Boatdate: 10072019
Canal: Worcester and Birmingham
Heading: Not sure
Weather: Ridiculous, Steamy
Fuel Status: Not the foggiest
Water Status: Wet
Toilet Status: Been
Battery Status: 12v hopefully

So we picked the boat up at Hanbury Wharf and sailed her down to the Fir Tree pub, as you do. We sat on their nice patio furniture celebrating our new adventure with too many pints of Timothy Taylors.

Pushing the boat out, we ordered some pub grub as well and the no nonsense lady that brought it to us suggested we move to "that table over there,' (because), "that way your chins will be a lot closer to your food."
I don't really think she was all that worried about the possibility of rich onion gravy all over her cream patio seat cushions, not really. You never know though, and, once upon a time, the pub had been run by a murderer (allegedly); he got off on a technicality.

The more beer we drank the further we sank down into the cushions. It just happens.

The first mate made some comment about the train going over the level crossing nearby so I asked her how she knew it was level.

It went downhill from there really.