Blonde's Eye View: Boat life

According to the omniscient Wikipedia, there are 15,000 people that live on river and canal boats in the UK.

A handful of those are sprinkled like bath toys over the Docklands.

People are swayed by romantic notions of alternative lifestyles, seeking solace in the belief they could leave the rat race at a moment's notice, sailing off into the sunset at four miles per hour.

Personally I can't get past the chemical toilet.

I've come across a few boat dwellers in my time. Interestingly, they were all men.

I guess there is limited wardrobe space on a narrow boat.

Despite the obvious shortcomings of living in an upturned crate, protected from the freezing Thames by only a thin layer of MDF, they swear it is an enjoyable existence.

The artistic nomadic air it gives them apparently attracts the ladies.

I will admit canal boat dwelling does conjure images of toned men in open shirts operating locks, chewing bits of grass, strumming guitars, and staring at the stars.

That's why it's so incongruous to see a suited Wharf worker clambering from a Romany style houseboat.

This is not Amsterdam, we have enough high rise tower blocks to go round.

One friend lived happily for years aboard his houseboat, rising above the objections of the sane, warm, land lovers.

When bringing an overnight visitor breakfast in bed after his houseboat had worked its usual charm, he opened the curtains to let the full effect of sunrise over the dock shine in.

Unfortunately, on this occasion, bobbing outside his window was the swollen body of a drowned man.

That rather killed the magic.

He moved out within a month.