This article has been written for you from The Kingfisher, the narrow boat I am currently living on. Although knowing the difficulties of finding wireless internet connection on the River Wey this article has most likely come to you from a quick ‘copy’ and ‘paste’ from my home in Cheam. I can gladly boast that the power which is currently running my laptop has been gathered from an auxiliary battery generated by the diesel engine which has powered my narrow boat trip from Godalming to the Thames.
Narrow boat ventures are always a pleasurable way to past the time. Ultimately narrow boaters could be blamed for wasting their time as hire boats only usually travel one way up a river or canal and then proceed to just re-track their watery steps back to the home mooring spot. The narrow boat I am currently living on has been borrowed from a family friend, although, as a family, we use it so often that it could be claimed as a second home.
Until you step foot onto a narrow boat it is very easy to believe that outer London is as built up as anti-housing movements proclaim claim it to be. Past the urban outskirts of Surrey lies a secret garden of rural magnificents which is so easily lost by those who drive so hurriedly in their metal boxes above the river/canal ways of Surrey. For the past three days I have spotted Cows, Deer and a Kestrel. I believe the Kestrel is the only bird which can achieve a completely stationary flight but I may be wrong. The lack of internet access stops me from researching further into animal facts.
There is much farm land which has only been touched by the farmer or the fellow narrow boater; who ensures with etiquette that no rubbish has been left behind on an overnight stay. To sit one evening in the middle of rural Britain, on a very still river way, next to untouched farm land and sucker the warmth of a coal fire is quite simply priceless. I am pleased to have achieved this without the need of a cigarette so far. Despite drinking almost every evening the need of a cigarette seems to have almost completely left my system. As I write this I have had a glass of ale although I do admit that a very small part of me still misses the smell of tobacco and the rise of smoke in the air. An evening on the narrow isn’t blemished without a cigarette but it does seem unusual knowing my terrible habit.
Anyway, I would love to diverge further, divulge into the less titillating facts of narrow boat exploration but my food has finished cooking and an evening waits of card games and reading. Incidentally, whilst a narrow boat holiday could be criticised the coupled benefit of reading colossal amounts and learning how to take life slowly cannot. The internet has sped up the world, the narrow boat is my cure to slow myself down.
