Day 30, Little Venice
I've spent nearly all of today siting on the foredeck, not exactly soaking up the sun, because it was very overcase, but it wasn't raining, and I sat there in my now very grubby hippy jumper soaking up the Little Venice atmosphere and generally getting rather pensive.
I go home on Sunday, you see. I told work I'd be gone a month, and I've promised them that I'll be back on Monday. A brilliant plan has been hatched to allow Jim to continue without me, in the company of Lucky Duck. Thus he gets help with locks and stuff and doesn't have to face the Nene single handed, and they get back-up and towage should it be required, and hopefully peace of mind if it's not. They're here in Little Venice now, and we'll meet up again in Uxbridge on Saturday night. Jim has been reading the Nicholsons and WW guides, and tactlessly wondering about the Blisworth Tunnel and how many locks to Northampton. But never mind; I will do the GU one day, as I always intended, in one fell swoop from Brentford to Birmingham.
I amused myself with a little birdwatching, anthropormorphising the coots (Mum: Here, I've brought you a nice twig. I thought it would look nice on your wall there. Teenage son coot: God mother, you're so lame, what do I want a stupid twig for? Can you get me some food? I'm starving. Later... Mum: Look! I've found a lovely bit of red plastic. I thought it would brighten up that corner over there. TSC: What would I want a crappy old bit of plastic for? It's not even new. Can you get me some food? I'm starving. Mum: Not until you've tidied your room. It looks like the council tip in here. What is that under your bed?). Then some interesting brown ducks came along, and were chased away by the coots, then a pair of swans came swanning up looking for all the world like the Kray twins (Nice little nest you've got there Mrs Coot. Wouldn't want anything nasty happening to it now, would we. Rough area, this... Mrs Coot: Nice? It's a bloody tip. You'd be doing me a favour. I'm surprised Waterways haven't towed it away. Rough? Maida bloody Vale? I should cocoa.)
I also observed a BW litter removal boat. I saw one yesterday, with a big sort of basket on the front that presumably collected the rubbish and precipitated it backwards into a bin, but today's employed the far more effective approach of a man with a big shrimping net.
Off again tomorrow. Uxbridge awaits, and I must finish my packing.