We took a short cruise this morning, less than half a mile, but we went down three locks, and stopped to fill the tank with diesel. We are now moored closer to the town center so we explored the main street. The town was having a “seaside” celebration with a sand pit, donkey rides, a small fun fair, and even a Punch and Judy show.

Punch and Judy puppet shows date back to the 17th century. They have changed over time, as the original marionettes have given way to glove puppets. Punch’s mistress, Pretty Polly, no longer appears, and neither does the devil. In this incarnation there wasn’t even a policeman. However, Punch did get to hit things with a club while crying, “That’s the way to do it!” and the crocodile still tried to steal the sausages.

The “seaside” was missing a couple of important features, though. There was a total absence of ocean, and, far more important, there was nobody selling winkles. Oh, I know there are people for whom the seaside means whelks, cockles, or even Brighton rock, but I always went for the bag of shells dripping vinegar, and the fun of picking the tasty morsels out with a pin. I remember the first time I tasted escargot thinking, not bad, but needs some malt vinegar.

We are moored next to a meadow which has variously hosted a military encampment in the Wars of the Roses, the horses that pulled the local fire engine, the rubbish from Joule’s brewery, and a jousting tournament.

It’s now managed as a water meadow. The River Trent is allowed to flood it at times of heavy rain to prevent more valuable land getting flooded.

There is not much to the Trent this far inland, but it does create some nice spots to sit and watch the water.

There are some lovely patches of wildflowers, too.