Conquering the Caen Hill Flight

first, some hard facts about the famous Caen Hill flight of locks:

1. it’s one of the longest continuous flight of locks in the country - a total of 29 locks with a rise of 72metres in 3.2 km (237 feet over 2 miles) - on the Kennet and Avon canal - if you want to head west past Devizes towards Bath or Bristol, you can’t avoid it

2. The flight of locks opened in 1810; by 1818, seventy 60-ton barges were working on the canal, mostly carrying coal and stone

3. A back pump at Foxhangers is capable of returning 7 million gallons of water per day to the top of the flight. That’s one lockful every 11 minutes.

4. people actually hire narrow boats to ‘climb’ the locks for fun

5. the locks have opening hours; in summer, they open at 8h00 and close at 17h00 which allows the last boats through to clear the top lock by 20h00 - you’re told to allow 5 to 6 hours to go through all the locks

6. the pounds by the side of the locks (they store excess water from opening and closing the gates) are teeming with wildlife - herons, swans, ducks

Now, some fun facts:

1. last year, going down the locks on our own (it was the middle of winter and noone was travelling) I walked almost 15km doing the 3.2km of locks. This year, on a busy summer day with another boat next to us through the flight, it was the much more sensible distance of 6km

2. there are volunteers there to help where needed…one was a man on a mission opening and closing paddles, another enjoyed patrolling on the quad bike in between greasing the mechanisms

3. the man on the boat in front of us was on the vodka and coke at 10am

4. swans will happily hitch a ride with you through the locks

5. there are lots of visitors to Caen Hill, mostly enjoying the spectacle of slightly out of shape people wrestling with stiff lock gates and saying, ‘‘call that a holiday?’ (my cringing reply towards the end of the day - ‘it’s not a holiday, it’s my life’ oh, the embarrassment)

6. there is always one more lock than you think (around the bend, where you’re slowly heading)

7. it really is great fun

there can only be one recommendation for refreshments…the Black Horse Inn, canal-side at the top (almost) of the flight into Devizes. We arrived 20 minutes before afternoon closing time, were warmly welcomed and enjoyed recovery drinks in lovely surroundings. Thoroughly recommended. At the moment they close mid-afternoon to deep clean before re-opening for the evening session, serving good food and a decent range of beers and if you’re on your narrowboat, you can tie up right next to the pub and settle in for the night.

Goodbye Somerset, I shall miss you

Lockdown is (mostly) over, the pubs are open and I’m moving back onto the narrowboat – what a week this is.

My first British spring since 1990 was not spent pootling along the canals as planned; instead, my husband and I put all our energies into transforming the house from top to bottom; we grew tomatoes and potatoes and basil; on my permitted daily walk I would head off armed with my camera down the local lanes.

I shall miss those ancient footpaths that lead off in all directions from the recently-sold house in south Somerset; it’s been an absolute joy exploring them during the last few months, seeing the new shoots of spring give way to summer wildflowers buzzing with insects.

I’ve seen foxes and squirrels and peacocks (really) on my lockdown walks. I’ve learnt the names of common wildflowers that were not common to me (forget-me-not and herb robert, anyone?). I saw that lots of bees rummage around the ground rather than in flowers – and I learned some of their names, too.

I took so many photos, a visual reminder of the strange months that saw me connect with a place I’ve known for over 30 years without ever fully appreciating; I shall miss Somerset, for sure.

The next adventures are back on the narrowboat – the green and wondrous Kennet and Avon to start with; I’m already itching for the stretch by Avoncliffe where the autumn trees cast golden reflections as far as the eye could see, looking forward to seeing them in full green summer leaf…

The next post will be from on board the good ship…

Until then, please stay safe and well,

Phil xx

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my 'itinerant photographer' website is launched!

As an itinerant photographer (or simply someone working on yachts overseas with a camera ever to hand), there never seemed to be the time to stay still, take stock and, for example, build a website to showcase my work. Around this time last year, when my husband and I realised what everyone does sooner or later, namely that life’s too short to live to someone else’s demands, we bought a narrowboat, moved back to England and started travelling on our own terms.

When the towpaths muddied over and ice started creeping into the puddles, we came back to our house in south Somerset to tidy it up, pack it up, and sell up. Before part 3 of this master plan was complete, the world and England’s canals had closed down.

I’m by nature an irrepressibly optimistic person and can’t help but find good in amongst the bad. So one result of my enforced lockdown and isolation is this website, the building of which has fried my brain in the most pleasurable way. My solitary walks along the ancient footpaths and rarely-visited woodlands on my doorstep let me experience my first British spring in decades - who knew it could be so green and lush and inspiring? Many of the intimate flora photographs on the website were taken on these walks.

You’ll get to know more about me, my photography, where I’ve been and where I’m going, in other blog posts - in the meantime, thanks for your time, I hope you like the photos and the stories, and I hope you’re staying safe

Phil xx

ps

I’m female and Philippa, but most people except my husband call me Phil