So soon, our mini adventure is over, all is well, and we are now safely tucked up on our mooring back on the island.
But, in the spirit of storytelling, let me expand on that a little. Having spent a very pleasant few days at the chateau, Friday rolled round quite quickly and it was time to reverse our steps.
Foxy was released from jail where, according to the owner, he was a little subdued but not particularly stressed or unhappy. This chimed with my expectations; that he would simply bide his time until the next thing. But who knows what he was thinking? I like to think he knew I wouldn’t have abandoned him completely.
As soon as Foxy was reunited with Hobo, he was happy, ever so fussy and cuddly. Not a second of sulking. Just delighted to be home…
Phew.
Hobo looked extremely smart up to the gunwales with her new blacking, the top half being another story. The original quote had been stuck to and anodes would be good for another three years. Music to my ears!
So we were off again…
John at the helm and boatbird busy restoring order to the indoors. Remember, I’d left in a bit of a rush!
Grebes, swans with their cygnets and the odd heron accompanied us on our way and, with no further time contraints, we lapsed easily into Hobo time and, well, went with the flow.
We made Ely before sunset, where we found a peaceful mooring for the night and enjoyed a late supper.
Foxy became curious…
But still didn’t venture ashore.
Everything was going wonderfully well, boxes were getting ticked, but I couldn’t help expecting the Monty Python foot to descend…
By the time Boatbird emerged the following morning, the John had foraged a huge bag-for-life full of dry sticks and had a nice little fire going in the stove, which warmed the boat a treat. Neither of us like to be cold, both being tropical flowers, and it is a brilliant way to control the rubbish. All that pesky packaging up in smoke.
That was the one thing that didn’t quite come off – the heatwave I had ordered came too late for our cruise and we still had that biting north easterly, keeping us in winter wear while outdoors. At least it stayed dry and, whilst the wind was cold, it wasn’t blowing a hooley.
Almost back on home turf, as it were, we tied up at Prickwillow for a spot of lunch.
Foxy, finding his inner boatcat, did actually venture out onto the lock landing, but not before he saw us safely alongside…
That’s my boy.
On the home stretch now, a couple of wiggles, a zig and a zag, and we’re back to the little cut that we call home.
The last box to tick was retrieving the car, which we did with TJ’s help once more.
Looking forward to the next outing and hoping it’s soon. In the meantime, I’ve included a pic of our route – just in case you’re interested…
X marks the spot.
I did treat Foxy to new food bowls…
The Foxy feeding station.
I’ve been studioudly ignoring the ads for these that keep popping up on my feed, like they do, but now felt like the right time, by way of a reward. They claim to be good for cat posture and anti-vomit but who knows? They certainly look smart and he doesn’t seem to throw food all over the floor quite so easily.
Foxy didn’t bat an eyelid though – nothing gets in the way of mealtimes – but he did re-establish his territory quick quick and brought me a little present the following morning.
Boatbird
Boatbird 