Granny at Battlebridge Basin

 
Granny has just spent a couple of weeks at Battlebridge Basin.  A big thank you to Martyn of Oothoon (boat and blog), whose berth I usurped while he was up in the Midlands. 

Granny Buttons, for two weeks a cuckoo in his cosy Kings Cross nest, has now flown up to Cheshunt on the River Lee.  As a continuous cruiser, I'm punctilious about not overstaying my allotted 14 days in any one 'neighbourhood'.

It was an interesting experience, being in a residential boat community for a while.  However, I didn't spend enough time aboard to socialise with my neighbours. 

I was alongside Bird-Song, which was a jolly reunification, because we tied up together for a fortnight back in 2002, at Oundle on the River Nene.

The most charming aspect of my stay was seeing the little communal kitchen garden - or is that an allotment? - which the moorers share.  Tomatoes and potatoes were the only fruit/vegetables I noticed, but I'm really not a gardener, so I'm sure I missed many more.

I loved this 'allotment' in the Basin.  Moorings need a domestic element, to prevent them from feeling like 'boat parks'. 

Battlebridge Basin provides this garden in spades.  Literally, in this case.  The Basin 'allotment' is a product of the residents.  Left to British Waterways,  it would probably be simply another urban boat park.

The least charming aspect was finding that a tom cat had walked into my well deck during the night and sprayed his masculinity all over (see above/right). 

Ugh!   Two days later, the smell is still strong, and it's probably gone over my coir doormat, which will need replacing.

The moggy pictured at top couldn't have been the culprit - it's female, and was quick to come aboard and nuzzle up to me.  Perhaps it was the one seen left (and hidden, above, in the grass).

As a mooring Battlebridge Basin isn't cheap - if Granny was to stay here, I'd not get much change out of £700 a month, and that's just to tie up - I'd still need a boat licence.  However, it is secure, a prime mooring, one of the most convenient and best-serviced  in the city, with electricity, cheap pump-out (£7), water and even a telephone line.  

I think I'd chafe at being here permanently.  Nestled tightly amongst other boats I was quickly feeling tied down and claustrophobic.  The view is fixed, without a vista, and I was constantly worried at what the neighbours might think - if my midnight lights or radio were disturbing them, if they could sense my boat rocking as I moved from the bed to the loo during the night, if they could see me wandering about inside, half-naked.

Still, knowing I was just there for a fortnight, I milked the opportunity for all I could.

Comments

[Davina Richards]

I've just stumbled across your blog, and your lifestyle on board sounds so lovely! I'm utterly envious :)

As for that pesky tomcat, treat yourself to a nice new stripey rainbow coir doormat that I've found for under a tenner (which is always good!).

You'll find it here: http://www.doormatsdelivered.com/product.aspx/85/Rainbow_Brown_Coir_Mat

Take care!

[Nick Corble]

Ah memories! Used to look down on the Basin working from the old warehouse (?) to the south in the days before I had a boat - perhaps that was where the seeds were sown? Talking of seeds, funny time of the year for allotments, just harvested and waiting for winter crops to come along.