Ken Chin-Purcell

E26 Encore

2026-10-05T00:00:00Z

Surprise! It's not the end of the trip!

The weather in Manchester that morning was sunny, but at Heathrow it was thick fog. The rate of planes that could land was cut in half, and the long haul flights coming in from all over the globe had precedence. British Airways loaded us onto the plane in Manchester in hopes that would improve our landing slot, but no joy. We sat there for three hours. By the time we landed at Heathrow the sun was out and our plane to San Diego was first in line to take off.

Inside the terminal was chaos, lines a hundred people long with two agents at the front slowly rebooking. We got in a line that had snaked to a spot where an airport staffer was annoyed, because it blocked another queue she was managing. People were confused, cutting across our line to get to the other line, people were making up conflicting queues (you go here, they go there, no they go here, you go there...). Chaos.

A phone message came in. It was Sunday. We had been rebooked by the British Airways robot for the Wednesday San Diego flight, same seats.

Now normally a three-day delay would be a crisis, we would be fretting about work, obligations and the like. I would be on the phone working to get us a flight sooner. But now... hey... we don't have much better to do, and we're in London. Sure, Wednesday.

It was possible to get our bags, but a hassle. It would be easiest to just leave them to be put on our Wednesday flight. Now that we were Mr. & Mrs. flexible we said sure, no worries.

So with our just our daypacks we found a cafe, relaxed and retooled. I found a hotel in Kensington. We stopped by Boots and got toothbrushes. Next stop Uniqlo for some underwear, a shirt and some socks.

We ate at Indian restaurants, because the South Asian food in London is so much better than San Diego.

Dishoom in particular was good.

We revisited Kew gardens. The last time we were there Chihuly sculptures were on display, this time it was Moore.

Michele being a Big Leaf

Ken being a Bonsai

Shishi is everywhere

We went to the main V&A museum. Here I am on the 4th floor with the ceramics study hall to myself.

We walked Portobello Road and bought a cookbook at Books for Cooks. It was a fun couple of days! It also gave us a chance to transition from canal life back to city life.

Our Wednesday flight to San Diego was on time and uneventful, which was good. We were both ready to come back home.

E26 Manchester

2026-10-03T00:00:00Z

In the morning we packed up our duffel bags and tidied up the boat. We left our hard sided luggage at the marina office, since there wasn't a good spot for them aboard, so we would need to repack. We motored over to the marina nice and early, 8:30am, half an hour before we were supposed to be there. There were already two boats in line!

It all went pretty fast though, in about ten minutes Kevin was free to meet us on the bank that we had set him off at a week before. I managed to glide in to where he was standing pretty smoothly, a slight redemption for the bumper boats at Trevor Basin. Kevin took the helm and slotted Celeste back into the raft.

Then it was a whirlwind. Our taxi was there early and the driver was eager to get going. We still had to repack into our luggage, but we just tossed the whole thing into the taxi and took off for the station. Fortunately the weather was good and we had plenty of time to get things back into the luggage at the train station. Chirk station is right next to the hot chocolate factory.

We had only used a quarter tank of fuel for the whole week. Displacement hulls are pretty efficient.

Renting the narrowboat was a great adventure. At it's core it's a mellow vacation done at walking pace, but there's enough novelty and navigation to keep you engaged and on your toes. We're tempted to do it again sometime, especially now that we know what to expect.

As another narrowboat traveler said back in Llangollen, “It is addictive".

We caught the train again back to Chester and then Manchester, except this time on a Saturday morning the train was packed. I wound up standing for the Chirk to Chester leg, people just kept piling into our small 4 car countryside train.

Manchester was bustling with people. Pubs were full, shops were busy, it was an active market day. Our plane back home to San Diego left Manchester the next morning, connecting through London Heathrow, so we had time to kill. Manchester didn't have a lot of tourist attractions that jumped out at us as good for an afternoon, but it does have a very nice library, the John Rylands Library. Here's John:

The library was actually founded by his wife Enriqueta Augustina Rylands. John Rylands made his fortune in textiles, and I'm guessing had a major part in establishing Manchester's "Dark Satanic Mills" reputation. But John did a lot of philanthropy, and his wife continued that by building a beautiful gothic revival library in the middle of those grimy mills. Today Manchester is cleaned up and the neighborhood is universities, parks and shopping.

The library has stacks of very old leather bound books behind glass, and it's almost all tourists like us wandering around.

And that's the end of our trip! We spent the night again at the surprisingly nice Radisson Blu Manchester Airport hotel, woke up at 5am and caught our flight back home.

E26 Return to Chirk

2026-10-02T00:00:00Z

We ate breakfast in Llangollen at a fun cafe we had found, which that morning had three dogs that desperately wanted to check each other out while their owners sipped their tea. Then it was back on the boat and a fairly easy cruise back to Chirk. Our goal was to position the boat near the marina by evening so we could make a quick drop off the next morning.

Now once again I had the current behind me, so the engine was at an easy glide and I had the towpath on the right, which meant I wasn't in the brush when passing another boat. This was the easy direction. The canal looked scenic traveling eastward too.

After six days of navigating the narrowboat I was feeling pretty good about my steering. This morning I was threading the needle like a pro, no bumps or scrapes going under bridges or through the narrows. Yes-sir-ee, the boat was going right down the middle, no more wandering around. I was hot shit, an experienced narrowboat skipper. It was a lovely day with a refreshing breeze from the north and non-threatening clouds.

The only tricky bit we had was trying not to run over several very novice canoeists coming the other way. There were a couple of us boats in a traffic jam trying to keep stopped and not drift into them as they bobbed and weaved around.

As we motored along I cooked up a plan for when we got to Trevor Basin, with the sharp right turn to go over the aqueduct. When we came the other way two days ago it wasn't quite perfect, there were some bumps. I could do better. In my mind I was going to emerge from under the bridge, elegantly bring to the boat to a full stop, swing the tiller over and do a beautiful 90 degree swivel to the right, assess if I had right of way on the aqueduct, and then proceed.

So we got to that last bridge, squeezed under, and I was in Trevor Basin. To my immediate left was a raft of boats in the marina. Ahead was a concrete wall and a herd of tourists waiting to walk the bridge. To my right, the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct. I threw the boat into reverse, stopped...

And then the stiff breeze from the aqueduct side promptly started pushing me sideways into the raft of boats. I swung the tiller over to no effect, I just kept going sideways. Tourists started to take interest. I had to wave off the boat behind us, they patiently stopped under the bridge and watched me flail around. Desperate, I purposely ran the nose of the boat into the concrete wall ahead of me, with a loud clunk. More heads turned. There's a bumper at the bow just for this situation, but it was still pretty clumsy. Now at least I had leverage and could turn the nose into the wind. After some more back-and-forths I finally got the boat pointed at the aqueduct.

My hot shit skipper phase was over.

It was super busy with pedestrians that morning on the aqueduct. Fortunately there were two volunteers at either end, with yellow vests on, directing foot and boat traffic. We got the go-ahead and proceeded across. I was still calming down from Trevor Basin, but then I was captured by the thrill of the aqueduct.

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There was a crowd of Scandinavians on the other side, many with phones out videoing our progress. I briefly struck a pose.

Next was Froncysyllte again, with its adorable draw bridge.

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We moored in the correct spot this time for Froncysyllte (downstream of the bridge) and had lunch again at the Aqueduct Inn. For all the crowds down at the aqueduct the Inn was fairly quiet. The owner this time talked about Americans buying up English football teams, like Tom Brady's part ownership of Birmingham City. It must be a very mixed bag for these fans of tier 2 teams. They are proud of their team and probably aren't excited about outside ownership, but the teams need the money to compete.

That afternoon we chose a quiet spot on the canal bank for the night, just upstream of the marina. An hour later Balto tied up next to us. We chatted a bit; he's a navy guy from Portsmouth. I said I'm not navy but I'm from a navy town too. We both had a good week.

E26 Llangollen

2026-10-01T00:00:00Z

We decided to spend a day off the water and stay on land. Our first adventure was the historic Llangollen Railway. The train running this fall Friday was a 1950's era motor coach. On summer weekends they bring out the steam engine.

It seemed like a mostly volunteer operation, retirees in railway uniforms. The station and equipment looked great, well maintained.

We motored our way up to Corwen, accompanied by an extremely mannered and slightly odd conductor, who would tell us fairly unremarkable things in a way that begged for a remarkable response. It was a little tiring. The scenery however was top notch as the railway followed River Dee up the valley.

Corwen is trying, but honestly it was also not that remarkable. Pretty, pleasant, worth a quick stroll.

Then it was back on the train. There were two cars and we switched to the other one, but our strange conductor followed us. So we got told more unremarkable things on the way back.

From many points in Llangollen you can see a ruin on a hill. After lunch we hiked up there.

Castell Dinas Brân was built by Gruffydd Maelor II in the thirteenth century. (aside: "Gruffydd" is more or less pronounced "Griffith". See, Welsh isn't that hard) It's an obvious spot for a castle, so there have been various fortifications on the hill, wood forts and so on, since 600 BC. Anyway, Gruffydd built an impressive stone castle in 1265, only for his sons to light the thing on fire 15 years later so it couldn't fall into English hands. Such was life in medieval Wales. It's been a ruin ever since. In Victorian times it was a popular tourist destination, with a small refreshment stand. Now it is a grassy scenic knoll.

That evening we went to dinner at the Corn Mill, a really tasty and friendly restaurant on the river. As we were enjoying our after meal peppermint tea...

Up walks Peter and Margaret, who were seated next to us. We had a friendly chat. They did a good job selling me on the narrowboat life, at least as an alternative to something like a motorhome.

E26 Pontcysyllte Aqueduct

2026-09-30T00:00:00Z

I shouldn't have worried about our spot, everything was perfectly chill overnight. The canal police did not come by and kick us out. I'm pretty sure there are no canal police. I think a lot of canal life depends on goodwill, cooperation and a little flexibility.

We walked our boat forward 50 yards and filled our water tank. Then we joined a flotilla of three boats and it was off over River Dee on the Pontcysyllte aqueduct!

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Kevin (back at Chirk base) advised me to stand on the towpath side of the cockpit, although I'm pretty sure I would have scooted over to that side on my own. The deck level of the boat is just above that iron edge, so your boat is floating 120 ft in the air with no railing, and really not much of a lip holding you in. The views were spectacular.

At the end of the aqueduct is Trevor Basin, which is a small marina and a place to turn your boat a very quick 90 degrees, because the canal heads directly off to the left, under a tight bridge and then hugging the hillside. It is a busy spot, with rafts of boats in the marina, tourists, boats waiting to cross the other way, and travelers like us trying to make the turn. I thought I had Celeste turned but there were a couple of loud bumps getting under the bridge. No photos of Trevor Basin, we were both too frantic. It's like the old game Operation, you try to be careful and then "bzzzzt!"

After Trevor Basin were several miles of some of the most beautiful scenery I’ve been along, as we made our way towards Llangollen. From Pontcysyllte aqueduct to Llangollen is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and I agree.

The canal is up on the hillside, and when they first restored the Llangollen canal in the 1970's sections kept giving way. In the 1980's the Canal and River Trust reconstructed many parts with concrete. The slope is steep enough that you pass rooftops of houses on the downhill side.

Some sections were neat enough to feel like a city park.

Michele on the lookout

Near Llangollen is a half kilometer section of the canal that was hewn from the rock, and is understandably only wide enough for one boat. There is thankfully signage advising you to stop and send someone ahead to make sure the way is clear. Pearson’s guide says to send your most diplomatic crew member. So myself and another boat tied off and Michele and another fellow went ahead. I soon got the text message to forge ahead, and the gal on the other boat did the same. Meanwhile Michele and Peter got to know each other a little bit. Peter and his wife Margaret are from Ellesmere and have taken their narrowboat all over the UK, including a month-long post-retirement voyage to London.

Margaret and I navigate the last stretch

We moored in the basin outside Llangollen, which is the end of the navigable canal. Here we met a couple from Lubbock Texas who were piloting "Champagne Charlie". They were wondering if we wanted to caravan with them the next day on the return. It was tempting to have "Don't Mess with Texas" in the lead going back through the narrows, but our plan was to stay an extra day in Llangollen. (I joke, they seemed like really nice people.)

We walked upstream to the source of the canal, Horseshoe Falls. This is another Thomas Telford marvel.

I mean, panache, right?

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Afterwards we walked down into town and across River Dee, where we found some meat and veggie pies for dinner.

E26 Chirk Castle

2026-09-29T00:00:00Z

We continued upstream across the aqueduct and into Chirk Tunnel. Just past the exit of the tunnel here we tied up and went for a walk to Chirk Castle.

The handsome Chirk Aqueduct that we just crossed could have actually been built more easily across River Ceiriog about a mile downstream, but that would have "spoiled" the view from Chirk Castle, so the elites prevailed.

Incidentally, if you're wondering how to pronounce "Llangollen", "Ceiriog"and "Pontcysyllte" a good resource I found is this guide for hikers.

A ways up the road from the canal you come to the castle grounds and this elaborate gate. This spot is still more than a mile from the castle, but the folly announces its presence.

The grounds leading up the hill had enormous old oak trees.

Here at the Welsh border the geography changes from the rolling farmland of England to the mountains of Wales, and more than 600 years ago Roger Mortimer de Chirk built a fortress, part of Edward I's scheme to protect the Ceiriog Valley. The Mortimers sold to the Myddeltons 300 years later (relation to Princess Kate?), and the Myddeltons lived there until 2004. Now it's a National Trust property.

Since Chirk Castle has been occupied for over 600 years there are new parts and old parts. Here is a nice old carriage house, and next to it (off camera) is a much more recent brick squash court, built for a young Myddelton when they showed an interest in the game.

Once inside there are volunteer docents to expound on all the history. One of them went on about an elaborate Tokugawa era Japanese chest, which he claimed was obviously made for export since it had a mix of Japanese and Western iconography, just look at these shamrocks on the sides.

Michele thought "Hold on bucko, that's no shamrock, that's a kamon!". She politely suggested that it might be a Japanese family crest. Once we had phone service she looked it up and confirmed that it is was indeed the kamon of the Sakai clan, faithful retainers of the Tokugawa shoguns. She mailed that off to the Chirk Castle curators, and they thanked her and said they will update their information. So that was our contribution to the National Trust!

Meandering through this area and crossing the canal at several points is Offa’s Dyke, which King Offa build back in the 8th century as part of the very long history of trying to keep the Welsh in Wales (and visa versa I suppose). Stretches of the dyke are still visible, including this bit that Michele is pointing to.

After the castle it was back on the boat and on to Froncysyllte, a small village just before the canal crosses the River Dee on the Pontcysyllte aqueduct. Another boater said there were plenty of places to tie up "after the lift bridge", which was true but they were all either long term moorings or the place where you get fresh water. I had pulled over in a long term spot and was in a dilemma. I wanted to stay on this side of the aqueduct in Froncysyllte but I couldn’t turn around, I was past the winding hole. I asked a passing boatman if my spot was OK, and as he glided past he said "normally no, but that fellow is in dry dock". So we tied up and put a sign on the boat to call me if there were any problems. I was nervous about it though, at least until nightfall. I hate breaking the rules.

We walked up to Dorothy Hartley’s grave. Hartley was the author of Food in England, a favorite book of Michele's, and lived in Froncysyllte overlooking the lift bridge on the canal.

We discovered that she also wrote Waters in England, which it now seems we need to read. Maybe that would be a good book on another canal trip.

Afterwards we had a pub meal at the Aqueduct Inn, which had a nice view. Here you can see the canal leading to the aqueduct, which is behind the trees. Celeste is (illegally 😬) moored at the end of the boats on the left, past the winding hole.

After dinner we walked over to the aqueduct. It was built by Thomas Telford in 1805. Telford was a Scottish engineer who built a lot of infrastructure in the UK, much with bit of style. Unlike the stone Chirk aqueduct the Pontcysyllte has relatively slender cast iron arches atop tall stone piers. It didn't seem to be leaking - good.

E26 U-Turn

2026-09-28T00:00:00Z

From perusing our our trusty Pearson's Canal Companion it looked like more peaceful Shropshire countryside was in store east from Ellesmere, with the next major town, Whitchurch, at least a day away. Last winter a canal embankment gave way just east of Whitchurch, so that's as far as we can go. Normally the Llangollen Canal is connected to the Shropshire Union Canal and on to the rest of the UK, but for maybe another six months or so the boats on the Llangollen Canal are trapped in Wales and Shropshire.

Behind us, west of Chirk was the mighty Pontcysyllte aqueduct and Llangollen. We decided to change plans, head west, and spend an extra day moored at the city marina in Llangollen.

First though I had to turn Celeste around. At the end of the canal arm into Ellesmere was a "winding hole", "wind" pronounced with a short i, like a breeze, not what you do to a clock spring. Supposedly in the horse drawn days you would use the wind to help you turn the boat. So here was my first winding hole, fairly spacious as they go.

It took me a couple of back and forth-s, but I managed to do it without bumping anything. Another narrow boater watched from her rear deck with a cup of tea in her hand. I think my novice piloting was her morning entertainment, but she said something nice afterwards. It was all very English.

The Llangollen Canal doubles as a water source and has a noticeable flow to it. It is fed by River Dee above Llangollen and supplies water to some of the towns along the way. We had been going downstream but now we were headed against the current. I bumped up the motor speed a bit.

We fell in with another narrowboat with three men from Sweden, so of course they were the Swedes. I think they knew each other from working together at Saab.

The day started a little damp but brightened up pretty quickly. The way marks along the canal are stone bridges, all numbered. Ellesmere was at bridge 59, and as we went back towards Wales the numbers increased, topping out at 69 at Frankton Junction, where the Montgomery Canal splits off. Bridge numbers reset there to 1W, 2W and so on. The last bridge at Llangollen is 45W.

The bridges are all just wide enough for a narrowboat to pass, along with the towpath. So as skipper I'm frequently threading the needle, guiding the boat with maybe a foot on each side. Often there are turns just before or after a bridge, in which case you give a little honk with your horn in case someone is coming the other way. It keeps you on your toes. Here we are approaching bridge 5W.

And then squeezing through.

We tied up on the right side here, just past the turn, because this was where the Narrowboat Inn was, and we had had a nice lunch the day before. The Swedes also stopped. Alas the kitchen was closed, so we moved on. The bar was open though, and the Swedes stopped for a pint.

We all met up again at New Marton locks. Here is Michele working the gates and doors.

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We tied up for the evening just before the Chirk aqueduct.

We took a pre-diner stroll along the aqueduct. There's a surprising amount of waterfowl and fish in the canal. It was common to see fishermen along the towpath with long poles, which they would lift up at the last minute to let you pass. Here are some ducks using the aqueduct to travel from Wales to England.

The canal here is up on the hillside as it approached the aqueduct. Our plan was to walk down to the Bridge Inn for dinner, which has a nice view of the aqueduct and railroad bridge from below. Alas the kitchen at the Bridge Inn was also closed! Mondays are tough. But no worries, we had provisions on board.

Maybe it doesn't sound that strange but to me it felt weird to walk downhill from your boat to the pub, and uphill to get back to your boat.

E26 Ellesmere

2026-09-27T00:00:00Z

The Llangollen Canal was built to move freight, before the railroads. Back when it was horses pulling narrowboats filled with coal, shale or farm goods the canal was known as the Ellesmere Canal, after the market town of Ellesmere. Which is where we were headed this Sunday.

It was on-and-off rain showers all day.

Traveling along the canal we fell in line with another Black Prince boat ("Sydney"), piloted by a tall guy maybe a little younger than me with his mom and a husky dog. We nicknamed him Balto. When we got to New Marton Locks we both had to stop for a couple of boats coming up the other way. Normally you alternate boats going up and down a lock, but these families coming up were having none of that. The first one went up the lock, then they immediately drained it and brought the second boat up while we waited. It was well before noon but the skippers both sounded a bit drunk, and there was a session of tossing kids back and forth once the second boat was up to rearrange the children. Then both skippers hit full throttle and roared off. If we saw them again I probably would nickname them the louts, but we didn’t.

Balto then entered the lock and we helped him down, opening and closing gates and doors. Another boat came up (as you should), then it was our turn.

Here I am waiting for a boat that's just come up to exit the lock. I untied too soon though, misjudged while waiting for the other boat to clear and got sucked onto that spillway on the left. No amount of throttle or pushing with my pole budged me. It took Michele and another stranger to pull me off with ropes. It's like sailing, you make every mistake once and try not to sink. I did make it safely into the lock and Michele and other fellow boaters helped me down.

An important part of navigating the lock is to keep your boat forward of the uphill door, because there is a concrete sill there that you can get hung up on.

It was kind of fun sinking into the English countryside as the water went down.

I felt a little bad for Balto, he said they hadn't eaten since lunch the day before. I tried hard to give him some food but he said they were fine, Ellesmere wasn't too far away. They had arrived late at the marina and by the time they had gotten on the water all the stores were closed.

The advice is to stay in the middle of the canal when underway, because the sides can be shallow and it’s easy to run aground. If I fell in I'm pretty sure I could stand up anywhere in the canal, it's not that deep. So Michele was always on the lookout for me for oncoming boats, and then I would veer to the right so we could pass port to port, like all boats do across the world. It's just the cars that are on the wrong side of the road. Sometime you run aground while hugging the bank, but a brief throttle in reverse gets you off and you're underway again.

Our rough daily plan was to eat breakfast onboard, either lunch or dinner out and the other meal in. Today was Sunday and we stopped at the Narrowboat Inn for Sunday lunch.

At Ellesmere there is a short arm of the canal that leads right into town, chock full of docked boats. When we approached we met a boat coming out saying that their spot is open now, so we swooped in and tied up. A couple of swans were our welcome committee.

It was Sunday afternoon and most shops were closed, but we found some good soup at a local health food store. I walked to the mere of Ellesmere, one of the glacial lakes that dotted the area.

Dinner was the soup and grilled cheese sandwiches with Appenzeller cheese we brought from Switzerland.

E26 Narrowboat Pickup

2026-09-26T00:00:00Z

Our trip up until this point had been mostly driven by seeing family, with some sightseeing bits along the way. Now things changed bit, the next week was an adventure just for us. We were going to travel the Llangollen canal in our own rented narrowboat.

Our first job was to get from Manchester Airport to Chirk, Wales. I chose to go via Transport for Wales (TfW) which connected in Chester. This is a trip across the industrial north of England, and the train station at Chester on a drizzly morning definitely kept to the industrial vibe.

Chester is a mid-sized city, but Chirk is a small town near the Welsh border, with a couple of small grocery stores, a few pubs and an old canal. It is also home to a factory that makes Cadbury hot chocolate mix. The marina where we were going to pick up our narrowboat was a mile and a half north of town, but our first job was to walk into town center from the train station, get some lunch and buy some supplies for the boat. We wound up eating at the Teddy Bear Cafe sandwich shop.

Help

I don't know if it is ubiquitous across the UK but Teddy Bear introduced us to "Coronation Chicken", a lightly curried chicken salad that was to be on most pub menus for the coming week.

The helpful people at the Black Prince marina had told us that the boat's fridge was small, so we only bought a few things at the local Spar. Again, not sure for the whole of the UK but I can report that Wales is replete with meat pies. Lamb, beef, the occasional veg, they have them all. I picked up a pork pie from the local butcher across the street from Teddy Bear.

Now we just needed to get ourselves, luggage, groceries and pork pie to the marina. The marina had earlier emailed me a list of local taxi companies and strongly suggested pre-booking. Three weeks before the trip I dutifully called a couple of them up. One didn't pick up, the next did but then she just said "Love, call back closer to the date (click)". Hmph.

So while in Switzerland last week I called back and tried to arrange a ride. Accents were thick and Welsh taxi dispatchers seem very impatient, at least with Americans, but I thought I got the job done.

But now here we were on the corner of Teddy Bear and Spar in Chirk and no taxi was showing up. Nervousness set in, we needed to be at the marina no later than 3:00 pm. It was already 2:30. The Coronation Chicken felt heavy in my stomach. I finally called they guy I thought I had booked for 2:00 pm, and he said in a miffed tone that he had been there on time at 12:00 pm and I wasn't (click). In theory we both speak English, but in practice...

So I tried the next entry on the list and our luck turned. The dispatcher and I seemed to understand each other, and she said that normally they don't have taxis near Chirk but one of theirs had just dropped off a fare near us, and hold on a few minutes. Sure enough, a helpful and cheerful driver drove up a few minutes later. On the way to the marina he gave us some great advice on booking the return trip from the marina, use the app. Music to my ears.

There are marinas every ten or twenty miles along the canal, with a particular operator using a given marina as a base. Chirk marina was Black Prince's base for the Llangollen Canal, and when we arrived there was a raft of maybe a dozen boats lined up at the dock. The front office told us to walk across the raft with our bags until we got to Celeste, motor running. We unpacked and checked out the boat, and then Kevin met us and gave a thorough tour. There was the diesel engine below the rear deck, the grease gun for the propeller shaft, the battery charger, the water tank, the fuel tank, the propane tank, the toilet, the stove, etc. And most importantly his phone number to call in a week when we returned, or before if we had any problems.

That all was about as expected. Kevin asked me about my boating experience, and I let him know that I was comfortable with a sailboat but didn't have much experience with a 52 foot long six foot wide pencil shaped narrowboat. I assumed there would now be a little lesson on driving this thing.

Kevin got us out of the marina, handed me the tiller and told me to aim for a spot on the canal bank. I thought "ok, we're going to learn mooring", but when we got to the bank he hopped off, cheerfully waved to us and wished us a great week. And so in a bit of a state of shock the two of us were off!

Kevin advised us first timers to head east, towards England, and then tackle the narrow bits on the Welsh Llangollen end later in the week, when we had a better feel for the boat. Here's a quick tour of our yurt-in-a-tube. It's very similar to RV living, most things run on twelve volt DC.

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Right away Chirk tunnel came up, and we had our first confusion over who was doing what. There's only width for one boat in the tunnel, and a boat emerging told us that the boat we see way at the end is just moored there.

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Nope, it was in fact a boat coming the other way. We had gone more than half way through, so they backed up.

Right after the tunnel is Chirk aqueduct, which is the border between England and Wales.

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When the neighboring train bridge was built next to the aqueduct there was a lot of worry that it would detract from the beauty of the aqueduct, but in fact they look great together.

Once in England we started looking for a place to park for the night. First we went by a pub that seemed a little noisy, then under a highway, and finally a quiet spot. We tied up and heated up that pork pie for dinner.

E26 La Chasse

2026-09-25T00:00:00Z

Ariel suggested a mountain restaurant for La Chasse, the traditional Fall hunters meal. We stopped by Sylvia’s house in the morning, said our goodbyes and continued up the hill in suburban Vevey to another “on demand” train stop, where you can press a button and the train stops just for you. We rode the local cog train up to Les Pléiades, the top of the mountain above Vevey. A cog train has a cog wheel that engages with a center rail for the steep parts. The center rail has a profile that looks like a Toblerone.

They have a bunch of astronomical outdoor exhibits at the top, including a model with a golf ball sized earth and a huge sun on a neighboring hill. Here is Michele holding the sun.

The restaurant is a half hour walk to an area called La Châ. You can only get to this restaurant by foot, ski or four wheel drive. How they stay in business I’m not sure, but the food was great.

I’m helping my friend Darin teach a cooking class at the end of October, supposedly “International Cooking”. Does this count? Too Germanic?

From 12 o’clock: grilled onion with mustard, poached shallot in wine, slow cooked leg of venison, a small stuffed cabbage, remoulade of celery, chestnuts with local honey, red cabbage sauerkraut, local wine grapes, butternut poached in said grape juice, local pear, poached. Spaetzle in the center.

By Friday evening we were in Manchester. The Raddison Blu hotel at Manchester airport is surprisingly great.

E26 Le Jardin du Souvenir

2026-09-24T00:00:00Z

My father died in December 2023. He had lived in the Vevey area for the last 25 years or so of his life. His ashes are in the Jardin du Souvenir at the eastern edge of St. Martin’s cemetery in Vevey.

It seems shorter than three years. Time is passing quickly.

We cooked lunch on Thursday for my Swiss family: Sylvia, cousin Marc, Marc's step-father Jeannot, and Sylvia's companion Ariel. They spoiled us by speaking mostly English, but enough French to keep Jeannot and Ariel in the mix.

E26 Châteaux d’Oex

2026-09-23T00:00:00Z

Tuesday was a travel day by train from Geneva to Vevey and visiting with my step-mother Sylvia.

The night before we stayed at the Ibis near Geneva airport, which is a 15 minute walk from the terminal. The first part, through the train station then along the convention center, isn’t too bad, but then you come to a two story high flight of stairs leading to a bridge over a highway, with the hotel on the other side of the bridge. Hauling your luggage up those stairs is daunting, but there is an elevator under the stairs. To use the elevator you have open a door and enter into a small pitch black room and then fumble around for the up button. Until the elevator door opens and throws some light into the situation it’s a spooky experience. That dark anteroom has been like that for years, which is unusual for Switzerland. The Swiss are usually very good at maintenance, perhaps the best in the world.

Vevey was beautiful as always.

Wednesday was our day to explore. We took the MOB mountain train towards Gstaad and got off at an “on demand” stop at La Tine. It’s just like a bus, you can press a button and the train stops at a rural siding in a mountain valley to let you off.

We had a lovely hike up the valley to Châteaux d’Oex. About 20 years ago, at Christmas time, we had gone to Châteaux d’Oex as a family to go skiing, and then went back then next day to try luge (i.e. sleds). There was tons of snow and we all took some crazy spills but had a great time. Sadly Châteaux d’Oex doesn’t get much snow anymore and the ski slope closed several years ago. The town is still pretty though. Michele and I stopped for a crêpe before walking a loop around Châteaux d’Oex and taking the train back. In late September it was more green fields than deep snow.

Châteaux d’Oex is still looking good, I hope they find their footing as a year round destination.

Another favorite of ours that has closed is Ze Fork down on the quay in Vevey. It has been replaced with a more beef focused restaurant. It looked like it was still a good restaurant but like a lot of people we're eating less red meat than we used to. We ate instead at a restaurant near the market square, which was highly rated on Google and recommended by some AI that I used but I would say wasn’t really what we were after. It was more flimsy outdoor tables and ashtrays than I was hoping for.

I’m getting annoyed by online reviews, and the AI opinions built on them. I think I need to focus more on sizing things up in person. That crêperie we stumbled on in Châteaux d’Oex was great, no AI guidance needed.

E26 A Mediocre Museum

2026-09-22T00:00:00Z

In the morning we visited Lund’s oldest store with Evalena, then collected our bags and headed out. We had the afternoon to spend in Copenhagen, because our plane to Geneva wasn’t until the evening. It was a Monday, so many things were closed, but we decided to try the Nationalmuseet, since it was close to the train station and, well, it was open.

I’m a sucker for museums and am usually easy to please. The National Museum had good stuff but was confusingly laid out. It’s not at all clear how to access many of the exhibits. The entrance area was a three-floor atrium lined with mostly blank doors.

Almost all the doors were closed. I tried the handle on a few but they didn't swing open. I went back to the ticket counter and they advised me to go up a floor, pick a door, turn the handle and push hard. Which is not something that I would do at your average museum, or really anywhere not my house, but it worked! I would like to reiterate that these doors are unlabeled, with very stiff door closers. Maybe the Danes are taught what to do at an early age. Maybe they like the clean lines, no signage to clutter things up.

I learned that there’s a lot of old gold and silver out there in the Danish bogs.

That evening we were herded onto our EasyJet flight to Geneva. Moo.

I've read that in China, in boarding situations like this, they've had problems with people throwing coins into engine for good luck.

E26 New Shoes

2026-09-21T12:00:00Z

We’ve evolved a tradition of buying our niece Evalena a pair of shoes when we visit. It began in Albany and continues in Lund. On this trip we could only meet up late on Sunday or Monday morning, not the best times for shopping in Europe. I was kind of worried we wouldn’t have any place to go, but Evalena was waaaay ahead of us. We hopped on the train and went straight to a particular shop in a particular mall in big-city Malmö.

She had the shoes (dark red pumps) picked out and had scoped out the stores. She’s definitely turned a corner.

I think Sweden is starved for labor. Need some coffee? Try the “FikaBot”!

As far as I can figure out Evalena is doing well. On track at school, local internship, lots of friends.

One of us has nice new shoes

E26 Lund

2026-09-20T00:00:00Z

About an even 1000 years ago, in 1020, King Sweyn Forkbeard of Denmark looked around the large plain of what is now southern Sweden and decided that a good place for a defensible castle would be on a broad hill, thus founding Lund. Roll froward 400 years and the Academy of Lund was founded, then in 1666 the University of Lund. I think the university sits atop the hill now, with an observatory near the top.

We were in Lund to visit our niece Evalena, but first we had a morning to walk around on our own.

Lund is a compact town with a slightly confusing center. I find that sometimes a landmark jumps out in these old tangle town situations, it might be a particular building or shop. In Lund’s case it was this particular Chinese dumpling shop, which I recognized from the last time we were in Lund. It’s in a basement space with essentially no room to eat downstairs. There’s a counter to order dumplings and a couple of spots with high shelves to stand and eat your dumplings. There’s also a bunch of outdoor tables and chairs, usually tied up with security cables. This dumpling shop was a half block away from our hotel, and it seemed like no mater which direction we set off or returned from I would recognize the basement doors leading to the dumpling cave and my brain would say “aha! We are home!”

The most obvious landmark isn’t the dumpling shop, it’s the central cathedral. Probably the most memorable thing abound Lund cathedral is their awesome astrological clock, which I think I wrote about last time but I’m going to post a video again. Time of day, day of the year, moon phase, sunrise and sunset, moonrise and moon set. Probably more.

If you arrive at the right time you can see the procession of wise men paying homage to baby Jesus.

▶ Watch on YouTube

There was a children’s choir practicing on the Saturday afternoon we arrived, and there was an adult singing group with an accompanying accordion on the outside plaza. Swedes like to sing! We headed for “Fisk and Kök” for a delicious bowl of fish soup. On the way were more Swedes dancing around.

▶ Watch on YouTube

Lund isn’t large but being an old university town has endowed it with many interesting buildings, museums, gardens, sculpture and so on.

The main library had an exhibit displaying a copy of Copernicus’s De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium that was discovered in the library’s holdings. Copernicus’s book was bound together with another old book, and the only card catalog entry to find it was hand written. A recent scanning and transcribing of the card catalog using AI, including the old hand written cards, turned up the copy.

Lund claims that their student led festival every four years is the second largest volunteer event in the world, after the Olympics. Hmmm 🤔, really? Not some Hindu festival in India? Not a huge matsuri in Japan? Not the Fête des Vignerons in Vevey?

E26 Borders

2026-09-19T00:00:00Z

When you enter a country your right to privacy and freedom of movement gives way to a state’s need to control who gets in. The state wants to match the person presenting at the border to a database record. The way you used to do this was to present a special hard-to-fake piece of paper (a passport) that had both the database index (name and passport number) and a photo of the person. So many spy stories hinge on altering a passport, and thus the match between person, photo and database index.

Jason Bourne though is exploiting a weak link - why is the person at the border presenting the thing that links the person and database? So the US is moving in pieces to not really needing a passport, first for “Global Entry” citizens returning to the US. The government collects extra info, like finger prints and facial scans, and then at the border they just do a facial match and wave you through.

The EU is doing Global Entry one better. They are collecting identifying info for all people crossing into the EU.

Which is just a long winded way of saying that entering the EU right now is a pain. It took us an extra hour while they collected fingerprints and did facial scans. Do not book a tight connection after landing in your first EU country. You have been warned.

How long until passports are obsolete? 🤔

After landing in Copenhagen we took the train across the Öresundsbron to Malmö in Sweden. Evidently the Danish Copenhagen area and the Swedish Malmö region function more and more as one large metro. Sweden is a little cheaper to live in, so many live in Sweden and commute to Copenhagen acrross the Øresund bridge.

Our destination was the old university town of Lund, Sweden, where our niece Evalena goes to school.

E26 The Wallace Collection

2026-09-18T00:00:00Z

Our hotel was The Hoxton, Holborn. It’s a chain that started in London and they’ve spread all over now, including for example Los Angeles. I think they all go for a slightly retro stylish vibe, with a nice lounge in the lobby. Think decorative rivets around door frames and mock mid century desk radios. The lounge was always full of young professionals, some working on their laptops but most having a drink with someone. It was a relaxed vibe compared to the West End pubs we walked by, with their lively crowds taking over the sidewalks holding pints of beer.

The Hoxton Holborn was only a few blocks from the British Museum, and across the street from the British Museum was the main attraction of the neighborhood (for me at least), the Craft Potters Association gallery.

The CPA represents the best potters in Britain, and it’s a treat to see them all in one spot. They had a special exhibit of Peter Beard’s work, which lately features layered slips over a textured surface, all ground down with an angle grinder(!). It’s a striking look and an unbelievable amount of work and dust for each piece. I hope he wears a mask!

I wound up buying a footed square dish by Sean Miller, this shape but in this glaze style.

Next we headed to the Wallace Collection, a private aristocratic art collection that was given to the British public in 1900. It’s still the museum as it was gifted, packed with mostly French art, including porcelain.

I used to be bored by the baroque excess of Limoges and Sèvres porcelain, but I’m starting to warm up to it more. I can’t imagine the amount of work that went into pieces like these, all the fine detail and multiple firings.

The place is just packed with art.

Pieces ranged from tiny wax cameos to giant landscapes. For paintings Wallace seemed to prefer Italian countryside, still lifes featuring hunted hares, and pretty women.

Oh, and rooms full of armor.

In 2000 they glassed in the courtyard and made a nice restaurant. Michele and I indulged in a tea.

I think this might be my last set English Tea. It’s pretty much all carbs and I’m too old for a late lunch of bread and sugar. Although the scones were good.

On the way back to the hotel we passed by a shop with a kitchen robot in the window and the signage “New AI Robotic Chef”. We went in to find out more, but nobody was there! It was just us and the robot, biding its time until the robot uprising.

Who would buy such a thing? It still needs mise en place in those containers on the side, it doesn’t chop or prep. I think we humans still have a few years left.

E26 Six

2026-09-17T18:00:00Z

We had dinner that night at Colonel Saab, which was right next door to our hotel. The space used to be the Holborn city hall, and I’m unclear if all the chandeliers are original to the city hall or that Saab liked dusting crystal.

Colonel Saab was good food. Big props for Saab just serving dishes at a set heat level, no questions about 1-10 spiciness.

When we were walking around the West End we noticed Six was playing, which seemed up Michele’s alley. So I found some last minute tickets, which was pretty easy to do for all the West End shows mid week. Michele likes to read historical fiction about English history. There was a moment in the show where the wives are wondering why they are famous at all, and they rhetorically ask “Do you remember who Henry the 7th’s wife was?” Michele was about to raise her hand. It was pretty light fare, but it kept two jet lagged Americans awake with some good singing.

Before Six I could name three of the wives, but now I know all of them! So I guess I learned something.

Walking back to the hotel I thought about the beautiful lighting of old cities at night.

E26 The Storehouse

2026-09-17T00:00:00Z

The V&A, Britain’s museum of decorative arts, is one of my favorite places. The main museum is near Kensington Gardens, and the main floor has loads of popular exhibits, like the armor collection. My usual route though is straight upstairs to the quiet 4th floor, down the corridors of furniture and into the studio pottery area. They have a treasure trove of English and Japanese pots, plus fascinating exhibits like a reconstruction of Lucy Rie’s postwar London studio.

Like any big museum the V&A has far more objects than it can exhibit, so when I read last year they had built a new storehouse that was open to the public I knew I wanted to go. Even better though, I saw on their website that the Storehouse has a program called Order an Object, where visitors can request five objects from the online catalog and make an appointment to see and handle them up close. It’s free and available to everyone, no UK citizenship needed.

For a potter this is irresistible. The way you can tell a potter in a ceramics shop is that they’re the one picking up the pots, turning them over and running their hands along the sides.

I decided I wanted to see some old pots with dark iron saturate glazes. I found two Song Dynasty (about 1000 years old) pots, a Japanese “oil spot” pot from about 120 years ago, and a more contemporary Bernard Leach pot for comparison. That’s four items, I had one more to go. I thought about what Michele might be interested in and had a brainwave. It turns out they have a 200 year old Shishi gashira (“lion head”, the Japanese lion dance costume), in the same tradition as Michele’s Shishimai group’s gashira.

The V&A Storehouse is on the east side of London in the Queen Elisabeth Olympic Park, which was the center of the 2012 Olympic Games. The walk to the Storehouse from Stratford Station goes by the Olympic Stadium (now evidently home to West Ham United).

The area used to be the “Lower Lea Valley” and was the heart of London’s dirtiest industries before devolving into polluted wasteland. It was a massive cleanup to turn it into the pleasant park setting it is today.

The Storehouse itself is on the edge of what was the Olympic Village.

The Storehouse is mostly a working facility, but on the south end there is a public entrance that leads directly to a central courtyard, where the public can peer into the stacks and work spaces.

That’s a glass floor in the center there, where you can look down into a work area, where conservators conserve.

There’s also views into the stacks and other work spaces. The objects are almost all unlabeled and mostly arranged by size as far, as I could figure out. There might be a mid century modern chair next to a marble bust of a Roman.

There were views down into various storage and work areas.

Including this securely caged collection of swords, probably no blunt tips on these weapons.

And tantalizingly a view into the room where we would get see our special objects.

The Storehouse is the home of David Bowie’s collection of outfits and memorabilia. It looks like someone requested a Bowie outfit, platform shoes and some guitars to look at.

Getting to see my old pots up close was great. I didn’t realize that the Leach pot was so big, although I did suspect that the old Song pots would be on the small side. As long as we kept the objects over the foam and close to the table they were fine with us handling them.

Michele’s Shishi stole the show. The curators were excited that Michele was a performer of the Shishimai and were asking her questions. Although the surface of this Shishi had more red paint and less gold gilt than San Diego’s, it was striking how similar the carvings are. London Shishi is actually much lighter, although that might be because there is no aori (the fabric drape) or mane attached.

It was a memorable afternoon.

E26 Pillow Mystery

2026-09-16T00:00:00Z

About eight years ago I announced that I was done flying in seats with no leg room, my kneecaps jammed against the seat-back in front of me, dreading the person in front suddenly pressing their recline button. From then on I’ve at least gotten us exit row seats or “Economy Plus” seats in the middle of the plane.

That put us on a slippery slope though, so now on long flights if the planets align we’re not just in the middle but up towards the front of the plane, in the cubicle section.

After a lifetime of riding in economy Michele are I are both a little embarrassed about this. I know, we shouldn’t be, but there it is. So we try to dodge the subject when talking about “how was your flight?” and when it does come up Michele says it‘s because I’m so tall, and I say it’s because of Michele’s back. Which is partly true and partly a small load of bs, because the truth is that it’s really nice to catch a few hours of sleep when you jump nine times zones. The flight to Europe is almost always a red eye, and that first day can be pretty rough for people like us who who run best on a full night’s sleep.

You can now bring out a very tiny violin, because I just want to say that that I didn’t have a pillow for most of this flight from San Diego to London Heathrow. I went forward to use the bathroom after dinner, and when I returned my pillow was gone. I thought I had just knocked it onto the floor, but I couldn’t find it anywhere in my cube or the aisle, even though it was a regular sized pillow. I went up to the flight attendant’s area and asked if they had any extras (they didn’t), described the situation, and one of the FA’s eye’s widened - “Somebody STOLE YOUR PILLOW!” I guess so?

As I returned to my seat I surveyed my fellow passengers with a new suspicion. My pillow was nearby, inside this plane… did anyone look like they had extra cushioning 👀? I couldn’t see anything obvious. Someone here 🧐 was a thief. I didn’t press it though. I made do with a folded blanket, which honestly was fine.

We took the Heathrow Express to Paddington, although what we should have done is take the relatively new Elisabeth Line straight to our hotel in Holborn. I have bad memories from a taking the Piccadilly subway from Heathrow decades ago, so I had ”avoid the Underground” in my head. The Elisabeth Line is pretty impressive though. It carries 250 million passengers a year, around a million people a day. It’s the Yamamote Line of London, and a public transport triumph.

We went for a walk after an early dinner. The air was clear, smelled clean, and London looked pretty good. Here’s the view from Waterloo Bridge.