This post covers the last two days, as I was busy last night. Actually, we’re going to start two evenings ago, to reveal the most sinister news about Llangollen. Take a close look at this sign.

At first glance it looks perfectly normal: this way to the dragons, steam train, canal boats, toilet, and parking. It’s the sort of thing you might find in any dragon-infested tourist trap. Look again. See that rectangle where something has been covered up? There is something in Llangollen they don’t want us to know about. Let’s take a closer look, with the contrast enhanced.

It’s a dalek! What are daleks doing in Llangollen, and why have they covered up the directions to them (apart from the obvious reason of avoiding mass panic, of course)?

Mobile Internet is really slow tonight, so I only have time for one or two more pictures. Let’s make them count. Yesterday on Facebook I posted a video of a traditional Punjabi harvest festival dance, and asked what the animals on the end of the sticks were, and where the dancers came from. Here’s a close up of the animal.

At first I though it was a lizard, and was of course hoping it was a ferret, but it turns out to be a squirrel. Apparently squirrels are rare in the Punjab (otherwise they would know what one looked like) but it is considered good luck for a farmer to see one. As to where the dancers came from…

Birmingham of course.

I have more pictures from Llangollen, but can’t upload them right now, so they can wait for a time when we have better Internet.

This morning it was pouring with rain. Peter and Sherri headed back to their car in Market Drayton on public transport. Train service was canceled due to flooding, so they ended up taking three busses and a taxi. Seriously, train service halted because of a bit of rain? In this country? It’s amazing anyone ever gets anywhere at all.

I considered waiting out the rain, but there are six difficult bits on the way back out of Llangollen where boats can only travel in one direction at a time – two aqueducts, two tunnels, and two narrows. I thought that we would not have much competition for the use of the canal when it was pissing down, and it turned out I was right.

We were making great time until a length of fencing wire wrapped itself around the propellor. We still moved, but with a clicky-scratchy sound every time the prop went around. Happily the rain had stopped by this time, so we moored, opened up the weed hatch, and tried to get it off the prop. So, I called Alex, and he called Chirk Marina, and they sent out someone equipped with better wire cutters (and apparently longer arms) than I have.

Pro-tip: If you want great service from British marine engineers, offer then a cup of tea as soon as they arrive, and the job will be done pronto so they can get to the cuppa. We were soon running again, and after a long day we are back in Ellsmere, by the Tesco that lets you take the carts down the towpath.