An alternative to high housing prices: Getting drunk and buying a Canal Boat
Created | Updated Jan 28, 2002
If one lives near London, even as far as an hour to the North, one is going to run smack dab into some of the most grossly inflated housing prices known to man. Quite unaffordable to newlyweds, graduates and minor royalty. This, however, did not stop my husband and I from achieving residency in the Aylesbury Vale, no more than 5 minutes from the nearest mainline station and no more than 30 from Heathrow. How did we do it?
We got absolutely bladdered and went out the next morning to buy a canal boat. The getting bladdered bit doesn't really need much exposition. We went to a birthday party at a canalside pub and were plied with many beverages of revelry by a family friend who has become a bit notorious for getting you incapable while he himself appears to remain jovially sober. It was only then that I ventured aboard an English narrowboat for the first time and for some reason, I was completely charmed.
"Thish is...reeeeally nice. I wanna live on a boat toooo." I slurred to my husband. Or, two of him, anyway.
"Thas funny." he said to me, "I've always wanted to lived onna canal boat. You sherious?"
"Mmmhmmm." I replied, falling simulteneously ashore and asleep.
Strangely, the next morning, we found ourselves at a marina exploring a boat called The Gloucester which happened to be for sale. Even more strangely, we found ourselves on it again half an hour later with our in-laws, talking about the possibility of a marine mortgage. 30k was a doddle compared to the 130k that any two bedrooms in our area cost, so, about 2 months later, we found ourselves living aboard.
There are quite a few things to get used to as far as living aboard a canal boat is concerned, although a lot of them are very much the same as with any accomidation, minus the possibility of sinking. Although I would recommend living on the canals to anyone, expecially those starting out on their own, there are a few things to be considered.
Furniture: Immovable. Mostly bolted to the wall. If the boat you've selected is ex-hire, a good portion of it will be devoted to immovable furniture. This makes DIY VERY difficult and may lead to slightly more creative thought in the decorating department.
The Toilet: Most of us are content to use the toilet but are quite happy not knowing how it works. On a boat, you will be under NO misconceptions of how a toilet works or where anything goes. In fact, in many marine toilets, you only have to push a little pedal to see sights that most people would be uncomfortable talking about in polite company. We have a toilet that needs to be emptied via the "chuckle pump" (a pulsating snake of a hose that leads into an anonymous looking cement bay on top of what must be the excratory chamber of horrors) every 2 weeks. Beware of the ELSAN toilet. It has to be carried manually to a disposal point. Slightly cheaper than the pump out, but just don't trip.
The Kitchen: If you are a budding culinary genius, the canal kitchen is perhaps not for you. It is quite restrictive with very little counter space. Newer boats that I've seen have been fitted out with glorious kitchens that somehow make perfect use of the boat's traditional shape, but in general, you will find yourself in an eternal struggle to find room on the counter for a mixing bowl and the soy sauce at the same time.
Mooring: I have to say that I don't know much about comparison shopping, but any permanant mooring with electricity, water and services remotely near London is going to come at a premium. Quite frankly, it's probably the most difficult thing about owning a boat in this area of the country.
Despite the little life changes that you have to make to renounce your landlubbing ways, I can tell you there are few lovlier ways to wake up than to the quiet dabbling of ducks outside the window and a willow tree throwing it's shadows over your bedspread. I would recommend it to anyone looking for a way to housing independance.
We got absolutely bladdered and went out the next morning to buy a canal boat. The getting bladdered bit doesn't really need much exposition. We went to a birthday party at a canalside pub and were plied with many beverages of revelry by a family friend who has become a bit notorious for getting you incapable while he himself appears to remain jovially sober. It was only then that I ventured aboard an English narrowboat for the first time and for some reason, I was completely charmed.
"Thish is...reeeeally nice. I wanna live on a boat toooo." I slurred to my husband. Or, two of him, anyway.
"Thas funny." he said to me, "I've always wanted to lived onna canal boat. You sherious?"
"Mmmhmmm." I replied, falling simulteneously ashore and asleep.
Strangely, the next morning, we found ourselves at a marina exploring a boat called The Gloucester which happened to be for sale. Even more strangely, we found ourselves on it again half an hour later with our in-laws, talking about the possibility of a marine mortgage. 30k was a doddle compared to the 130k that any two bedrooms in our area cost, so, about 2 months later, we found ourselves living aboard.
There are quite a few things to get used to as far as living aboard a canal boat is concerned, although a lot of them are very much the same as with any accomidation, minus the possibility of sinking. Although I would recommend living on the canals to anyone, expecially those starting out on their own, there are a few things to be considered.
Furniture: Immovable. Mostly bolted to the wall. If the boat you've selected is ex-hire, a good portion of it will be devoted to immovable furniture. This makes DIY VERY difficult and may lead to slightly more creative thought in the decorating department.
The Toilet: Most of us are content to use the toilet but are quite happy not knowing how it works. On a boat, you will be under NO misconceptions of how a toilet works or where anything goes. In fact, in many marine toilets, you only have to push a little pedal to see sights that most people would be uncomfortable talking about in polite company. We have a toilet that needs to be emptied via the "chuckle pump" (a pulsating snake of a hose that leads into an anonymous looking cement bay on top of what must be the excratory chamber of horrors) every 2 weeks. Beware of the ELSAN toilet. It has to be carried manually to a disposal point. Slightly cheaper than the pump out, but just don't trip.
The Kitchen: If you are a budding culinary genius, the canal kitchen is perhaps not for you. It is quite restrictive with very little counter space. Newer boats that I've seen have been fitted out with glorious kitchens that somehow make perfect use of the boat's traditional shape, but in general, you will find yourself in an eternal struggle to find room on the counter for a mixing bowl and the soy sauce at the same time.
Mooring: I have to say that I don't know much about comparison shopping, but any permanant mooring with electricity, water and services remotely near London is going to come at a premium. Quite frankly, it's probably the most difficult thing about owning a boat in this area of the country.
Despite the little life changes that you have to make to renounce your landlubbing ways, I can tell you there are few lovlier ways to wake up than to the quiet dabbling of ducks outside the window and a willow tree throwing it's shadows over your bedspread. I would recommend it to anyone looking for a way to housing independance.
