Having mentioned the really short footpath, I though it would be fun to go and walk it. So we did, on the way to visit Little Moreton Hall. It is small, yet perfectly formed. Two kissing gates separated by about 6m of footpath. The rain of the last few days has made the route down to the hall pretty muddy. My new boots got a true christening. But it wasn’t the mud that stopped us. We were in sight of the prize, but the last field had these very scary cows. When they saw Sam and me, they began to converge on us from all multiple directions. Really, they were not stopping. We got half way across the field before I decided that retreat was the best policy. As soon as we turned, they lost interest in us. I think Sam was happy to retreat, judging by how hard she tried to remove my arm at the shoulder.
Back at the boat for lunch and the short trip into Congleton. The mile markers on the Macc are these rugged stone affairs, this one showing it’s 12 miles to Marple. Lots of other landmarks to recognise along this route, not all of them specifically related to the canal. That’s what happens when you return to the town where you spent the first 18 years of your life.
First is Ferric the Red. This little boat has been moored on the stretch before Congleton Wharf for many years. Always something to look out for, signalling the approach to the Wharf, a landmark that has some significance. The aqueduct at the end of the wharf crosses Canal Road. I was born in the hospital on Canal Road, just downhill from the wharf. And I lived for the first year of my life in the house next door to the shop, just uphill from the wharf.
After passing under another of the Macclesfield Canal’s characteristic turnover bridges, you then enter an little hidden away underworld. The canal makes it’s way under the railway and two road bridges, the old and the new. If you are on the road or rails, you are hard pressed to even see the canal under you.
The embankment looking over Dane-in-Shaw is not far away, but when I got there, the only place to moor is right at the far end by the Biddulph Valley Way. It’s not the best view, but better than some. I can see why no-one else moored here though. The bank is totally overgrown. I needed to hack down masses of vegetation to even get off the boat. And then I got nettled, again.
I’m staying here until Friday, when I will move onto our mooring at Scholar Green. Tomorrow’s adventures will be entirely land-based.