The channel for the weir branched off to our right, complete with wire rope and warning signs. I had expected to find it a hive of activity, or at least to see a handful of people on the boats which were moored at either side of the river but we were greeted with silence. It didn’t seem right on such a fine evening but I assumed the hour was later than I thought, although I still hoped the lock keeper would be around, or even some walkers to whom I could deliver Lindsey. There might be a house, or even a pub, I thought. As we approached the slime covered wooden gates and the metal ladder set into the concrete bank, the quiet started to seem unnatural. Probably for the best, I thought. “We’ll see if we can camp here for the night,” I said, now thinking it might be late enough to worry about losing the light. Although I had only one sleeping bag, it was warm enough for me not to need it if we shared the tent. I didn’t mind one bit giving up a small part of my planned comfort, if the truth be known I was beginning to enjoy the company of someone who didn’t judge me or take every opportunity to put me down.
