It hurts. Trust me, I have tested this out today because I wouldn't like to lie to you. But never mind my brush with broken ankledom, which was brought about incidentally by tiredness, because I really am very tired. What I want to talk to you about is how tired I am. Seriously, if you ever decide to pack up your entire life, split it into three carefully thought out sections; one for putting in a cellar, one for putting into a fully-furnished-flat-arrangement for tenants, one for putting on the narrowboat you plan to live on; be sure to leave more than Wimbledon finals weekend to do it in. Heed me not and you'll be up all hours the night before you leave and set off on your adventure having had only 3 and a half hours' sleep. Trust me, I have tested this out because I wouldn't like to lie to you.
But we are here, it is officially Day One. (Some would call yesterday Day One, but it was a weirdy, no-man's land between handing over keys to our flat and getting to the boat). We planned to go from Sowerby Bridge to Hebden Bridge this afternoon to kick off our epic voyage, but half a mile in we got turned away from a lock because the lock keeper had knocked off 15 minutes early for his tea. So we turned back and are now moored up under a lovely willow tree a massive 100 yards from where we started. Good job there's no bloody rush. Welcome, I suspect, to boating. The lock has a keeper because it is the deepest lock in England, so I will report back on just how rock hard I am for driving into it at a later date. If you're really lucky I might even write about locks in general...if you are well behaved, eat your greens and are nice to an elderly lady between now and then I might even try to make it interesting.
It is brilliant here though. The boat is mega-cute, the Pennines loom in their loomy way (until the sun comes out and then they seem to wink at you) and my mum and dad are just a few miles down the road (the first time they've been visitable without the aid of an InterCity train since 1992). Soup-perb! Ooh, soup. I'm quite hungry actually. I am going to go now anyway because I am about to get cramp in my leg from raising it up on a cushion. My ankle kills but hasn't even had the good grace to swell up, miserable bugger. Have a cuppa on me. (...Or a CuppaSoup...)
Later, after soup: A beardy man has just passed me on his boat! I spent a week on this boat in the spring and only saw 2 beardy men, Stu the Boat (of whom more later) and my very own Alan. But it is only day one and the beard count is already underway! Lets go!
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