Bristol Fashion has reached Hemel Hempstead, within commuting distance of my workplace in West London. So I can start living on the boat at last.
My Dad has joined me for three weekends in a row. It’s been good to have the extra pair of hands, especially at locks, and he’s enjoyed doing the driving. He’s getting good at it too – although his habit of whipping out a camcorder to film herons while navigating tight bends near moored boats can be alarming. Here he is in a lock:
It’s now evening, Dad’s gone home and I’m unpacking all my belongings. And it’s a good thing I don’t have many belongings. Where would I put them? There are small cupboards under seats, built into the bed, under the steps and I keep finding new hatches and panels in unexpected places. But soon alll these spaces are full. Maybe it’s time I actually watched those videos and read those books and then gave them away to make more room.
There’s still no running water on the boat. The water pump fuses have probably blown but I can’t locate them. No shower, no cooking, no washing. Not good. I need to call in an electrician next week to sort out this and half a dozen other problems. In the meantime I’ve stockpiled bottled water and I’ll be going swimming every day at the pool near my office and taking showers there. Can’t cook without water so I’ll just have to go to the pub every night… I could get used to this.