Hanging Basins of Stourport

Nature does incredible things with water, usually within the panorama of river systems or the tenacity of oceans.  We try to control or direct these powers but often without success.  Canals, on the other hand, are cut with precision and used with ingenuity.  Stourport on Severn has both of these and is home to almost a hundred boats.  I visited the town this weekend and the abundance of water in this renowned island port creates a feeling of harmony with nature.

I began my quest into Stourports pedigree by visiting the Windlass Restaurant and Cafe, which nestles on the riverbank.  I wanted to look around the Old Tontine Stable Heritage Room which adjoins the eatery, but firstly I succumbed to the temptation of lemon cheesecake - well I would.  Exquisite.


Once suitably refreshed I enquired as to whether I could see the room, aware that leaflets set out a programme of tour dates - all of which are expired for this year, but a new programme will be announced for next year.  After a short wait, the chef came and unlocked the room, and I was invited in shortly afterwards.  He'd checked the place out and switched on a short televised documentary about stabling in the region.


"At one time," he informed me, "The whole building operated as stabling facilities for the horses that towed barges along the canal."  Much cooler than the restaurant, the bare brick walls had only a semblance of the whitewash that would have been arbitrary in the eighteenth century.


The documentary explained that the boatman's first concern on arrival would be finding a stable for the night, known as "A tanner a night."  The horse had to be kept warm and dry to prevent it getting sick.  Built at the same time were the Tontine Stable and the Tontine Hotel, a large characterless building with rooms that were hired out to merchants and traders.  The documentary goes on to describe how a boat horse harness differs from that of any other working horse and, chiefly, this amounts to a series of wooden bobbins that roll with the movement of the horse, and prevents chafing.  As with all things regarding the canal, these would be painted to suit the colours of the boat company.


Behind the Tontine lies a maize of basins at varying levels and linked by a series of locks and bridges, some of which could swing to allow access for barges.  The Wolverhampton Canal disappears into a dark hole that looks like a cul-de-sac, but on inspection, I found that lock gates immediately behind the bridge closed off all light.  This section filled me with awe.  I stood on a grating and, below it water gushed along the length of the walkway and under a concrete plinth.  This overflow from one basin, bypassed the lock and fell into a lower basin, carrying out the role of a weir.

A sign warned that boats should not enter the river when a red light showed because water levels were too high and river locks may be closed.  This confused me because I'd never heard of such things.  Even so, a red light was displayed and the boats were all stationary.

Thin Air in the Andies

Have you ever considered what it's like to breathe 4,000 meters above sea level?  I did when I knew I was going to La Paz.  Everyone who'd been there said they thought they would never be able to cope with the altitude.  I imagined myself gasping for isolated pockets of oxygen.

The problem is that you don't gradually climb to that height, you are instantly there.

We arrived at six a.m. from lowland Miami.  The aircrew woke us with hot drinks, and most people chose tea or coffee.  An American gentleman opted for a cup of hot water, to which he added a teabag.  "Helps me with the altitude," he explained.  "Always suffer when I first arrive."  I learned to do the same whenever I could.  The teabag contained finely chopped coca leaves - which surprisingly can be bought legally in America, but not in Britain.

Mount Illimani

Below us I could make out the Grande Cordillera range of mountains that separates La Paz from the Amazon basin.  Mount Illimani is the highest peak.

At the air terminal I walked down the steps, breathing... well, normally.  The air was thinner, but I felt confident I could deal with it. And you can - so long as you don't do anything.  Leaving the
airport, I saw La Paz laid out before me in an amazing panorama.

La Paz

Our tour guide advised us to drink three litres of water a day - just keep drip feeding the stuff.  My wife, Pat and I tasked ourselves with buying a litre of water each and returning it to the hotel.  Have you noticed this first mistake?

Then we took a stroll along the avenue Municipal Santa Cruz in the pleasant seventy degree sunshine.  My chest began to tighten as we ascended the gentle slope and I found myself searching for breath.  There were several cafes, fresh fruit baskets and bric-a-brac stalls along the busy thoroughfare.  I sat at an open air table and introduced myself to coca tea - it tasted OK.

Next morning I gasped for breath as I Drew on my socks, a bit like you do after running a 100 yard sprint.

We began our tour with a cultural walk around the city, and given an insight into the Bolivian mind with a history lesson.  In 1879, according to the guide, Chile invaded Bolivia's Atacama Desert in a bid to take ownership of the generous mineral deposits.  The Bolivians, in the middle of a two week fiesta, decided to finish their festivities before going out to defend the outlying territory.

Parliament Building

La Paz is the seat of government for Bolivia and the parliament building is lavish compared too much of La Paz.  We weren't told whether coca is drank in there, but it is so much a part of Bolivian culture, I'd expect it to be.