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Feeling the credit crunch? - try a holiday that couldn't possibly be greener - starting on your doorstep and in another world.
It was a bit of a family joke when they heard that my wife Karen had arranged a cruise to Stoke on Trent for my recent birthday, especially when you know we live 15 miles away in Stafford. We thought it was pretty funny too, but almost as soon as we'd begun, we realised just how fantastic this unlikely sounding adventure was going to be. We packed up the clothes and the food and drink for our 3-day jaunt, loaded them into our car at 2.15pm. By 2.30pm we were unloading it all again in Stone (7 miles from home) and onto our boat 'Angela', surrounded by the charming, idyllic and completely original historic brick boatyard of Canal Cruising Company Limited. And that's how quickly our holiday started. So not just green, but incredibly efficient of our time too, and no airport car parking charges to contend with, CCC Ltd even let you park in their secure yard for free. We had a little tour of the boat, then some really easy technical stuff which would keep me happy (the daily pre-sailing checks just made me feel like The Captain I guess). We had a quick tour of the nearby locks from the very friendly CCC staff, and then we were literally set adrift, all alone - not quite on the high seas, but on water at least and heading North into the unrecognisable territory of far-away places like Burslem, Trentham, Fenton, Stoke with more than a little adrenalin in our systems (what if we meet anyone!!?). Immediately it was utterly amazing how different the perspective of these all too familiar (and traditionally not terribly nice) places become when seen from the water. To start with the canal edge is positively writhing with wildlife and flowers (even in deepest Stoke on Trent), so there is a natural beauty to see and admire. However it is the living history that makes this journey so very special. Once one gets used to the locks (heavy, but not impossible, and very healthy too), one starts to 'tune-in' on the fact that one is using a 300 year old industrial artefact precisely the way it was intended to be used. Even the innate, simple logic of a lock is fascinating for both users and on-lookers, time and again, and to think, nothing much has changed for 300 years. Then there are the masses of contemporary industrial buildings in various states of repair all along the water's edge and beyond. Each one forces you to think about what has survived and what has not, and the changes that have taken place, bit by bit from the early 1700's to now. On one's way through Stoke, there are the exact survivals -things like potteries that still have working factories on the canal. Some even provide moorings allowing canal-users their own way in, making a point about continuity of function. Sadly no businesses actually use the canals to ship their goods any longer (not here at least), although I wonder why not, more interesting things to ponder as one drifts. Other premises have been clearly become re-used for odd uses, like a Kung Foo Gym, or others now used as hi-tech offices. Then there is what looks like Yuppie (in Stoke??) accommodation. Yet other fascinating brick complexes that look like Gormenghast lie abandoned, about to fall down - each decorated with copious amounts of razor wire - the perfect renovation project - one hopes?. These all have their historical and architectural interest, but are above all so evocative of the former entrepreneurial spirit and sheer energy of what was once a powerhouse of creativity. The atmosphere along the canal is palpable. You can see how one can get so very thoughtful on the canals - naturally - with little to do other than occasionally yank the rudder, or slow down from an excessive 4mph to Imph for the odd duck or fisherman, one is well able to contemplate all sorts of issues, and above all, the fate of the hundreds of face-less, now forgotten men, each of whom gave years of their lives, sweating away inside what are now nothing more than the huge swathes of flattened factory. As we pass the huge empty site of the once-teeming Shelton Steelworks there is nothing left but a mass of undergrowth surrounding a clean sterile surface of finely ground concrete and brick - punctuated by the odd girder sticking up like the hand of a drowning man as he sinks beneath the quicksand. As one chugs one also re-examines one's politics - was this Mrs Thatcher's doing; was she right; what did I think about it then; what part was played by global economics; will things come back now the price of metals is so high? One can certainly contemplate whatever forces made these buildings and their workforces redundant to be replaced by who knows what, tourism - here I am after all, part of the story of the canals and their evolving life-cycle. Even new developments in Stoke have an appeal - there really is nothing as satisfying as watching others work as one drifts by, mug of fresh tea in hand, slightly smug, even aloof and essentially safe in a little moving, self-contained world, cut off from all by a very long and exceptionally thin moat that keeps the baddies away (not that there were any). There is also something intensely satisfying about this way of travelling, and of this way of accessing history. You are using the monuments in a genuinely interactive fashion. The canal feels real because it is real - its history is unprocessed, and un-interpreted with no obvious sign of people like English Heritage or The National Trust and their ilk; no guides; no audio-visual shows; no explanation boards; no interruption -just you, history, water & your own thoughts. This freedom from pressure is made all the more poignant by the realisation that, unlike caravanning, where one is ostensibly 'free' to park up anywhere, one is in fact in reality required to go to a caravan site and use the facilities. On a canal boat, if you are stocked up (as we where), you are completely self-contained, and therefore genuinely free to pretty much stop for the night anywhere you fancy, and the idea takes some getting used to as it is not something we meet often in our controlled, regulated 21st century lives. On each of our three nights we were close enough to others to feel safe, yet far enough away to feel like we were the only one's for miles, and we got braver as we found our feet with our furthest point - deep into darkest Congleton, when we really were moored away from everyone (at least it seemed that way). This was a true adventure (Karen's word for it), and made more so by the fact that one is in sole charge of EVERYTHING, and all along inhabiting quite different worlds. The combination of the evocative smell of ripe fields in summer heat; the sailing thing; lots of on-board picnics (we hardly came 'on shore once'); camping out; discovering new things; the strange and mysterious perspective on new and familiar things and places, was just so Enid Blyton/Swallows and Amazons - for us it was like re-living the entirely of our childhood in a way no other holiday ever has since the age of about 11. I suspect this is about complete freedom from major worry, stress, advertising, cars, and indeed all the things that we wish we could escape from. I have to say, it's no holiday for people who are not in love. I can imagine couples even slightly less happy with each other wanting to mutiny after 5 minutes, but for those at peace with each other's company, there is nothing like this in the world. So, this holiday was 'life-changing'. It is exceptionally green, and it is relatively cheap. Our boat (Angela) cost us £490 for 2 adults for 3 nights in the highest season, but she could have been as cheap as £350 in low season and no other costs at all (if you take your own food). The time you spend is totally memorable, and the only worry I could find is that the next time it couldn't possibly be so idyllic - could it? Richard Kemp |
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