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Terry, John and I have been taking an annual 'three men in a boat' trip on John's boat Wolf since 2007.
This year's trip started as usual at Henhull, near Nantwich and the plan was to head down to the Anderton Lift and then follow the River Weaver down to the end of its navigation at the Manchester Ship canal.
Wretched camera acting up so a random set of incomplete pics follow all stamped with date and time information. Our first day got us down to just above Middlewich big lock and The Big Lock Pub.
Moored on the visitors moorings below Acton Bridge and headed out to the Leigh Arms and a pint of Robinson's bitter.
We had been debating all the way down as to where we would moor up for the night. The lock keeper at Dutton Lock told us tales of Samuel Smith's ales at decade old prices to be gained from a mile walk along the road to Frodsham. We decided that, on balance, our safest bet would be to return to Acton Bridge and a pint of Robinson's at the Leigh Arms.
It would be wrong of me to pass on to day four without recording the end of day three which, of course, was spent in the Leigh Arms. Now John has been waging a campaign about publicans who fill the top part of his pint mug with foam and not beer for quite some time. For me this is not so much of an issue as I have come to accept that I have been drinking 'pints' of beer in measures of half litres for most of my life. Anyway, John insists that his pint is a PINT so he was sure to have the bar tender fill up his glass before he walked from the bar to our table. On his way to the table, he managed to spill every bit of the beer with which they had so carefully filled his glass. Whereupon, the rather 'efficient' [and err bumptious] manager appeared with mop and bucket and ostentatiously mopped the floor. To compound the injury, he also erected a 'warning of wet floor notice'.
The plan for the day was that Pat and Tom would join us, share the bottle of champagne they always bring, and then move off in time for our booked lift passage at 1700.
We had hoped to make it as far as Bar Bridge to-day but as we had to wait at Wardle locks we had to settle for Chuch Minshull and the Badger Inn. Not too big of a hardship.
A wet day with the crew lurking in the very bowels of Wolf while our captain pressed on resolutely through the torrents.