1. We, miraculously, get moving early and though we see a few boats passing homeward before us (which sparks a parody of “Follow the Yellow Brick Road”), the route is a lot quieter than we expected. It makes a last relaxing journey and the mooring – stern-on, in a cramped space – isn’t as bad as either of us feared. We’re glad not to end the holiday on a bad note.

1b. The diesel cost about half as much as I expected. I get a hefty amount of my deposit back – it feels like free money.

2. We laugh at how fast we’re travelling, how much quicker we’re covering ground than we covered water. We return to the fab little post office/coffee shop/convenience store we found on Sunday – it would have taken about four hours in the boat but takes about 20 minutes in the car – and have tea, coffee and freshly baked cakes to ready ourselves for the journey ahead.

2b. We stop for lunch in Sleaford. I greatly enjoy the road where every house as a footbridge across a deep stream to their front doors.

3. My first port of call is the chickens – just in case I miscalculated their food reserves (I didn’t) – but I collect two cats along the way: Kaufman eyes me suspuciously from under the gate, then when he sees it’s me, he comes running & meowing, then Tilda finds me at the coop. Strange is waiting in the house and seems underwhelmed at first – then it seems to dawn on her that we’re back and she sits in the middle of the dining room and meows loudly until she becomes the centre of our attention. She doesn’t leave my side for the rest of the evening.

3b. A week without a lot of stroking, the cats shed their fur like crazy whenever we touch them. By the end of the night, we’re both covered in fluff.

1. I want to touch a bullrush – an almost compulsive desire – but they’re too far into the lake on the other side of the bank. Next time.

1b. Good smoky bacon.

1c. A bow-wow: the same springer we saw in Acle yesterday is still super excited about being on a boat.

2. The river Ant seemed so wide the other day but after being on the Bure and the Thurne, it feels narrow and hemmed in. It’s still beautiful though.

2b. There’s more at Ludham Bridge than we thought there would be. We have warm scones with clotted cream at the cafe and I pick up some ideas from the art shop: raku birds and animals, and bold acrylic paintings on burlap sacking.

2c. The Hall and tower at How Hill from the opposite direction: it looks majestic on the hill.

3. We spot some people wild mooring – using trees rather than rhond anchors. We’re tempted by spots close to Irstead but crack on, thinking we can turn around if needs be – then find the perfect spot just at the edge of Barton Broad: wooded banks opening out on the lake – just beautiful.

3b. I walk as far as I can along the marshy bank. There is a surprisingly number of seashells on the river bank. I collect some to show John.

3c. The binoculars often make me laugh when I realise how far away I’m looking.

3d. Tetris-style packing up.

3e. The sun comes out when I step outside. A solo rower glides from the wide broad into the river. Thanks to a mirror on a stick on his bow, he can position himself impressively perfectly in the middle of the water.

3f. The people mudweighting in the broad move on and our view becomes boat free – human free – again.

3g. Lots of little fish jumping up at duck. I spot five or six at once.

0. This happened a few times – from the first hour we were on the boat to nearly the last, but I record it today – walking towards the back of the boat while it’s moving: feeling like I’m floating, hanging in one spot in space.

1. John does his physical daily exercises while I do my mental ones.

1b. We bob down Fleet Dyke to check out the mooring possibilities. More excitingly, we see two men gathering reeds for thatching. Back on the Bure, a little red hut with black dead trees behind it. Two mills with white sails perfectly composed up the Thurne towards Ludham. A man cutting the lawn at Tall Mill. The dalek mill beyond.

1c. 6mph! #needforspeed

1d. The wind catches the water but only on one side – the rest is smooth. The divide looks like clasped weft weaving.

1e. A perfect bit of mooring – except for when I tumble over a molehill and go over my ankle. So ‘a perfect bit of mooring while hopping’ would be a better way to describe it.

2. The lunch is mostly flavoured with sugar and vinegar but that’s not entirely a complaint.

2b. A nose sticks out of a doghouse. I stand back rather than immediately approach and she comes to me. She accepts a tickle then flops in the cool shade. Later, we have our ice creams, she sits with us and accepts our dog-starved attention.

3. It’s so warm that we crank back the canopy. John takes over driving and demands I serenade him while he “works”. I sing to him the silly song I’ve had in my head since we passed Upton Dyke – a parody of ‘Uptown Girl’ about the difficulty of navigating such a narrow river passage.

3b. I start dancing – the smooth wooden floor makes it fun – then realise I should put some music on. The Shee – traditional Scottish & English folk music – is a perfect accompaniment as we cruise down the sunny river.

4. Back to St Benet’s for a second night. We read in the sunshine then John plays the guitar just for me. An upside down swan seems to defy gravity and a white duck has a perfect Donald Duck curl to its tail.

4b. There aren’t as many birds around tonight but the stars are bright and there’s some mysterious rustling on the grasses in the bank. On the other side, a bird or bug lets out a constant rattle.

4c. I doubt the sunset will be as pretty as the previous night because the sky is featureless as the sun dips – but then red stained clouds slowly appear.

4d. I somehow win a round of Ricochet Robots with a 17 move gambit (even though there is a 7 mover available).

4e. I finish my next book. It absorbs me without scaring me. So a good book.

1. A grove of trees – such a pretty route to the bins.

1b. It’s still fairly early (for us!) but warm enough that I have to shed my hoodie for my water-filling chores.

2. The river is much quieter as we go through Horning than it was on our journey to Salhouse on Sunday.

2b. We think we’ve “fixed” the problem with our boat but it recurs. We have to double back to Horning to await the engineer – we have to sit in a riverside pub garden in the sunshine, eating sausage rolls and drinking local beer. Such a hardship.

2c. We watch a dredger at work – impressive to have such massive machinery working on floating rafts.

3. The moorings at St Benet’s Abbey are fairly quiet. People come and go all day but it’s never busy, and when night falls, all the boats are pleasantly separated.

3b. What I thought was the Abbey is actually the gatehouse – with a mill built around its old walls. It’s much more interesting than the actual abbey – which is just structureless mounds of stones – and we both gasp as we walk inside the tower of bricks.

3c. The smoothness of the stones. More old graffiti.

3d. Sunbathing and reading on the bow again. A goose watches me eat my biscuits, cocking its head every time I take a bite.

3e. I cook a risotto. With dull knives and a glass chopping board – and a strange cooker and lack of utensils – I have to stay more focused than I do at home. It works out well.

4. The unusual shape of a bird catches my eye – it turns out to be a barn owl hunting its supper. We watch it swoop over the fields and it leads us to spotting deer, birds fighting in flight and other tiny birds catching flies.

4b. We’re watching for fish bobbing up for insects and both stare agog – then laugh – when a grebe appears from nowhere.

4c. A lovely sunset in a perfect place/position.

4d. A yellow wagtail hangs out with a group of pied ones – sometime in the last week we became birdspotters.

4e. I think I’ve lost the game but actually one neat move lets me win.