Route Canal Treatment
Up, and to the city of Bath, where I did happen to call in upon my tooth surgeon, young Sally, who didst entreat me most strongly to allow her to repair a crumbling dentine most urgently.
As I had but a short time to kill before the manky molar was to be operated upon, I did some market research in Widcombe. I also stopped awhile by the side of this route canal, the Kennet & Avon Canal, which meets the Avon in Widcombe, in a falling series of lock-gates. I say route canal because it was once a hive of industrious cargo transport activity serving Bristol and points east.
There I ate a trusty working prime minister's lunch of Cornish pasty and Scotch egg (in a valiant attempt to defend the integrity of our union) as I watched the traffic whizz past.
While musing on manual labour and its rewards, as on a foreign country, I composed several Haiku, appearing here over the next few days.
Note the natural order of things asserting itself as the gentleman takes his position at the stern, the better the tiller to wield with a firm manly grasp, while the young women are relegated to their proper place; hard physical labour toting dat barge through the numerous locks between the Avon and Wiltshire...
As I promised earlier, I have blipped the foto of the narrow boat deck-head garden.