We're in Slaithwaite, or are we?

Thursday and we have a family watching and waving as we go through the lock. 

It's lovely the way families and walkers all wave and chat as we go past.  

In some respects this canal is quite neglected. Fuchsia and brambles over grow bridges and lock entrances and the pounds are shallow and silted up. Several times we had to let water out of the lock above us before we could move forward. 

Later in the day and rain starts coming across. In the background an old mill that is now apartments. 

Several times I had to lower the funnel to get through the bridges. 

And here we are coming into Slaithwaite. Or is it? The locals pronounce it Slough (as in plough) It. Slow-it. 

The canal in the middle of town and it's still very narrow. We moored for the night outside the handmade bakery and cafe and, later in the evening, Christine and Peter took us back to their flat for supper. Brigid and I know Christine from Pleshey and Cursillo. She and Peter were married last April. 

We had a look at the guillotine-type tailgate on the next lock up. This lock has to be operated by C&RT staff and we have booked to go through at 10am tomorrow when Christine and Peter will be joining us for the day.