The Slowest Way to Wales

Not even a week after returning from Italy, we were headed for Wales via one of the slowest modes of transport available - the canal boat. If you are lucky and have a long stretch of straight water, you might just get these baby's up to 4 miles per hour, slower than walking speed. But, the flip side to this is that after a day or two drifting across the country with a cool drink in your hand and the sun on your face, you wonder why the heck you spend the rest of you life rushing around everywhere. This is truly the best way to see the countryside.

We were initially a bit nervous about spending 7 days in close quarters with Duncan's family (not that we were nervous about being around his family, more that we worried about the limited space on board) but we were surprised at just how spacious the narrow boat was. It was like Dr Who's Tardis. The boat had enough beds for 6 people with 2 bathrooms, a kitchen and a small deck at the front and rear. The two best places to be were either driving at the rear where all the action was taking place above the purr of the engine or the front deck where you could hear nothing more than the water slowly drifting past. The roof of the boat was also a good snoozing spot when the exertion of, well not much at all, got a little too much. And if none of that floated our boats, we could always hop off and go for a bike ride or walk up the path and never worry about holding up the progress of the journey.

The first day was spent by the men mastering the way of the tiller. After a few wall rammings, bridge knocks, bumping boats and pretty much scraping anything within touching distance of our boat, we eventually got used to the steering. The steering had a very slow delay and a little tug or push on the tiller would not show itself for a few seconds so in order to go in a straight line, it was a constant gentle left to right on the tiller the whole way. Duncan managed to take home the prize for hardest wall collision in an attempt to take a shortcut while Derek took the prize for almost wedging the boat sideways in the canal when he got his left and right mixed up. But all in all these mini catastrophes only made for good laughs later on and a journey on a boat with the Chisholms just wouldnt be the same without them.

Our first night was spent in a country pub for dinner. We returned to watch a little telly (great little on board extra) after which we retired to our first night sleeping aboard. Becs had the advantage in the shorter bed so Duncan had to sleep on the side that allowed his feet to hang over the edge. It was a pretty cosy affair but was very comfortable. Because the boats are so slow and quiet, the wake from others passing by was not so bad and we even got to sleep in a bit. After breakfast we pushed on towards the Welsh border. On the way we entered our first tunnel. It was a magnificent feeling driving our big boat through such a small one way tunnel for a few hundred metres under a hill. We had to toot our horn and use headlights to let other boats know we were coming through. But more excitement was to come at our first lock of the tour.

The lock is a mechanism invented hundreds of years back when these boats were the main form of transport around the UK. The lock basically is a boat lift and is used to get a boat up and down hills. Our particular lock was uphill so we had to close both gates and empty the water out via a release valve before we could open the bottom gate and drive in. Once in, we simply closed the gate and open the valves at the other end to fill the lock up to the same level as the top so we could then open the top gate and cruise on. Brilliant!

Chugging along through the countryside we stopped off at some little farm canal side stores for drinks and snacks. We met an old Scottish sea captain who had retired to the countryside but sorely missed life on the seas. He said the canal boating wasn't really his thing but gave us a tip - keep the land on your left and right hand sides and you'll be right. Thanks mate, we laughed but didn't tell him how many times we nearly ended up on the banks the day before.

Waiting for us at the border of Wales and England was quite an impressive sight. A bridge divided the two country's but it was no ordinary bridge. It didn't take cars or trains, it took boats and we were revving to get on it. It was certainly a weird thought to be travelling in a boat across a bridge across a valley about 50m up in the air. We took lots of photos of the occasion not knowing this was the smaller of the two bridges we would be crossing on this journey. No sooner had we crossed the bridge, we came across the longest tunnel on the trip. It was over 400m long and would take about 15 minutes to get through. It was so dark and cold in the centre of the tunnel with the entrance and exits the only tiny dots of light.

After our caving/boating expedition, we had finally arrived in Wales, the land of funny spelling. The journey from here weaved through forests and farmland and along the sides of valleys and rocky slopes. We were only just getting our heads around the first bridge we had crossed earlier in the day when we came across a monster. This bridge was twice as high as the last one and was twice as narrow with no railing so you could simply step off the side and off you would go all the way to the valley below. This bridge was an ancient steel structure and showed its age with the steel sides bulging from where many a boat had bumped and scraped along its edge. Not to good to dwell on this as you go across. To top the experience off, we were not only in a boat crossing a bridge but we were in a boat crossing a bridge crossing a river.... get your head around that one.

A night or two past here and we had reached the halfway point which happened to be the end of the canal. We had arrived at Llangollen, pronounced clan-cough-glen or something like that. It was a spectacular wee village on the side of a mountain and next to a great river. We spent 2 days here pottering around town and watching the steam trains take people for rides up and down the tracks. After a great night out and another comfy night on board we woke up, turned the boat around and headed home.

We were looking forward to our own space by the time we arrived back to the boat rental place and our cars. It was certainly a strange feeling driving faster than 4 miles per hour on the road but no sooner had we entered life back in the real world we were complaining about how everyone else rushed about. I guess that's just what happens when you get used to slowing down.