After the disasters that had occurred with the flood in the bilge and the engine refusing to start a bit of rest and recreation. OK red wine and the occasional G & T :-)
One of the nights I spent right in the middle of Lincoln. Its a fairly quiet sort of mooring but there is a problem. The city takes its position seriously and by 0700 the street cleaners are out and about so if you want a lie-in don't stop here.
During my stay at Lincoln I spotted Naughty Cal on a mission of mercy. Well she was sizing up the height of bridges for others that wanted to go through the Gloryhole.
Abz visited for the weekend. What a wonderful companion she is.
Those nice people at Siemens have re covered their carpark and it makes the most wonderful roller skate rink
Eventually I decided to leave and move on. My friends at Horncastle had asked that I visit so I moved on to Bardney. The usual mooring feels almost like home now.
Just a few minutes and its Stamp End Lock with the guillotine that annoys all with its slowness.
There is not a lot to look at and so anything out of the ordinary strikes quickly. Just out of Lincoln and I find an encampment on the canalside. There has been a number of problems with netting and illegal fishing but I am not sure if that is down to these.
Four kilometres out of Lincoln is the first of the moorings. Its only a 24 hour job but very quiet and close to the city.
On the way to Bardney there are a number of bits to look at and one of those is the cows made from scrap. A brilliant sculpture. At least I think so.
After eleven kilometres one comes to another mooring. This time it is Fiskerton fen. Another 24 hour job and even quieter than Washingborough.
The home straight. Only two kilometres to the lock at Bardney but a long straight.
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