Having spent nearly a fortnight in what is, even by canal standards, the urban hustle and bustle that is Rugby, I made a point of stopping just short of the first signs of human habitation on the outskirts of Braunston, which turned out to be one of my better decisions. Although this means I have a walk of at least a mile each way to reach any kind of civilisation at all, the reward for me is the most delightful mooring I could wish for. I have yet to take a picture that does justice to it.
For me, what makes this place so special is the seemingly haphazard arrangement of the fields and hedges, giving the impression of an almost total absence of human intervention, as if the entire landscape has been created solely for the benefit of its inhabitants. I am lucky to be able to choose this for a home as I pass through; I can imagine no greater luxury.
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