Today was the day to head along to the local marina and use the facilities, to pump out the toilet and fill up the water tank.
This stretch of the canal is often known as the 'Nile' due to all the high hills from the quarrying.
Like the canals, there is real beauty in the man-made.
We passed this old telegraph pole, from the 50's, the wood weathered it's no longer in use.
The sun was beaming down along the canal and with a shimmer of fog the atmosphere was magical.
Unfortunately as we left the marina towards Nuneaton for the winding hole the litter of the town took over any visual beauty. We did a quick about turn and set off again back to homely Hartshill. Delia took the seat in the window, taking in as much scent and wildlife as she could.
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