A rude awakening at Wheaton Aston

Not a lot of fun being woken up by 2 strimmers and a mower 2ft away from your head at 7.45am. We're not allowed to run our engines before 8.00am and, as well as a line of moored boats, there's a row of bungalows opposite. G had, 'a word' and got a mouthful of jobsworth comments in response.

I really don't see the point. They can't get to the edges or around the mooring rings (the bits that are most important) due to boats and ropes but, as far as they're concerned, the box is ticked and contractural obligations fulfilled. No practical application whatsoever - a criminal waste of time and money in these strapped times. If they'd attacked the 3ft weeds the other side of the bridge (that I'd waded through the day before) and come back at 10ish, most of the boats would have been gone and two good jobs would have been done (instead of none).

The other side of the coin is the guys digging trenches and laying new pipes to re-instate the services. Working away like trojans as Baxter, to my embarassment, decided the newly dug earth was just the job for digging and chucking back into the trench!!

Totally awake and peed off, we decided to move on to Brewood, passing some impressive chicken in the forest fungi en route

We stopped for a pint and I left him to it whilst I wandered into the village (in particular, the excellent Coopers) for provisions.

I'm glad the world didn't end as we had a particularly nice dinner and a particularly nice day - despite the rude awakening