Saturday 12 May
Shireoaks is an old mining town. I love the old part of the town, where a row of cottages show off beautifully crafted tall chimneys. Behind these are outbuildings, which are made up of old wash houses juxtaposed with stables for the pit ponies. Although miners did a physically hard and dangerous job there is a certain romance in these buildings.
After a (very) brief discussion this morning, it was decided that we would walk the last threeandahalfmiles from our mooring at Shireoaks to the end of the navigable of the Chesterfield Canal, instead of cruising as this would save Leigh around forty-four locks – there and back.
Although I say ‘we’ had a brief discussion, I wasn’t included – hence I was not terribly impressed. My humans forget I am eleven years old (which is around sixty-five in dogs years – you don’t just multiply human years by seven you know!).
I must confess, the walk was worth doing; not only was there a pretty little ice-cream and coffee shop to rest my weary paws (Turners) but, as we had been informed, this Canal could well be voted, ‘The jewel in the crown’; lots of lush green flora, views over rapeseed fields, carpets of wild garlic (I loved seeing this) and single locks (with a few staircase-locks thrown in for variety) I would liken the Chesterfield Canal to a model village.
Due to my dawdlingwalkingstyle my humans decided to take the train back to the boat. We had spotted our current neighbours sitting outside a pub near the railway station so took an hours break to join them. The humans chatted and satiated themselves, while I acquainted myself with Sue and Mick’s fox-red-Labrador, Todd. He is a bit of a dish but, at one year old, too young and frisky for me.
Woofs, Martha xx
PS Because, on our walk we didn’t quite reach the end of the canal Leigh ran it in the evening and took this pic to prove it. There and back was 10.9k – she’ll suffer…wait and see!