The observant among you will have noticed a slight drop in the frequency of our blog postings recently.
We’ve been back on dry land since the end of September. And now we’ve hung up our tiller pin for good and passed Felucca on to the next set of worthy adventurers.
It’s terribly sad in some ways. No more magical meanderings along canals that snake back and forth across beautiful countryside. No more navigating by bridge and lock numbers. No more waking up to a different view every morning. No more visits from friends and family. No more pub lunches every day or boat cuisine!
Before we set off, I said to Tom, “if we hate the life, we can go back to our jobs after six months”. Eighteen months later, we’d been on all the major canals, to famous canal towns, to all seven of Robert Aickman’s wonders of the waterways, on tidal rivers, on the sea. We’d been boating in sun, rain, hail, more rain, thunder and more rain. We’d seen a lot of wildlife. I’d finally mastered the art of working locks and Tom could service an engine standing on his head.
And, hey, in plenty of other ways life is pretty damn good. We have a Margaret to play with now. And we have roses and tomatoes in the garden and a proper toaster (joy of joys) and our Felucca teapot is outside the front door. And next week we’re going for a day cruise on a part of the Lea and Stort that’s new to me.
Thank you, Felucca, for all the memories.