After the grumps come the good guys

As per previous post; these are part of our defences against the rowers attacking our paintwork

This lovely lady cycled round to re-united us with our Buckby can which had been fished out of the opposite side of the river  some way downstream - we didn't even know it had been blown overboard! 3 other people touched base with us to make sure it had been returned.

We left Cambridge for Clayhithe and then moved on towards the 5 Mile Inn at Upware with a cunning plan to try and get water by Reach Lode Lock. There is a water point just the other side of the lock (we're too long to get through the lock), so I set the lock and the idea was that we'd put MR in and then run a hose pipe down to the water point. By the time we arrived the wind was so strong that G didn't want to risk it. It turns out that it was just as well as this lock resets itself and the gate would have lowered on us after 20 min. I am told that it stops lowering if it touches something (like us), but at that point it shuts everything down and EA have to come out and re-set everything - they, evidently, get pretty hacked off about it. It's a shame the water point isn't on the main river as there is nothing between Cambridge and Ely.

We moored at the 5 Mile, thinking we'd have to go on to Ely in the morning as our water tank was nearly empty. However, the pub let us have two tanks of water and electric hookup for a minimal donation and we were able to fully charge our batteries and push through the backlog of 6 loads of washing and drying. We also ate in the pub and had an excellent meal; partridge for me and pheasant for Graham. I had a 'doggy bag' of the carcasses which, although the odd scrap went in the boys' dinners, made an excellent stock and a beautiful game reduction to go with my deconstructed liver two ways (included Lesley's excellent liver pate). That Masterchef has an awful lot to answer for. 

So, you see, it's not all grumps.

The pub was beautifully decorated for Christmas; this tableau was floor to ceiling and 6 foot across

Walking across Wicken Fen at the close of the day, the light was lovely and just 'brushing' the reeds and tress with the fading sunlight