This was the day we were dreading! We had heard so many tales of problems going into Birmingham this way that we weren't looking forward to it very much and our plan was to get right through Birmingham and out to Curdworth before the end of the day. It was an even earlier start than usual. The first noticeable difference on the Grand Union was how wide the canal was, a marked contrast to most of the canals we had travelled on. In a short while we would come to Knowle Locks which are wide-beam to match the width of the canal. We had no qualms about going through wide locks but little did we realise that we would almost lose the boat before going through the first lock!

Some very pleasant rural countryside was passed through before we came to the foot of the Knowle flight where we moored up on the bollards as usual securing the boat by the centre line. A boat had just gone up ahead of us so the lock was full and I went up to operate the paddles with Sandy for a change leaving Sean on board (luckily!). The mooring is on a slight bend so the whole boat could not be seen from the lockside as we opened the paddles. Unknown to us the water comes out of here like a tidal wave and as we walked back we found Sean desperately trying to undo the centre line as the boat was being swept away by the torrent of water and was lying at a horrifying angle being pulled from the top by the attached line. Luckily the back was still close to shore so I told Sean to get back on board while I loosened the centre line which was difficult under tension. As the line came off the boat bobbed back to upright and Sean was able to steer it back to the mooring. This was quite a frightening experience and one which taught us to treat wide locks with extreme caution. Our lesson had been learned and if you come up this way be warned!

The boat going up waited for us at the next lock so we went through the remaining four locks together. We allowed our partner out first each time but he had a struggle to keep the boat over to the left of the lock until I figured out that going out alongside him but slightly behind would help to keep him in place, and so with this method we were able to get through the rest of the locks with ease. The crew on board had also heard the reports of problems on this stretch and they planned to go even further than us before nightfall.

The stretch of the Grand Union above Knowle Locks and past Catherine de Barnes is still very rural and most pleasant. We had hoped to stop at the Bakery mentioned in Pearsons for some fresh bread and cakes but when we got there found that they had decided to take the whole week off as part of the Jubilee celebrations so we were disappointed. Once we came to Elmdon Heath it became immediately apparent that we were entering Birmingham again as factories and wasteland appeared with walls alongside the canal covered in graffiti which was to stretch all the way into Birmingham. Although the environs were not very pleasant we experienced no trouble as there was absolutely no-one around save for the occasional dog-walker. It was noticeable that most of the dogs were quite huge and ferocious looking so maybe they were taken for protection in case the yobbos were about!

We intended to stop for lunch on board somewhere along this stretch but thesurroundings were not very pleasant so we decided on bacon butties on the go, a decision which was to be of benefit later. Camp Hill locks signalled our arrival into Birmingham proper and here we caught up with five other boats in front which slowed progress somewhat but the locks were quite interesting with a splendid brick-relief canal boat set in the walls between locks 54 and 55. A very tight right hand turn at the foot of the final lock of the flight took us under a bridge and on to the Saltley Cut which turned out to be a reminder of the heavy industrial past of the canals, passing under road and rail bridges in quick succession. Interesting from a historical point of view although not perhaps everyone's cup of tea, but then there is little alternative to this type of landscape if you need to go through Birmingham. Garrison locks were all quite easy and we were soon onto a stretch where the surroundings opened out and we thought we were past the worst but it was then that our problems began.

Up ahead of us just beneath bridge 108 we spotted a boat which was about four or five feet into the cut with the weed hatch up. We gave him plenty of room and just as we passed under the bridge ... bang! .. the prop stopped dead. No way would it start up so we had to pole the boat back behind the other one which was where we discovered why he was so far from the bank. A huge concrete shelf lay alongside the bank making it impossible to get close to the edge and the towpath was all concreted with nowhere to tie up so we hoped that the boat would stay put while I pulled up the hatch and got to work. I thought that the armchair I had hit last week was bad enough but this was much worse. I changed into the clothes I had ruined last week down the engine hole because I knew I would get filthy, and of course, it was raining again! After many rests and occasional wanders up and down the canal to warn other boats I was finally able to extract about ten feet of one inch thick heavy industrial electrical cable from around the prop after almost an hour and a half. I had hacked at it with kitchen knives and scissors, wound it back and forth, hurt my ribs, and cut my hands before the offending stuff was finally off. We photographed it on the towpath for posterity (picture) and then chucked it over the fence before getting underway again. Isn't this narrowboat lark supposed to be fun?

We journeyed on under Spaghetti Junction, which was quite novel from this vantage point, and past our friend who had got caught earlier moored up with his weed hatch open. Surely he could not have hit anything else? Oh yes he could for a few hundred yards further on I couldn't believe it as the engine cut again. This time there was a tyre wedged firmly round the prop. This was turning into a nightmare. I feared another hour lost but was luckily able to extract it after twenty minutes. Another chuck over the hedge and we were on our way once again. Surely nothing more could go wrong?

Luckily the rest of the journey was without incident and we passed by many familiar features on the way out of Birmingham. The Tyburn pub looked very different from the canal and from Minworth Locks it was hard to remember that the A38 ran just alongside. By this time I was taking little notice of the passing landscape as the episodes down the weed hatch had left me so exhausted that all I wanted to do was moor up for the night. It wasn't too long before we reached Curdworth and moored up with just a 50 yard walk to the White Horse pub. This was going to be one dinner and a good rest that I was going to enjoy!