We cast off just after 10.00 on what was to continue to be a lazy day
Followed by our neighbour
Newbridge SB, there isn't much room
Lawrence, out from under, with his head still attached and squinting into the morning sun
Crumbling timber wharves
The Union Salt Works - is still operating, we could see and hear the conveyer belt rattling away.
It is a massive rock salt mine. 500' down its galleries extend for well over 100 miles. Nowadays the bulk of the mines production is used for road de-icing. However it's worked out seams now provide secure storage for all manner of records and valuable artefacts.
Salt was being mined in this part of Cheshire before the Roman occupation. The 'wich' bit of place names such as Northwich and Middlewich derive from an OE word meaning salt works.
We are guessing this is the raw product waiting to be processed
More wharf remains
And guessing this is some of the mining waste, but not sure
And, guessing again, under wraps, rock salt ready to go
After passing Union Salt, which seemed to go on forever, we had a short secluded stretch
And then passed the Red Lion (where lunch awaited) to Winsford Bottom Flash - caused by mining subsidence.
L and I had, at this point, a little contretemps, he of course, being one of the slightly dim witted sex, wanted to see how far we could go, DESPITE all the warnings in the guide book, advice from the Lockkeeper, not to mention the notices at the flashes entrance and despite the home owner standing at the waters edge gesticulating madly at him. I, on the other hand, had read all the warnings, listened to the lockie and took heed of the homeowner. I did not want the ignominy of running aground out there somewhere.
Needless to say, that I was very relieved that on this occasion, I won. We winded, and went into the mooring basin with, yes you guessed it, a water point. L progressed through the 3S's while I filled the water tank from another gushing geyser of a tap and finished my washing and hung it in the bow (whereupon it immediately started to rain).
With Lawrence clean, sparkling and newly shaven, and with the water tank full and my washing hanging in the shower recess, we reversed out of the basin, leaving our boatie buddy there as he was staying to do some shopping
We went back down the Weaver a short way and moored up outside the Red Lion which is just through the bridge
We lashed out and chose 3 tapas plates to share and a main course each. The tapas plates proved to be huge and delicious. We were already replete when our main courses arrived and they seemed very ordinary compared to the tapas and we left them only have eaten and even then we waddled our way to the boat.
L decided he had just enough energy left from digesting for the 45 minute cruise back to last nights mooring spot. With sun shining again and the washing hung in the bow once more, we set off.
Back through the attractive part
One this stretch we felt as if we were heading up the Orinoco - narrow, twisting with big floating clumps of luxuriant weed to be avoided
And 20 minutes later we were moored back on the same rings as last night. L read in the sun for a little while and then decided he needed to sleep off lunch. Since I started writing this 3 more boats have moored up. I'm thinking about going for a walk, but my new novel also beckons, tricky tricky. The late afternoon is pouring through the windows, the only noise is bird song (no, Lawrence isn't snoring). - life is pretty sweet.
PS his lordship has arisen, slightly grumpy and cold, as often happens after an afternoon nap and said "that thing [the blog] is taking longer than the day took, soon you'll be going backwards"😄😀
5 miles, 4 1/2 hours
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