Unfortunately, unlike the canal, this blog cannot be endless.
For one, as I have made abundantly clear over the past few months, I have many problems with living on a boat.
The toilets are just horrendous; electricity and internet are sparse at best; sometimes I have to fight away wild animals. So, although these waters have been my home for 23 years now, I have no intention of staying on them forever.
Secondly, I have plans which involve travelling around North America for a bit, because I’ve read too much Jack Kerouac. I predict that keeping up a regular and well-written blog might become a bit tricky when I’m hopping from state to state and living in a hostel dorm room.
So I’m afraid, readers (I’m hoping I’m correct in using the plural there), that this blog is coming to an end. I can only hope that I have given you some insight into the life of a boater, with all its ups and downs.
This definitely isn’t the easiest lifestyle choice in the world; anyone who enjoys regular baths and has a fear of spiders should probably stay well away. But for those brave enough to give it a try, it can be immensely rewarding.
I do plan on moving on to land when I come back to England, but it will be with a pang in my heart. I’ll miss waking up on a summer’s day, throwing the doors open and drinking coffee whilst the swans float past and the sunlight glints on the water.
I’ll miss the sense of community, where people aren’t just faceless neighbours but friends and comrades. I’ll miss the cosy back cabins, the smell of a wood fire, even the subtle sense of pride I get from taking apart a generator in the pouring rain.
Thank you for reading this far and for letting me share all the weird and wonderful facets of my life. At the very least, if you do ever take up life on a boat, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.