The Cruise of the Dondevoy

    


Another noon start - I think this will be the rule in future, that, come what may, I must be away by midday. A good idea.

I passed fourteen locks in all, being chased by a lockful of boats for most of the way. After holding them up quite badly at lock twenty-seven, the one with the broken balance beam, I decided to let them pass, so after the next lock I moored, meeting a girl struggling with ten gallons of water. I helped, naturally, and secured an invitation to coffee, which, after the return of someone who I presumed to be her husband, stretched on to supper and a drink at the local pub. I seem to be visiting an awful lot of pubs.

It was not her husband - the husband lived on a nearby boat with the wife of the fellow I saw. A complicated situation, more so than can be written down here. Bella and Jonathan (or was it Jeremy?) were their names, on the narrow boat Heron. I shall be in trouble if I have those names wrong. The boat has windows like the Alhambra, and is crawling with cats of all sizes and colours. Excellent company.


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Copyright ©1972 Ben Newsam. The author of this diary may be contacted at ben.newsam@gmail.com