Wednesday.

These are photographs of a narrow boat holiday we took in May of 1988 with two friends of ours Brenda and Warren. It is by special request of Rog (who has, I fear, strange tastes).  The first three photos were taken as we crossed the Pontcysyllte (I don't know HOW that is pronounced before anyone asks) Viaduct over the river Dee, one  hundred and twenty six feet below us. Warren, who was driving, wanted a photograph of himself, so I climbed onto the roof of the narrow boat, stood up, faced the blunt end of the vessel and took the above photo.

I then turned round, faced the sharp end, and took this photo,  where Ann (on the right) and Brenda, were enjoying the view.

Then, leaning over sideways, I took the above photo of the river Dee, rushing along 126 feet below us.

Above is a photo of your blogger (I used to shave me chin then), driving the boat.  In fact, when we returned, I drove the boat back across the Viaduct (and I have the certificate to prove it).

Above is a picture of Ann driving the boat. She thoroughly enjoyed it, but like me, found it hard to get used to a  speed of three miles per hour.

One other incident I must record, is that when we tied up at Llangollen, I walked into the town, found an antique shop I knew of, and purchased a lovely little round Welsh cricket table. The turned, heavily chamfered table top (the chamfer being to the underside of the table top) was three inches thick, and of elm (which is, in my opinion, the most underrated of our native woods); the three legs were of ash. It was of late eighteenth century date, and was a most charming example of naively rustic furniture. I carried it back to the boat. Now, at this point I must stress that we had followed the advice of a friend when hiring the boat and hired a bigger one than needed; in fact for the four of us we'd hired a six berth boat, and even then there wasn't that much spare space. However I was surprised that the other three accorded my little table such a cold reception. Even Ann, who rather liked the table said that there really wasn't room for it, whilst both Brenda and Warren were very reluctant to have it on board. I put up a spirited defence of the table, pointing out that if we decided to hold a dinner party on board, of say six people or so, we would be jolly glad of a spare table to accommodate them. After a somewhat acrimonious discussion it was decided that if the table came aboard, it must stay in the  sleeping space allocated to Michael. I must admit that over the next few nights I got to know that little table very well. However, when we finally got home, I took the table along to an antique dealer we knew, who specialised in early country furniture, and who raved over it, bought it,  and the profit on it paid for our part of the hire of the narrow boat; so I didn't regret buying  it. Thinking about the matter though, I rather regret parting with the table; it was a little beauty!