Deary, deary me.

For 25 years I have suppressed my memories of a traumatic experience. At Norbury Junction I accidentally triggered recollection.

I drank a pint of Banks's bitter.

What made it worse was the narrowboat traffic on the Shroppie North of the junction: not the quantity, but the behaviour. Just one (or two) is all it takes to cause trouble for countless other boaters and waterways staff.

I'm not sure I believe the rumours of the drained pound, but joining the queue of boats backing up behind a Tickover Trawler who then slams locks shut in the face of oncoming boaters places you in the middle of a world of disgruntled holidaymakers. It's a shame people have to behave so badly, but the only sensible response is to rise above it and ensure that it doesn't ruin your day, too.

The only cure for exposure to this sort of bad behaviour is provided by the excellent staff of the Shroppie Fly at Audlem. A few pints of Pedigree, good food, ice-cream and a thrashing at chess later, and all was well again.