The bright lights and attractions of Gnosall can only hold a chap in thrall for so long, so so long, Gnosall, and thanks for the memories.
Speaking of memories, there was Sunday morning for one. The Cardinal was moored up just back from the Gnosall water-point (quite legitimately and politely, but also cunningly within long hosepipe distance). Two boats were moored on the water-point, had been for some time and looked as though they intended to stay until Spring – mooring on a water-point (and thus denying others use of it) is a hanging offence on the canals, although not enough folk are hanged for it to my mind, too many get away.
Well, the morning being dull, grey and apparently free from madding crowds, I thought that I would take the opportunity to top off the tank, the better to make a swift exit when the mood came upon me. No sooner had I stepped off the boat, hose-pipe reel in hand, than all merry hell broke loose.