OT and yo-ho-ho: canal boats

If you find yourself going up the coventry canal I'd thouroughly
recommend a pint or so of the Two Lllocks at the cape of good hope.

We occasionally go here for a lunchtime pint, as it's walking distance
from the Warwick office. Proper pub, with well kept beer.

 

The B&M is a tad empty at the moment. There was a huge breach at Gilwern
last month.

 

Seconded. The surrounding area is a bit of a building site and you do
get a few IBM suits in there at lunchtime, but the beer is seriously
good local produce.

 

You got off light. A mate's wife died a couple of years back doing just
that.

 

It's still good, but it's no longer traditional pub food, it's full on
gastro-pub.

 

Yes but not quite in the same context.

 

Are you going to lend her your kit for the week?

 

He'll never be seen again


--
Beav

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people said stuff

It's OK I've got my own.

PFCT;

 

Run ashore - the Royal Navy term meaning piss-up. The definition of a good
run-ashore is a 4B run-ashore, Beer, Big-Eats, Bag-Off and Back on-board.

 

Ex-Pat Andy says...

Not forgetting the odd banyan with a few native gronks in tow.

--
Lozzo
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Plenty of native gronks in darkest Warwickshire, but not too many decent
banyan spots - perhaps they could compromise by having a steel-beach
barbecue followed by the ubiquitous SODS Opera

 

Don't do what my dad did, & borrow your boss's narrow boat, then invite
all your bike club[1] mates back to the boat after meeting up with them
in the pub. It doesn't take /that/ many fat hairy Vincent owners
standing on the rear deck before the exhaust drops below water level,
flooding the engine bay & sinking the boat.

[1] The Chiltern Cretins.

--
Krusty
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Ex-Pat Andy says...

My daughter lives in deepest Warwickshire, but she's not native or a
gronk - you're forgiven

--
Lozzo
Triumph Daytona 955i SE
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*Quality*

 

that's 5 bs.

 

But you'll notice that only 4 are in upper case - anyway, after a decent
run-ashore who cares

 

The same applies to boating on the Caledonian Canal (it's not
narrow-boats though).

With the added attraction that the butcher in Fort Augustus makes
wonderful burgers which (when you eat too many with too much local
beer) have an unfortunate effect on the stomach..

Luckily there is loo-pumping-out station at the Fort William end as we
had the boat for two weeks.

Phil.

 

My Dad won a medal during WW2 doing that.

He tells it that he came back on board in NY pissed out of his brains
after a hard night bringing civilisation to the natives and cracked his
knee cap on a bulkhead and then went to bed and slept it off and didn't
know it hurt until the morning.

According to the Captain, who my father always referred to as a prat of
the old order, he was technically coming on board as a result of being
recalled for war duties and was therefore technically injured in action
and bore his wounds bravely and continued heroically with his normal
duties until they were out of action once more and all safe and thus
qualified for a medal of some sort which made the ship/captain look good
in the paperwork.

 

The Older Gentleman wrote:

[snip]

I think the other posts have everything pretty much covered, but I'll
relay a tale of a stag-do a few years back.

Two narrow boats, 21 blokes to be attired as pirates at all times. We
started somewhere near Rugby and went to Coventry and back.

The first pub was a charming little place that we decided would be
appropriate as our last stop on the return journey. Of more later.

The first overnight stop was near a pub, accessed via a footbridge over
the motorway, in a village that might have had life prior to the
motorway being built. They weren't doing food that evening but allowed
us to go and get a takeaway and bring it back to the pub and he said he
would do a breakfast for us all in the morning.

I awoke at 8am and both the boats were empty. I dragged myself up and
got across to the pub where some people were well onto their second
pints although bloody marys were popular too. We left at about 11am,
and I think I'd had 3 pints of Guinness and 3 large BMs by then. The
day continued in the same vein.

Two days of boat-based malarky were had with plenty of pub stops. As
planned we stopped at the first pub we had stopped at on the way up,
had a great meal and obviously more beer. Being a rugby lot, this is
where they held the kangaroo court, where various trumped up charges
were laid, guilt was pretty much guaranteed and the person in question
fined - by downing a strange mixture of spirits & liquers mainly.

After the meal & the court, the rugby songs started and being a Sunday,
the pub was shutting early. Or so we thought. The 'finale' had us all
singing, trousers round our ankles, and those who had gone commando
were being a bit er, exposed, and we filed out of the pub at around
10.45pm to a round of applause from the other clientele.

The landlord came rushing out after us:
"Lads, lads" he said, "we're not shutting yet. You've been entertaining
us all night and we're not letting you go just yet. Come back in - the
next drinks are on me".

Rude not to, really.

In all, a top, TOP weekend. Thoroughly recommended and if you chuck in
a few Morris Dances you'll be welcomed I'm sure.