Lynne had an idea to get through the gongoozler's paradise of Hawksbury Junction very early to avoid very difficult manoeuvres in front of a crowd and to find a water point without a queue. Both idea's worked perfectly. I did a bow thruster salute as we passed Edward's boat (our knight in shining armour from yesterday), who repaid the compliment later when he passed us in Nuneaton. Lynne changed the dressing on my leg wound which, whilst not pretty, looks to be healing ok. It is still very sore. My black finger now looks a reddish-grey but is no longer sore. No one to blame but myself so I am not seeking, nor expect any sympathy.
It is a beautiful summers day and evening so we aim to move on before mooring for the night beyond Nuneaton where we consider it a safer environment, rightly or wrongly. But be warned, Nuneaton and it's allotments go on for ever and ever and ever alongside the canal.
The Oxford is a windingly beautiful canal but very short of mooring places and really terrible towpaths, whilst the Coventry is more suburban with ample mooring and good towpaths, but avoid the military training grounds, well signposted.
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