This morning we bid farewell to leafy Edgbaston, and continued through less salubrious suburbs. The graffiti was back to the I’m going to write my name in big pretty letters school…

… apart from one nice thumbs up on one of the bridges.

A hairpin left turn brought us onto the Stratford Canal, and we are now on a section of waterway that we went through in the same direction earlier in the summer. There are only so may ways to get places on the canal system. For instance, the only ways to get from the Midlands to the North is via the Trent & Mersey or the Shropshire Union, so we have done those a few times. Likewise, you are probably going to go through Braunston on a regular basis as it is where the Oxford Canal and the Grand Union are merged. We are on our way to Braunston, but we have a few locks to get through first.

The Stratford Canal starts to get more rural though still quite suburban in this stretch. We are hoping to see cows again. Our lookout was rewarded with a glimpse of what was probably a muntjac deer and a field of alpacas, but nothing in the least bovine. This close to major cities it’s more profitable to graze horses rather than cows.

It’s common for boats to have both their name and their home mooring painted on the side. One of the common mooring names you see is Lord Vernon’s Wharf. We were thinking of painting our boat with Lord Vetinari’s Wharf to see if anyone notices.

Guess the owner of this boat’s favorite author.

I’ve decided polishing brass is a thankless task. But the time I finish the last curtain rod the first one needs doing again. I’ve given up, and just polish the tiller pin once a trip. However, this boat owner disagrees.

When your kids ask the question, Where do narrowboats come from?

Finally, a narrowboat owner who does not take the threat of battle swans seriously enough.