All down hill from here

An intersting week of pootling.  Some nice locks, some not so nice swing bridges.  The wind caught us out several times and we managed to run aground quite comprehensively yesterday but what's life without a little excitement?  We're in Foulridge today, a little village apparently named after Vikings who used the ridge above us to spot rape and pillaging opportunities. The word 'Foul' is a mispronouncement of some Viking word it would seem.  The good thing is that there is a cafe just by the canal that does Sunday lunch, has beer and likes dogs. Then I can fall asleep in front of the Bahrain GP this afternoon.
This stretch of the canal is the highets point and from now on we will descending, which with these locks will be a little easier.  They all have very awkward ground and gate paddles to fill them up but emptying is much more straightforward.  First we have to go through the Fouldridge tunnel, of about 1600 yards and then there only two small flights of locks for miles until we get to Wigan when there is a flight of 21 which should be fun.  Once we are there I should have a better idea of how long it will then take to get to Liverpool because we have to book in as numbers are limited.

The entrance to the Foulridge tunnel, dark and gloomy but better than going over the top with all those Spam eating Vikings waiting to pounce.