Boogie Nights

A sweary hyperactive maritime professional, really very keen on laughing a lot, doing their best to avoid all the trappings of societies' expectations by acting on impulse to any adventurous idea that wafts by. Let's go!

bienvenu, hola, ciao!

24 July 2007

journey across Londinium

journey across Londinium
entry Jul 24 2007, 05:35 PM
It was nearly two weeks ago we finally made our decision to scrap the idea of going down onto the river Wey, with all the threats of flooding we've had recently on the rivers we thought we would head over in the direction of the River Lee.

Friday night, we moored up at Tesco opposite the entrance to the paddington arm. Loaded up with a chuck and some vegetables for a sunday roast and early-ish on saturday we set off into waters previously un-chartered by the Honey Ryder crew.

Taking hour and half shifts on the tiller we navigated our way through the gradually degenerating scenery, which changed from a little bit urban and countryside to a complete city-scape. City life really isn't good for anyones health so there wasn't much chance of us mooring up too close to the centre for the night. Passing through little venice, camden and other famous areas I couldn't help but feel like we were more akin to pond life following a smelly drainage route to somewhere fresher.

The highlight, if you can call it that was passing through the tunnels in London, in the second one I realised I couldn't see or hear the dog so I scrabbled around on the back deck feeling for something furry, finally found him and picked him up so I at least knew he was safe from being accidentally kicked overboard, he gradually got more and more afraid as the tunnel progressed, we emerged the other side with me holding a dribbly shaking dog and a dog-snot mark on my t-shirt where he tried to bury his head for the duration of the tunnel. On the plus side it's reassuring to know he feels safer with me.
"I imagine he was grateful for my overly padded bra that day giving him just enough cleavage to bury his face in"

the low lights were emerging from camdens 3rd lock having enjoyed the drunken company to be rammed by an oncoming po-faced old miser insistent on getting into the lock before we've actually left it. His dog-bum faced other half was equally as unpleasant in the lock operating as they awaited our decent.
We also got stoned, not on the joyful substances found in camden but rather by a couple of fat kids with nothing better to do than run after a narrowboat and lob chunks of builders hardcore at Mr B. on the roof. Thankfully they missed, they hit the boat and a couple ricocheted around the dogs feet, it really shook us up as we didn't expect that to happen. We have now got a large catapult and a bucket of pebbles laying in wait for the next waste of space kids with nothing better to do. I'd happily pop a stoney cap in the ass of anyone who attacks us again.

We moored up on the saturday night by Victoria park, its just a quick trot away from Brick Lane, so we swung past there for some top scran, indian stylie before finishing off our tripette to the River Lee on Sunday.

Sunday came and we were in for some weed hatch foraging as we pushed, shoved and minced our way through the weed soup on the River Lee.
As we stopped off at a boatyard for diesel I observed that we were indeed surrounded on every side by boats occupied by lesbians.
"it felt a bit like an alternative dimension I dreamed about of all female domination, I expected at any moment my other half would emerge at the back deck dressed in a saucy little feminine number."
Sadly the alternative dimension was restricted to just those few square meters of river. As we tootled off up the river, the national average was resumed and my day dreams were once again just idle thoughts to pass the time at the tiller.

We found a decent spot to moor for a while around Tottenham area.

It's the closest weve ever moored to where I work, yet its the hardest place to get to and from due to the london north south Thames divide. I can cycle it in 1hr 45 minutes or I can motorbike it in 1hr 30 minutes. The train would take an hour but I would need my folding bike to make that feasible. Those thieving little scrote bags who took my folding bike 2 weeks ago continue to make my life difficult. Or maybe they are just trying to persuade me to get on a proper bike to ride to work and back helping me get ride of some flab?

positive? negative?.... where there's one there's always the other.

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