I spent most of the summer painting my roof and other stuff, with an interlude in the house in France. However, as summer faded into autumn I needed to search out somewhere to hibernate or at least make my way to Brum, I haven't been for some years. With the latter getting further away with the stoppages due at various places. I was going to go with the 'lets stay around the Oxford area' scenario.
You may imagine my surprise when, out of the blue, I was offered a mooring at the famous Tooley's. I love Tooley's because it has such wonderful history. Here on the wharf I feel visited by the spirits of bygone boaters. Only yesterday I 'imagined' seeing a young girl standing near the end of my boat when I let Molly out for a pee! It was a fleeting glance that disappeared as I stepped down off the stern, changing my viewing angle. Trick of the light?
I am moored about 30 feet from the lift bridge. After being here just a few days I learned why the previous incumbent had moved on. It seems the operation of the bridge is quite a problem for some. Now I can understand single handers struggling to get the bridge open and they may have to nudge me in the process What I do find unacceptable is crewed boats 'whacking' me, quite unnecessarily. There are bollards opposite to tie up, let off the crew who can then cross the bridge to lift it to let the boat through, but No! Stupidity reigns! I wont complain.
And why is it that having just passed several moored boat there is a need to throw the engine into reverse at max chat to slow down so they don't hit the bridge. I might complain.
Susan has been to see the mooring. She says the terrace garden needs attention. Well that's not going to happen!