Having spent all of Friday waiting for a phone call to tell us our alternator had arrived, it finally came at about 4 pm, and of course there were no engineers available to come and fit it, so we were told to expect a call from the engineer on Sat morning to let us know when he was coming. Well, Saturday morning came and went, and we finally got the call on Saturday afternoon, to say that the alternator that they had ordered had a different pulley and wouldn’t fit! Needless to say, Rog was not amused! He agreed to them ordering the right one, but told them that he was also going to try to get one at Norbury, which is what he did, and fitted it himself with only one minor mishap – he managed to blow one of the twelve volt fuses attached to the batteries when his spanner slipped and caught one of the contacts. But a quick call to a friend who knew exactly where the fuses were (we had forgotten), and a quick look by one of Norbury’s engineers who turned the fuse upside down and replaced it, and it was all working again. The alternator cost £95, and a tenner to Norbury’s engineer. RCR were going to charge us approx £260, including labour and travelling time (the domestic alternator isn’t included in their parts cover), so we saved ourselves over a hundred and fifty quid – bargain! Rog then called the RCR engineer again and cancelled the order, and the call.
We stayed where we were on Saturday night (overstaying the 48 hrs by half a day – slapped wrist!) and then yesterday we moved up onto the other visitor moorings on the embankment, having filled with water and emptied loo cassettes on the way. We partook of the Sunday lunch carvery in the Navigation Inn, and spent the rest of the day relaxing in the sunshine. I know we’d not been doing anything for two days, but it’s amazing how stressful it is just waiting for people to call and keep you in the loop as to what is happening!
This morning we set of to another of our favourite mooring spots on the Shroppie. We filled with water again at Wheaton Aston, queued for a little while for the lock, and continued on through Brewood (pronounce Brood) and moored between Bridges 7 and 8.
Our stalkers, Rosie and Jim (!) setting off from Norbury on Friday morning
Making the most of their canal-side setting, this unusual house seems to blend into the surrounding countryside.
Another long, straight bit!
And another cutting – it looks much brighter in the photo than it actually is
We spotted Beacon’s No 7 boat, moored in Brewood, but there didn’t seem to be anyone on board
The very ornate Avenue Bridge leading to Chillington Hall
Moored between Bridges 7 and 8
12.3 miles and 1 lock
Glad to hear your alternator is sorted and you and Rog can get on with enjoying the Shroppie. Brewood is one of my favorite villages. It is very atmospheric especially at dusk. It reminds me of a Dark Shadows set (vampire saga from the 70's in the U.S.).
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