Many Hands.

The day started nice and bright and sun on the panels, always a good start of the day.We were soon off and on our way and after a communication form Dianne and Ray we were looking to meet up with them at the Farmer's Bridge flight.

The moorings just before Aston Junction on the Ashted Line always seems inviting, in it's little garden. Maybe one day we wills top there.

It is always surprising that Birmingham is on a hill, and no matter what direction you approach from you have to go up locks. It is always good to see the BT tower though, as you know you are approaching the centre.

I always like this factory as it reminds me of a Bavarian castle, or Hogwarts. I assume that the round bit on the side is the stairwell, but it does look very big for that.

Some more graffiti at the bottom lock but is quite swish really, and probably official.

Still before the bottom lock, and definitely official.

Just as we were pushing into the bottom lock who should appear but two people with windlasses grasped in hand. They soon had the the gates opened, and that was the last I saw of Helen until I got to the top. Mind you I could hear them both!

Out into the sun, and almost there at the top and by Cambrian Wharf.

Our big thanks to Ray and Diane who got us up the flight in just an hour. So fast I hardly had time to take any photos at all. They make a nice couple don't they.

We had collected plenty of rubbish at Minworth top lock and up the Garrison flight so we stopped at the rubbish disposal to discharge it to the bins. A boat just arrived to take our spot going down the locks, so very lucky for them.

We moored up just astern of Ferndale by the Indoor Arena and after tea and cake Helen and I went shopping into town. Disappointingly the market was closed on Monday so we didn't tick off everything on our list.

We has arranged to meet up with the Ferndale mob later and we wandered over to the Wellington to show them the 10 or 16 beer menu on a TV screen, and to see if they had the Aston Marina gangs tipple of Titanic. Lo and behold they did, but we had to go to the roof bar to enjoy the Plum Porter. It was then but a short journey to the Barajee for an Indian sitting over looking the Worcester Bar, right over the canal. Much chat and life stories, rants and moans, and what ever the opposite of those is and it was time to wander back to the boat. I lovely night, and always nice to have a chat and to find that our paths may cross later n the year as we are both heading north.

Thanks again to you both for you help up the locks, and company at the pub.