What is it that you get in the air around falling water? Is it positively charged ion’s or friendly ozone or something?Whatever, the smoke on the water this morning, brings a joy and promise of the coming day.
Maybe it's not exactly work I've been doing this week, but I've been busy enough to give myself that warm Friday, end of the week feeling.
Leaving the peace and solitude of the Grove the river passes under the span of the A453, the out of town early morning traffic impatiently crawling towards the bustle of Nottingham city.
The now pedestrianised Bridge marking the start of the Victoria Embankment with its furrow browed joggers on there no pain no gain critical missions, and the head down ipod suits heading in early to get ahead of the game. I'm feeling more in tune with the hobo and his white bulldog sleeping under the first arch of the bridge.
The old toll house now a bright clean cafe serving a nicely browned dry cured thick bacon sandwich also provides fresh fruit and prepared to order sandwiches from there deli.
After Breakfast in the park, and my food for the day in hand it seems only right to leave the sleeping hobo and his watchful dog the sheckles rattling around in my pocket.
The old toll house now a bright clean cafe serving a nicely browned dry cured thick bacon sandwich also provides fresh fruit and prepared to order sandwiches from there deli.
After Breakfast in the park, and my food for the day in hand it seems only right to leave the sleeping hobo and his watchful dog the sheckles rattling around in my pocket.
On along the embankment to the left and great majestic official buildings to the right on down to Trent Bridge. Football, cricket or rowing, this is the place to be, there’s the buzz of sporting endeavour in the air round here, but the Bridge, man, what a piece of art and design.
Not for the first time I'm blown away that the finest view is from the river. But old photographs show times when we spent a lot more time on the river for pleasure.A good bridge satisfies something in my soul in the same way as a good fire.
So many bridges seem to have bought out a bit more than the very best in it's designers and builders, a touch of magic to match the finest church. I suppose if they've lasted anytime there showing a harmony with, or should that be, defiance off the constant power and energy of the river flowing beneath.
With the River Trent being the boundary that halted the Roman march North for a few decades maybe there’s something in my DNA that recognises how important a river crossing is.(oh blimey, I think I'm a roman now!)
Between the bridge and the Forest football ground the rowing club is a hive of activity with all the bright young things from Uni are learning there rowing craft in these streamlined state of the art boats. At the other end of the spectrum from my vessel, I still feel a bond with these people taking to the water for self propelled pleasure. I must just moor up and take a moment to stand in front of this historic club.Unsure if I might be ridiculed for my casual approach to the art I'm delighted to get into conversation with one of the officials of the club. He's very supportive of my expedition. Having been in the game for many years he tells me how he sees so many people get into there rowing, get competitive, go at it hammer and tongue for a few years, win or lose there personal goals, and then give it all up. He's on of a mission to bring rowing to the masses. He quotes me some statistics that give me recurring food for thought. In this country 70% of people rowing do so competitively, with only 30% doing so for leisure, where as in the rest of Europe 70% row for leisure.
I completely get were he's coming from with this. From the first, when I was rowing up and down the stretch of river between me and town, I'm looking across at the new Living Well building wanting to scream " cast off your earphones and rowing machines and do it for real on the water" Should I get some stickers made up?He also has a passion for this river that mirrors my own, wanting to do something starting up at the head of the river. I think we will meet again
Moving downstream begins the start of the now silent wharfs with there towering warehouses. I'm taken back by the scale. This isn't some quaint old museum piece with trendy bars, were once sat barge men drinking pints of slack.
It's a full blown inland port. Not so long ago a hub of our industrial heritage for imports and exports with Europe. It almost has the feeling that it's merely resting until a change in transport policy has it bursting back into life again. Wishful thinking maybe, but if it does I want a job on the barges going down to the sea.
I completely get were he's coming from with this. From the first, when I was rowing up and down the stretch of river between me and town, I'm looking across at the new Living Well building wanting to scream " cast off your earphones and rowing machines and do it for real on the water" Should I get some stickers made up?He also has a passion for this river that mirrors my own, wanting to do something starting up at the head of the river. I think we will meet again
Moving downstream begins the start of the now silent wharfs with there towering warehouses. I'm taken back by the scale. This isn't some quaint old museum piece with trendy bars, were once sat barge men drinking pints of slack.
It's a full blown inland port. Not so long ago a hub of our industrial heritage for imports and exports with Europe. It almost has the feeling that it's merely resting until a change in transport policy has it bursting back into life again. Wishful thinking maybe, but if it does I want a job on the barges going down to the sea.Was it my time at art college, or maybe I wasn't delinquent enough in my youth, but I'm drawn to what gets called graffiti, and there are some fine examples on the railway bridge ahead that I must just stop and photograph. Looking across the river there’s a riot of colour that draws me.
This is an area, set aside by Nottingham county council for this art to flourish.
This is an area, set aside by Nottingham county council for this art to flourish.
I meet up with Ozzy who is in charge of centre of free expression and adventure. The Arches house boats of all kinds, and I'm lost for words when he shows me his personal craft. Only used by Ray Mears, no less. He's also got a sail that goes with it. He once did Lock Ness in 6 hours. This is what I'm having next!
With the rush and the rain when setting off on Monday I never gave a thought to things like sun block. But the weather has turned fine now, and the backs of my hands are covered with prickly heat and beginning to become painful. I chance my hand and pull in behind a charming little river cruiser, with a Puffin sat on its tiller, with the hope of scrounging some sun cream
.
The skipper owner emerges from the cabin, she may not have any sun products, but she does have a wealth of stories of the times she has spent over the past 40 years on this river with her noble vessel and its quirky Stuart Turner engine. I spent a good hour enthralled by her tales, and the charm is doubled when she shares her pre lunch gin and tonic with me. Wonderful.
.The skipper owner emerges from the cabin, she may not have any sun products, but she does have a wealth of stories of the times she has spent over the past 40 years on this river with her noble vessel and its quirky Stuart Turner engine. I spent a good hour enthralled by her tales, and the charm is doubled when she shares her pre lunch gin and tonic with me. Wonderful.
The city gives way to parkland, and past a sailing club with it's bright sailed dinghies tacking up river. I come to a busy area that surround Holme lock.
To the left, the weir is overshadowed by a floodwater barrier, pre dating the Thames one, this one being lowered in times of flood, to prevent a build up of water that might flood the city.
And to the right a magnificent man made diversion of part of the river were international competitors turn underwater cartwheels and other amazing stunts in the turbulent waters.
A group of these resting aquatic athletes tease and try and tempt me down the rapids.
But my lazy Friday afternoon mood leads me to towards the lock and to chance my fortunes with the keeper of this lock, one which has jumped considerably in size from the previous ones, to accommodate the barges that once used to carry 300 ton cargos to and from the city. A young chap, I’m encouraged to chance my hand after his opening line is " we've had reports of someone speeding on the river, is it you"? He and the gold braided captain of an enormous river cruise boat buy into my tale and I get permission to queue up with the other half dozen boats heading down stream.
To the left, the weir is overshadowed by a floodwater barrier, pre dating the Thames one, this one being lowered in times of flood, to prevent a build up of water that might flood the city.
And to the right a magnificent man made diversion of part of the river were international competitors turn underwater cartwheels and other amazing stunts in the turbulent waters.
A group of these resting aquatic athletes tease and try and tempt me down the rapids.
But my lazy Friday afternoon mood leads me to towards the lock and to chance my fortunes with the keeper of this lock, one which has jumped considerably in size from the previous ones, to accommodate the barges that once used to carry 300 ton cargos to and from the city. A young chap, I’m encouraged to chance my hand after his opening line is " we've had reports of someone speeding on the river, is it you"? He and the gold braided captain of an enormous river cruise boat buy into my tale and I get permission to queue up with the other half dozen boats heading down stream. With open countryside ahead I stop at a pontoon on the downside of the white water rafting centre and make a brew and give the powered craft a chance to disappear in the distance.
Round the first bend I pass a Saint John's ambulance boat full of old folks on an afternoon out. I hear an old boy comment "oh look, a coracle" I really made up by this as that’s exactly what I thought when I first saw my dinghy at the Boat Show.
I call something back to one of the other passengers and see him pull, what I think are hearing aids out of his ears, he says " sorry mate, they've got Max Brgraves on in here, that's why I'm wearing ear plugs."
With a smile on my face I'm happy to head into the tranquil countryside as I finally leave Nottingham behind.
A peaceful afternoon back with nature eventually brings me to Stoke Lock. The keeper knows I'm coming and has the lock ready for me. This is in the top ten of outstanding waterway sites. Which is a pleasure to spend some time walking round. 5 quid buys a key of the lock keeper that gives me access to facilities that allow the first shave and shower since leaving home.
Clean and relaxed I'm happy to cross to the remote area on the other side of the river were another heavily wooded area towers up from the water. Bleached driftwood left by flood waters makes a beachcombers paradise were I'm happy to set up camp and spend another peaceful evening.
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