The plan for
Saturday was to get through Birmingham and to the east side of Solihull, a
journey of 16 miles and 14 locks which should take about ten hours. We set out about nine to get through Curdworth
and Erdington to Salford junction which is under the M6 at Spaghetti
junction. Karen walked for a while with
Buddy as the rest of the journey was going to be in urban areas. There were plenty of butterflies around and
she got a picture of a male Gatekeeper (aka Hedge Brown)…
… and a
Large White which refused to open its wings.
She also got
to see inside a bridge stanking plank store.
We have a family WhatsApp group so we keep in touch with the children
every day wherever they are. They do
tend to take the rise out of us, for example about our fascination for stanking
planks. They pointed out the other day
that Steve and Sophie must be my favourite children as they have the same
initials as Stanking Plank.
We went
through Curdworth tunnel which has the towpath inside rather than over the top.
Then up the
three locks at Minworth.
These signs seemed to be contradictory as you cannot leave a lock empty unless at least one bottom paddle is left open.
As we got
into the outskirts of Birmingham the bridges had the red water access doors in
them. When we were here earlier in the
year we found out that the doors were put in by the Fire Brigade during World
War II so they could have quick and easy access to water in the event of fire
from bombings. On the face of it it was
a good idea in Birmingham as there are over 100 miles of canal there – in those
days there were even more. All the ones
we had seen before were really distinctive as they had been cut into brick
bridges but we went under one that had been cut into a railed bridge.
Buddy, as
usual, drinks from the canal rather than his own bowl of tap water. He even does this on the boat, preferring Karen’s
watering can to his water bowl.
When we went
under this factory at Erdington we knew we were nearing Salford junction.
This is the
canal guide showing this part of Birmingham.
We came down the Birmingham & Fazeley from the right hand page and
needed to turn first left which is the northern end of the Grand Union. The next left is where the Birmingham &
Fazeley continues down to the centre of Birmingham. The one that heads off North is the Tame
Valley canal which we have yet to visit.
The motorways are in brown and Spaghetti Junction can be clearly seen.
Here are a
few shots of the junction.
There are
five locks on the Grand Union between the junction and the middle of Birmingham
– they are known as the Garrison locks and when we came down in the winter it
was dreadful. There was more litter and graffiti
than we had ever seen anywhere else.
Consequently we weren’t looking forward to cruising this stretch
again. We were in for a wonderful
surprise: there was hardly any litter on the towpath or in the water – it was a
complete transformation. A lot of hard
work had clearly been put in and hopefully littering will stop as it is now so
clean. Even the run down locks looked
pretty.
At
Bordersley junction we turned south east and went up the six Camp Hill
locks. Whilst entering the first lock
the engine cut out. I got into the weed
hatch and found many metres of cable caught round the propeller. Fortunately I only had to do this three times
on the whole journey through Birmingham.
Karen finally
started crossing the locks by stepping between the gates rather than walking
round. Even though I usually do it,
Karen has always been reticent (sensible); however, she had been spurred on
earlier in the day when we saw a short and overweight girl doing it.
We walked
into Solihull on Sunday morning to catch up on food shopping and then set off
for Kingswood. This meant going down the
five locks on the Knowle flight which are really exposed and can prove
troublesome because it is often windy.
We found them really difficult in the winter as the wind was gusting
across the valley. Anyway we got to a
really nice quiet spot before the locks and both decided at the same time that we
should just moor up for the rest of the day and relax.
On the way we
had passed a village cricket match which seemed happier than the second Ashes
test.
We had also
seen our first Marbled Whites and Essex Skippers of the year – here is one of
the Essex Skippers.
When we went
under the M42 we saw the bizarre sight of an old man playing an Alpenhorn. What made it so strange is that we were a long way from any roads or villages so he must have transported the horn along the towpath.
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