering of historic narrowboats and former working boats.

Our original plan had been to cruise there aboard Tilly Mint. Arriving among a flotilla of other boats would undoubtedly have added to the occasion.

As the event approached, however, we began hearing reports of congestion, long queues at locks and exceptionally busy waterways. With only a weekend available, travelling by boat risked turning an enjoyable outing into a race against time.

We reluctantly left Tilly Mint behind and drove instead.

Arriving at Braunston Marina

Any disappointment quickly disappeared when we reached Braunston Marina.

The site was filled with historic boats, colourful paintwork and gleaming brass. Some vessels had worked Britain’s canals for generations, carrying cargo before the growth of road and rail transport transformed the network.

Their survival represents an enormous commitment from owners, volunteers and specialist craftspeople. Maintaining a historic narrowboat requires far more than fresh paint: traditional materials, engineering knowledge and countless hours of practical work are needed to preserve these vessels for future generations.

Walking among them felt like stepping into a living exhibition of canal history.

Historic boats on parade

The boat parades were among the highlights of our visit.

Watching the historic fleet manoeuvre through the marina provided an opportunity to see the boats doing what they were built to do. Engines chugged, horns sounded and crews exchanged instructions as each vessel passed before the gathered crowds.

The size and handling of the former working boats were particularly impressive. Originally designed to carry substantial loads, they were operated along narrow waterways, through confined bridge holes and into crowded locks—often by families who lived and worked aboard.

Seeing so many gathered together brought that history vividly to life.

Stories from the waterways

The boats were fascinating, but so were the people caring for them.

Owners and crews generously shared stories about their vessels, including their working lives, restoration and continuing journeys across the canal network.

Every boat appeared to have its own history. Some had been rescued from serious decline, while others had passed between generations of dedicated custodians. Their stories reflected the wider fortunes of Britain’s canals: commercial decline, abandonment, restoration and eventual revival as places for leisure, heritage and wildlife.

That combination of boats, people and personal histories gave the event its distinctive atmosphere.

Engines, craftsmanship and canal tradition

Away from the parades, we explored displays, demonstrations and stalls around the marina.

Traditional canal painting, handmade crafts, boating equipment and waterway artwork all contributed to the sense of occasion. Live music and food stalls created a relaxed festival atmosphere, with plenty of opportunities to pause and watch marina life unfold.

The historic engine displays proved especially interesting.

These engines possess a character very different from their modern equivalents. Their distinctive sounds, exposed engineering and carefully maintained components reveal both the ingenuity of their original designers and the skill of those who continue to operate them.

They were powerful reminders that preserving canal heritage involves machinery and practical knowledge as much as boats and buildings.

More than a collection of old boats

The Braunston gathering celebrates far more than beautiful vessels.

Historic boats provide a tangible connection with the people whose labour sustained Britain’s canal network. They carried coal, timber, steel and countless other goods between towns, factories and ports, helping to support the country’s industrial development.

Today, they also serve as moving ambassadors for the waterways.

Their continued presence encourages people to understand how the canals developed, why they mattered and why their future remains worth protecting.

A day well spent

By the end of the day, we were pleased that we had changed our plans.

Arriving aboard Tilly Mint would have been memorable, but driving allowed us to enjoy the event without worrying about queues, delays or the return journey. Sometimes boating requires flexibility—and occasionally the wisest boating decision is not to take the boat at all.

The show delivered everything we had hoped for: remarkable historic vessels, traditional craftsmanship, working engines and a community united by its enthusiasm for the waterways.

Celebrating living canal heritage

Our visit reinforced why events such as Braunston matter.

Britain’s historic narrowboats are not simply museum pieces. They remain working examples of the skills, industries and communities that shaped the canal network. Their preservation ensures that this history can still be seen, heard and experienced on the water.

We may have arrived on four wheels rather than by boat, but the day remained firmly rooted in canal life.

Next time, perhaps Tilly Mint will make the journey with us—although we may check the lock queues first.

Posted on

Returning to the Scene of the Crime: Tilly Mint Remains in Newbury

Six days after we nearly sank Tilly Mint while attempting to moor in Newbury, Chris and I returned to check on the boat—and decide whether it was safe to move her.

Our plan appeared straightforward: inspect the water levels and, if conditions had improved sufficiently, carefully take Tilly Mint back downstream.

Unfortunately, the Kennet & Avon Canal had other ideas.

Back to Newbury

The memory of our previous visit remained painfully fresh.

Strong flows had caught Tilly Mint as we attempted to moor, forcing her sideways and wedging her across the navigation. For 15 frightening minutes, we had struggled to regain control before five members of the public helped us bring her safely alongside the bank.

Leaving the boat in Newbury had been the only sensible option. Nevertheless, we remained concerned about her and hoped that a week of calmer conditions might allow us to move her somewhere safer.

As we travelled back to Newbury, we were cautiously optimistic.

That optimism did not last long.

The flooding had worsened

Rather than subsiding, the floodwaters had continued to rise.

The railway was disrupted by flooding, while replacement buses offered little assistance because several local roads were also affected. Simply reaching Newbury became considerably more difficult than expected.

It felt as though the entire transport network was delivering the same unmistakable message:

Do not move the boat.

When we finally reached the canal, the conditions confirmed it. Water levels remained dangerously high, the flow was powerful and the familiar waterway looked increasingly unpredictable.

Any hope of a gentle cruise back downstream quickly disappeared.

Assessing Tilly Mint

Our first priority was checking that Tilly Mint remained safe.

After the drama of the previous weekend, it was an enormous relief to find her still securely moored. We inspected the ropes, checked the boat and considered whether there was any safe way to move her.

There was not.

Attempting to set off would mean releasing Tilly Mint back into the same powerful flow that had overwhelmed us only days earlier—except conditions were now even worse.

Moving downstream might sound easier than travelling against the current, but strong water can carry a narrowboat far more quickly than expected. Bridges, bends, locks, weirs and moored boats leave very little margin for error once control is lost.

We had already received one warning. Ignoring the second would have been reckless.

The hardest decision was to do nothing

We had returned prepared to move the boat, but the responsible decision was to leave her exactly where she was.

It was disappointing. We wanted to take Tilly Mint somewhere safer and had hoped to spend the weekend aboard. After all the effort involved in reaching Newbury, turning around without cruising felt frustrating.

However, boating safely sometimes means accepting that the conditions—not the crew—will determine the plan.

No journey was worth risking the boat, ourselves or anyone who might once again have to come to our assistance.

We checked that Tilly Mint was as secure as possible, stepped back onto the towpath and left her to wait out the floods.

A lesson in patience

Canal boating is usually associated with freedom: releasing the ropes, choosing a direction and travelling at your own pace.

This experience reminded us that the waterways always retain the final say.

After prolonged rainfall, water levels and flows can change quickly. A stretch that normally appears calm can become hazardous, and confidence gained in ordinary conditions may offer little protection when nature behaves differently.

Knowing how to handle a boat is important. Knowing when not to move it can be even more important.

Waiting for calmer water

Our return to Newbury was not the adventure we had hoped for.

There was no cruise, no peaceful evening aboard and no satisfying moment when we finally carried Tilly Mint away from the scene of our narrow escape.

Instead, there was a careful inspection, a difficult decision and a journey home.

Yet doing nothing was unquestionably the right choice.

Tilly Mint would remain in Newbury until the floods subsided and the Kennet & Avon Canal became safe enough to navigate again. Our next adventure would simply have to wait.

Sometimes the most successful boating trip is the one during which the boat does not move at all.

Posted on

We Nearly Sank Tilly Mint: A Narrow Escape in Newbury

Our journey aboard Neil and Naomi’s narrowboat, Tilly Mint, from Hungerford to Newbury should have been a peaceful cruise along the Kennet & Avon Canal.

Instead, persistent rain, unusually strong flows and one frightening attempt to moor turned it into the closest we had ever come to losing control of the boat—and possibly sinking her.

Leaving Hungerford in difficult conditions

The weather had been poor, with recent heavy rainfall raising water levels and strengthening the flow along the canalised sections of the route.

We knew conditions were more challenging than usual, but the journey began without incident. Despite the drizzle, the Kennet & Avon remained beautiful: green countryside, trees leaning over the water and the familiar rhythm of locks carrying us towards Newbury.

The stronger flow demanded more concentration at bridges, bends and lock approaches, but we continued making steady progress.

As the day drew to a close, we began looking forward to securing Tilly Mint and settling down for the evening. We thought the most demanding part of the journey was behind us.

We were wrong.

The current takes control

As we attempted to moor in Newbury, the current caught Tilly Mint before we could bring her safely alongside the bank.

Within moments, the boat was being pushed sideways across the navigation. One end became trapped against the bank while the other was forced towards a moored boat on the opposite side.

We were wedged across the canal.

Normally, a narrowboat responds slowly but predictably. This time, the force of the moving water was greater than the control available from the engine and tiller. Every attempt to correct the boat’s position seemed to make another part of the situation worse.

The canal was no longer the calm, sheltered waterway we knew. It had taken control of the boat—and us.

Fifteen frightening minutes

For approximately 15 minutes, we struggled to free Tilly Mint.

The current continued pressing against the side of the hull, pinning the boat more firmly in place. The engine could provide power, but there was little room to manoeuvre and no safe angle from which to escape.

As the boat remained trapped awkwardly across the flow, the situation became genuinely frightening. A narrowboat caught against a strong current can begin to list, allowing water to reach openings that would ordinarily remain safely above the surface.

We became increasingly concerned that water might enter the boat. What had begun as a difficult mooring attempt now carried the very real possibility of serious damage—or worse.

Help arrives from the towpath

Thankfully, people nearby quickly recognised that we were in trouble.

Five members of the public came to help, taking hold of ropes and adding the strength we desperately needed from the bank. Their assistance gave us something the engine alone could not: the ability to control the boat from several directions at once.

Working together, we gradually changed Tilly Mint’s angle against the current. It was not a quick or graceful manoeuvre, but centimetre by centimetre the boat began to move.

Eventually, she came free.

With the helpers controlling the ropes from the towpath and those aboard managing the engine and tiller, we finally brought Tilly Mint safely alongside the bank.

The ropes were secured, the engine was stopped and, for the first time in what felt considerably longer than 15 minutes, we could breathe properly.

The kindness of strangers

Our overwhelming feeling was relief—but also gratitude.

The five people who stopped to help had no obligation to become involved. They saw a boat and its crew in difficulty and responded immediately.

Without them, freeing Tilly Mint against the force of the water would have been considerably harder and the outcome could have been very different.

Their kindness transformed a frightening situation into a powerful reminder of the community surrounding Britain’s waterways. When something goes wrong, assistance often comes from people who were strangers only moments earlier.

Respecting the water

The experience changed how we thought about boating in poor conditions.

Canals can appear gentle and predictable, particularly during calm weather. However, many sections interact with rivers, weirs, sluices and changing water levels. After prolonged rainfall, familiar stretches can behave very differently.

A heavy narrowboat may feel reassuringly solid, but it remains vulnerable when caught broadside by moving water. Once the flow takes control, the weight and momentum of the boat can make recovery extremely difficult.

Conditions must always be treated with respect, particularly when approaching locks, bridges, bends and moorings where space is limited.

Lessons from a narrow escape

Once Tilly Mint was safely secured, we could begin reflecting upon what had happened.

The experience reinforced several important lessons:

  • Check water conditions and warnings before setting out.
  • Allow considerably more room and time when manoeuvring in a strong flow.
  • Prepare ropes early and agree clearly who will do what.
  • Avoid becoming trapped broadside to moving water.
  • Never hesitate to accept—or call for—help.
  • If conditions feel unsafe, stopping early is better than pressing ahead.

Most importantly, never underestimate the power of water simply because it happens to be flowing through a canal.

An adventure we will never forget

Our cruise from Hungerford to Newbury became one of the most dramatic journeys we had experienced aboard Tilly Mint.

There was no triumphant arrival or elegant mooring—just an exhausted crew, a securely tied boat and enormous relief that everyone was safe.

It may become a story we can laugh about with the benefit of hindsight, but we will never forget the fear of being pinned across the canal or the sight of strangers rushing forward to help us.

Canal boating brings freedom, tranquillity and wonderful adventures. Occasionally, it also provides a sharp reminder that the waterways deserve our complete respect.

That day, teamwork and the kindness of five strangers prevented our narrow escape from becoming something much more serious.

Posted on

From Hungerford to Crofton aboard Tilly Mint

Two days after exploring the remarkable Crofton Beam Engines, we returned to the Kennet & Avon Canal aboard Tilly Mint to enjoy the journey through the landscape that those engines have helped sustain for more than two centuries.

Beginning in Hungerford, our route carried us through the peaceful countryside of the North Wessex Downs towards Crofton—a journey combining narrowboat life, beautiful scenery and some extraordinary waterways heritage.

Beginning in Hungerford

Our day began in the historic market town of Hungerford.

Known for its antiques shops and ancient Hocktide traditions, the town is surrounded by some of southern England’s most attractive countryside. The Kennet & Avon Canal passes quietly through it, offering a particularly inviting starting point for a journey by boat.

Once aboard Tilly Mint, we prepared to cast off and leave the town behind. Ropes were released, the engine settled into its familiar rhythm and we returned to the wonderfully unhurried pace of canal travel.

Into the North Wessex Downs

Beyond Hungerford, the canal enters a tranquil rural landscape within the North Wessex Downs.

Trees and hedgerows lined the water while open fields stretched towards the surrounding hills. Sheep grazed beyond the towpath, birds moved between the branches and the occasional waterside cottage appeared through the greenery.

From the stern of Tilly Mint, the landscape unfolded gradually. There was time to notice reflections moving across the water, listen to birdsong and enjoy the small details that would be missed when travelling by road.

The gentle sound of the boat moving through the water provided the soundtrack to our journey.

Life at narrowboat pace

A day aboard Tilly Mint was never simply about reaching our destination.

Canal travel creates its own rhythm. Locks and bridges divide the journey into a succession of small tasks, while stretches of open water provide time to relax, talk and enjoy the surroundings.

There is always something requiring attention: the position of the boat, an approaching bridge, activity at the next lock or wildlife deciding that the centre of the canal is the only reasonable place to be.

Yet none of it feels hurried. Progress is measured in miles rather than minutes, and the journey becomes every bit as important as the destination.

Approaching Crofton

As we continued towards Crofton, the engineering behind the canal became increasingly apparent.

The Kennet & Avon must climb to its summit before descending again towards Wiltshire and the Avon Valley. Maintaining sufficient water at this highest section was one of the greatest challenges faced by the canal’s original engineers.

Every boat passing through a lock carries water downhill. Without a reliable means of replacing it, the summit pound would gradually become unnavigable.

The solution was Crofton Pumping Station, built between 1807 and 1809 to raise water from the springs and reservoir below into the canal above.

Seeing Crofton from the water

Approaching Crofton aboard Tilly Mint gave us a different perspective from our earlier visit on foot.

The tall chimney and historic engine house rise beside the canal, immediately distinguishing the site from the surrounding countryside. It is an impressive reminder that even the most peaceful waterways depend upon substantial infrastructure.

Inside the Grade I-listed pumping station are two working steam-powered beam engines dating from 1812 and 1846. The older Boulton & Watt engine is celebrated as the world’s oldest working beam engine remaining in its original location and capable of performing its original purpose.

On selected steaming days, the engines still lift water into the summit pound—living machinery continuing the work for which it was created more than two centuries ago. Crofton Beam Engines

Engineering brought to life

Having recently explored the engine house, we could now connect the machinery inside with the waterway outside.

The great beams, pistons and pumps were no longer isolated museum exhibits. They formed part of the landscape through which Tilly Mint was travelling and helped explain how boats could continue navigating this elevated section of canal.

That connection made Crofton particularly memorable. The engines are magnificent examples of Industrial Revolution engineering, but their real significance becomes clearest when viewed alongside the canal they were built to serve.

Watching the water beside our boat, it was remarkable to consider the effort required to maintain something that appeared so calm and natural.

A pause beside the canal

Crofton provided an ideal place to pause and enjoy the surroundings.

The grounds overlook the canal and nearby railway, with the Wiltshire countryside extending beyond. It is a landscape shaped by several generations of transport history: canal boats moving at walking pace, trains passing nearby and historic steam engines standing between them.

After exploring, there was time to relax and reflect on the journey before returning to Tilly Mint.

A picnic beside the canal is one of boating’s simplest pleasures. Food somehow tastes better after a morning on the water, particularly when accompanied by attractive views and nowhere urgent to be.

Heritage that remains alive

The Kennet & Avon Canal has survived because generations of volunteers and campaigners refused to allow it to disappear.

The same spirit is evident at Crofton, where volunteers maintain the buildings, boilers and engines, operate the machinery and share its history with visitors.

Without their skill and commitment, the pumping station might have become a static monument—or been lost entirely. Instead, it remains connected to the working canal and continues to demonstrate the ingenuity of its original designers.

The Canal & River Trust describes the 1812 and 1846 engines as being among the world’s oldest working steam beam engines. Seeing their setting from the canal reinforced just how exceptional their survival is.

A journey through two landscapes

Our cruise from Hungerford to Crofton brought together two contrasting elements of the inland waterways.

There was the natural beauty of the North Wessex Downs: green fields, mature trees, wildlife and tranquil water. Alongside it stood the engineered landscape of locks, reservoirs, channels and pumping machinery that makes navigation possible.

Neither exists independently of the other. The apparent tranquillity of the canal is sustained by centuries of engineering, continual maintenance and the efforts of those who care for it today.

Travelling aboard Tilly Mint allowed us to experience both.

More than a destination

Crofton Beam Engines may have been our destination, but the journey from Hungerford was an essential part of the experience.

At narrowboat pace, we watched the landscape change, worked through the canal’s structures and gained a deeper appreciation of the infrastructure supporting the water beneath us.

It was another memorable day aboard Tilly Mint—and a wonderful reminder that Britain’s canals are not merely routes through the countryside. They are living pieces of history, best understood by travelling slowly through them.

Posted on

Cruising the Grand Union Canal Through Harefield

There are few better places to spend a hot summer’s day than aboard a narrowboat.

With the sun shining and the countryside at its most colourful, our cruise aboard Tilly Mint through Harefield offered a wonderfully peaceful escape. Although we were still within Greater London, the wooded banks, open water and abundant wildlife made the city feel remarkably distant.

It was one of those simple days on the waterways when the journey itself was more than enough.

A glorious day for cruising

The morning was already warm when Chris and I prepared Tilly Mint and set off along the Grand Union Canal.

Under a clear blue sky, the water reflected the surrounding trees and passing boats. The steady rhythm of the engine and the gentle movement of the canal immediately encouraged us to slow down and enjoy the day.

There was no need to hurry. We had sunshine, beautiful surroundings and another stretch of historic waterway ahead of us.

Through Harefield

As we cruised through Harefield, the canal became increasingly rural.

Harefield lies within the London Borough of Hillingdon, but from the water it feels far removed from London. Woodland, lakes and stretches of open countryside surround the canal, creating a landscape that seems much farther from the capital than it really is.

The trees offered occasional relief from the heat, their branches casting broken shadows across the water. Elsewhere, the canal opened beneath the full summer sun, leaving whoever was at the tiller with very little opportunity to escape it.

Fortunately, travelling at narrowboat speed produces just enough breeze to maintain the illusion of air conditioning.

Life at the tiller

Adam took the tiller for part of the journey while Chris relaxed aboard and enjoyed the scenery.

On a calm day, steering a narrowboat can feel almost effortless. The boat responds slowly, the canal unfolds gently ahead and there is time to appreciate details that would disappear at any greater speed.

Even so, narrowboats have an impressive ability to drift towards an overhanging branch whenever the person steering becomes too distracted by the view.

We passed other boats along the way, exchanging the familiar waves and greetings that are such an enjoyable part of life on the waterways. Some crews appeared entirely relaxed; others had the unmistakable expression of people approaching a bridge hole with more confidence than accuracy.

A landscape shaped by water

The canal through Harefield forms part of a much broader waterside landscape.

Nearby lakes, many created through historic gravel extraction, now provide valuable habitats for birds and other wildlife. Together with the canal, River Colne and surrounding woodland, they give this part of West London an unexpectedly wild character.

Swans moved elegantly across the water, ducks gathered along the banks and birds called from the trees above us. Every so often, movement among the reeds drew our attention away from the canal ahead.

The wildlife appeared largely unconcerned by Tilly Mint—although ducks continued their traditional practice of waiting until the last possible moment before swimming directly across our path.

The pleasure of slowing down

Hot weather can make almost any activity feel like hard work, but canal cruising provides its own solution: travel slowly, find occasional shade and keep plenty of cold drinks within reach.

The heat encouraged us to take the day gently. We paused when we wanted, enjoyed the quieter stretches and allowed the canal to determine our pace.

That is one of the greatest pleasures of narrowboating. A relatively short journey can occupy an entire day, not because progress is difficult, but because there is no reason for it to be fast.

The waterway invites you to notice the reflections, wildlife, historic bridges and small details along the bank that would otherwise pass unseen.

Evening on the canal

As the afternoon softened into evening, the light became warmer and the canal increasingly peaceful.

The fierce heat began to ease, replaced by a gentler breeze. Shadows lengthened across the water and the passing landscape took on the golden colour that makes summer evenings aboard a narrowboat feel particularly special.

Once Tilly Mint was safely moored, we could sit back with a drink and watch the remaining daylight fade across the canal.

Nothing extraordinary needed to happen. After a day spent travelling through sunshine and greenery, simply being beside the water was enough.

A summer day to remember

Our cruise through Harefield captured everything we enjoy about Britain’s inland waterways.

It combined beautiful scenery, wildlife and the freedom to travel at an unhurried pace. Most surprisingly, it offered a genuine sense of countryside and tranquillity while remaining within the boundaries of Greater London.

Days like this remind us that a narrowboat journey does not need dramatic locks, long tunnels or mechanical mishaps to become memorable.

Sometimes all you need is Tilly Mint, a peaceful stretch of canal and rather more sunshine than the person standing at the tiller expected.

Posted on

Through the Tunnels from Tardebigge to Alvechurch

Some canal journeys are remembered for their locks, landscapes or waterside villages. This one was defined by the moment daylight disappeared and Tilly Mint carried us into the hidden darkness beneath the Worcestershire countryside.

Cruising from Tardebigge towards Alvechurch took us through two historic canal tunnels, separated by a peaceful stretch of the Worcester & Birmingham Canal. It was a relatively short journey, but one filled with atmosphere, impressive engineering and the unmistakable thrill of travelling underground by narrowboat.

Leaving Tardebigge

Our journey began at Tardebigge, best known for its remarkable flight of 30 locks—the longest continuous flight in Britain.

Having previously experienced the considerable physical effort required to navigate the flight, we were pleased that today’s adventure involved a level stretch of canal. There would be no paddles to raise, heavy gates to push or hurried walks between locks. Instead, two tunnels stood between us and Alvechurch.

With Tilly Mint prepared and the tunnel light switched on, we left the wharf and headed north.

The canal was beautifully calm. Trees crowded the banks, their branches forming a leafy canopy above the water, while the surrounding countryside felt quiet and remote. It was a wonderfully peaceful beginning, although the dark entrance of Tardebigge Tunnel was already waiting ahead.

Into Tardebigge Tunnel

At approximately 580 yards long, Tardebigge Tunnel is modest compared with some of Britain’s great canal tunnels—but its entrance still appeared suitably dramatic from the deck of a narrowboat.

As Tilly Mint passed through the portal, daylight rapidly faded behind us. The warmth of the September afternoon gave way to cool, damp air, and the sound of the engine became louder as it echoed from the brick-lined walls.

Chris took the tiller, keeping the boat aligned with the distant point of daylight ahead, while Adam watched the cabin roof and tunnel sides carefully.

Travelling through a canal tunnel requires a different kind of concentration. Without the usual landmarks along the bank, judging the boat’s position becomes more difficult. The tunnel light illuminates only a small area ahead, while every sound seems magnified in the confined space.

There was something both peaceful and slightly unnerving about it. Above us, everyday life continued entirely unaware that Tilly Mint was moving slowly through the hillside below.

Back into the daylight

The far portal gradually grew larger until we emerged into brilliant daylight.

After the darkness of the tunnel, even an ordinary stretch of canal felt unexpectedly vivid. The greens appeared brighter, the sky seemed wider and the fresh air was particularly welcome.

The canal continued north through a quiet, wooded landscape. With Tardebigge Tunnel behind us, we had time to relax and enjoy the open water before reaching the second underground passage of the day.

It was not long, however, before the trees closed in again and the entrance to Shortwood Tunnel appeared ahead.

Shortwood Tunnel

At approximately 613 yards, Shortwood is slightly longer than Tardebigge Tunnel.

Once again, the tunnel swallowed the boat and the outside world disappeared. Water dripped from the roof, shadows moved across the brickwork and the engine’s steady rhythm echoed around us.

Although this was our second tunnel of the journey, the experience had lost none of its atmosphere. Each tunnel has its own character, created by the shape of its passage, the condition of its brickwork and the particular way every engine note reverberates through it.

The temptation is to focus entirely on the darkness, but there is also much to admire. These passages were created with limited machinery more than two centuries ago, allowing boats to travel through the landscape rather than negotiate steep climbs around it.

They remain working pieces of transport history—still carrying narrowboats beneath the same hills today.

Emerging towards Alvechurch

When Tilly Mint emerged from Shortwood Tunnel, we left the darkness behind for the final time.

The remaining cruise towards Alvechurch was gentle and relaxed. The canal wound through attractive countryside, passing beneath bridges and between stretches of woodland as we approached the village.

Alvechurch is one of those places that feels naturally connected to its waterway. Its pleasant moorings and welcoming pubs make it a popular stopping point, while the railway provides an unexpectedly convenient connection for anyone exploring the canal.

We found a suitable mooring, secured Tilly Mint and stepped ashore, ready for a well-earned drink.

An evening in Alvechurch

After the cool darkness of the tunnels, the warmth of the pub was particularly inviting.

We settled down over drinks and reflected on the journey. It had not involved many miles or a demanding series of locks, yet it had felt like a genuine adventure.

Canal tunnels transform an otherwise peaceful cruise into something much more atmospheric. For a few minutes, the familiar countryside disappears completely, leaving only the boat, the water and a distant opening of daylight.

Once safely moored, it was easy to enjoy the mystery of it all—without needing to worry about keeping several tonnes of narrowboat in the middle of a narrow underground passage.

Hidden history beneath the countryside

Our journey from Tardebigge to Alvechurch revealed another side of Britain’s inland waterways.

From above, the landscape appears peaceful and undisturbed. Beneath it lies an extraordinary network of historic engineering, created to carry working boats between Worcester and Birmingham and still serving boaters centuries later.

Passing through Tardebigge and Shortwood tunnels aboard Tilly Mint gave us the opportunity to experience that history rather than simply read about it.

It was a journey between two places, but also a passage between darkness and daylight, past and present, and the visible countryside and the remarkable waterway concealed beneath it.

Posted on

A Relaxing Journey from Banbury to Thrupp

There is something wonderfully restorative about travelling slowly through the English countryside by narrowboat.

With no timetables to follow and nowhere we needed to reach quickly, our journey aboard Tilly Mint from Banbury to Thrupp offered the perfect opportunity to escape everyday life and settle into the gentle rhythm of the Oxford Canal.

It was a weekend of historic locks, peaceful moorings, beautiful countryside and the simple pleasure of spending time together on the water.

Leaving Banbury

Our journey began in Banbury, a historic market town whose prosperity was once closely connected to the wool trade and the arrival of the Oxford Canal.

Close to our starting point stood Tooley’s Boatyard, one of the oldest working dry docks on Britain’s inland waterways. With more than two centuries of boatbuilding and repair behind it, it was a fitting place from which to begin another adventure aboard Tilly Mint.

After negotiating Banbury Lock, the buildings of the town gradually receded and the canal led us into open countryside.

The change of pace was almost immediate. Traffic noise gave way to birdsong, the engine settled into its steady rhythm and the water stretched quietly ahead beneath a warm July sky.

Settling into canal time

One of the great pleasures of narrowboating is how quickly ordinary ideas about time begin to disappear.

Progress is measured not in motorway junctions or train stations but in locks, bridges and the occasional waterside pub. There is always something to do, yet very little reason to hurry.

Chris took his turn at the tiller while Adam prepared lunch aboard. Later, we found a suitable place to moor, brought out the chairs and ate beside the towpath with uninterrupted views across the surrounding countryside.

It was a simple lunch, but that was part of its charm. Food somehow tastes better outdoors after several hours on the water—particularly when accompanied by passing boats, birds in the hedgerows and the satisfaction of having nowhere else to be.

An evening near Twyford Wharf

As the afternoon drew on, we reached the quiet stretch around Twyford Wharf and found a peaceful place to spend the night.

Once an important canal wharf, the location is now a tranquil stopping point surrounded by rural Oxfordshire. After the engine was switched off, the silence returned almost instantly.

We spent the evening talking, watching the light fade across the water and enjoying the wonderfully uncomplicated nature of life aboard Tilly Mint. There were ropes to check and tomorrow’s route to consider, but otherwise the evening belonged entirely to us.

The towpath became quieter, the canal settled and the boat gently moved against its mooring as darkness fell.

Through the Oxfordshire countryside

The following morning, we continued south towards Aynho.

This section of the Oxford Canal follows a wonderfully meandering course through open countryside. Rather than cutting directly through the landscape, it curves around fields and follows the natural contours of the land, revealing a fresh view around almost every bend.

Adam kept his camera close, capturing the wildlife, historic brick bridges and passing narrowboats. Herons watched from the bank while ducks appeared entirely unconcerned by our presence—until deciding, at the last possible moment, to cross directly in front of the boat.

The route brought us to Aynho Weir Lock, an unusual diamond-shaped lock where the canal connects with the River Cherwell. Its broad central chamber provides additional capacity to accommodate the changing water levels created by the river.

It was another reminder that even the most peaceful canal journey depends upon centuries of engineering, maintenance and careful water management.

The final approach to Thrupp

From Aynho, we continued south through the Oxfordshire countryside towards Thrupp.

By this point, we had settled completely into life aboard. Steering, locks, ropes and cups of tea formed the pattern of the day, while the landscape moved past at walking pace.

There was no desire to arrive any sooner than necessary. The journey itself had become the purpose of the weekend.

Eventually, the attractive moorings of Thrupp came into view. Narrowboats lined the water’s edge, walkers passed along the towpath and the village possessed the relaxed atmosphere that makes it one of the Oxford Canal’s most popular stopping places.

We brought Tilly Mint alongside, secured the ropes and stepped ashore to explore.

A warm welcome at The Boat Inn

After several days on the canal, a hearty meal at The Boat Inn felt thoroughly deserved.

Situated beside the water in the heart of Thrupp, the pub provided a cosy conclusion to our journey. Over food and drinks, we looked back over the miles travelled, the locks negotiated and the quiet moments that had made the trip so enjoyable.

Nothing dramatic had happened. There had been no navigational crisis, mechanical disaster or unexpected encounter with dense fog. Instead, the journey had given us something equally memorable: time to slow down, enjoy each other’s company and appreciate the landscape through which we were travelling.

Sometimes the best adventures are the peaceful ones.

Rediscovering the pleasure of slow travel

Our journey from Banbury to Thrupp was about far more than moving a narrowboat between two places.

It was an opportunity to experience the Oxford Canal as it was meant to be enjoyed: slowly and without unnecessary urgency. We had time to notice the wildlife, admire the bridges, pause beside the towpath and watch the countryside unfold around us.

Trips like this remind us why the waterways hold such a special place in our lives. They offer freedom without speed, adventure without pressure and a connection to both landscape and history that is difficult to find elsewhere.

By the time we reached Thrupp, we felt rested, reconnected and already reluctant to leave Tilly Mint behind.

The Oxford Canal had once again demonstrated that travelling slowly does not make a journey less interesting. It simply gives you more time to enjoy it.