Why narrowboating is the perfect socially distanced UK break

We’re approaching our first lock with a sense of rising panic – the only available mooring space requires my husband to perform a parallel park manoeuvre so tight it would be tricky in a car, let alone a narrowboat. And I’m about to find out how effective YouTube is as a teacher for using a windlass to open a gate paddle. Or am I meant to be shutting it? I’ve no idea.

To add to the chaos, our boys, aged seven and 10, are hyper and shouty, itching to leap onto the bank with no regard for their own safety.

We’re in Bradford-on-Avon, a pretty town with striking Georgian architecture on the Kennet and Avon Canal. This was supposed to be a relaxing trip, a chance to ease frayed lockdown nerves, but so far it feels anything but. And we’re only 20 minutes into our journey.

But then a pristine narrowboat with shiny brass portholes and a paint job that looks pure Farrow & Ball pulls up alongside us.

“Do you want to come through with us?” the cheery woman on deck says. “I can help you with the lock.”

While we get to work, she tells me that she and her husband retired at the start of the year and decided to sell their house and buy a narrowboat instead. They started in Cambridge and have been travelling around the country’s inland waterways ever since.

“That must have been a challenge,” I say, “Given the pandemic…”

“Not really,” she replies breezily. “In many ways it’s felt like the perfect place to be. It’s easy to social distance but you’re also part of a community.”

I can already see what she means. Even though she is clearly a lock pro who doesn’t need assistance, another family walking past has stopped for a chat and to push the gates with us. It’s all very chilled and friendly.

After passing through the lock without incident, we moor up for the night – travelling after 8pm is discouraged – before walking back along the tow path to the very lock we’ve just travelled through for dinner. Right next to it is Lock Inn, a good family pub with plenty of outdoor seating facing the canal, where a round of burgers makes up the first meal on our adventure.

The next morning, we send the boys off to play on a rope swing they’d spotted the night before while we begin our journey westwards in earnest.

open image in gallery

On a four-day break like ours, you can get from Bradford-on-Avon to Bath and back. It’s only around 10 miles in distance, but narrowboats can only travel at 4mph, so it takes a while to get anywhere.

But the speed, or lack thereof, is its very charm. The kids can walk alongside us on the tow path for stretches, a freeing experience for them after a cooped-up lockdown, and it forces us to slow down and do nothing except taking turns to drive the boat and tune into the wonderful nature that surrounds us.

The banks are teeming with life, from purple teasels and loosestrife to neon blue dragonflies, herons and swans. We see plenty of ducklings, which the boys fed bread to with an enthusiasm I haven’t seen since they were toddlers, and pass overhanging hawthorn and blackberry bushes, their fruit always just out of reach. The pace and boat-based perspective makes it feel like we’re in a remote wilderness, even though we’re rarely more than a mile from civilisation, not to mention passing other narrowboats all the time.

We met a mix of holidaymakers like us, more retired couples, including ones who’d painted “Steve and Diane: A New Dawn” on the side of their boat, alongside steampunk-style junk collectors, canal lifers and families looking for a different path. All as chatty as the next.

open image in gallery

There were some tricky sections, including the stunning but narrow limestone aqueducts at Avoncliff and Dundas, which took some manoeuvring, and we had to navigate some swing bridges and, once we reached Bath, more locks. But the fact that no one on the canal was ever in a hurry stopped it from ever becoming as stressful as I’d feared it would be heading into that first lock.

We brought bikes along – stored on the roof of the boat – to offset the sedateness and burn off the kids’ energy. Having bikes also meant we didn’t need to jostle for a mooring space near pubs, such as the popular Cross Guns at Avoncliff or the George Inn at Bathampton, as we could just moor elsewhere and ride there. Plus, the canal tow path, which is part of the National Cycle Network, is lovely to ride along. It’s well-maintained and wide enough to accommodate cyclists and walkers.

We used the bikes for an afternoon of sightseeing in Bath, though riding around a city felt hectic after the tranquillity of the canal, especially as many of the bike paths weren’t protected from the traffic. We rushed back to our idyll that night and sat watching the stars on deck until our eyes began to close.

People’s desire to head to the coast, to reach the outer edges of the country this summer of all summers, is entirely understandable, but I’m glad we opted to explore the less well-known waterways of its interior instead.

Sally Narrowboats runs four-day breaks for four people from £773.