Worcester

Worcester charge you for parking / mooring. In a car, you expect it. On a boat, you get to take free mooring for granted – and that's what we had last night at the Hampstall Inn. So it was a shock to the system to have to fork out to tie up against a concrete slab: NB Più Lento in the foreground, Erin Mae nearest the railway bridge.

Mind you, it was only four quid a night, and the lad who came round collecting was very good-natured and polite, and he volunteered to take away our rubbish! So can't complain.

It had been a dull day. Cold enough as we travelled down the river's broad reaches at 9 o'clock for a body warmer and gloves.

There was hardly any traffic as we came through the two locks – just these travellers in line astern.

It was good to see the city finally appearing, and to find that mooring space was not a problem. The cathedral, in its riverside setting, looks pretty imposing even without the sun.

So we went to pay our respects to Edward Elgar, bad King John and good saints Oswald and Wulstan, and to marvel again at the architects' use of space and light, form and pattern.

The city centre itself seemed a little strange. It has its quota of interesting buildings but, for me, little sense of coherence, with the usual high street occupants determined to swamp any historical feeling, aided and abetted by the ever-present traffic. We were a little tired to go exploring far, so perhaps we just didn't get to the right places.

Nicholson's says the view from the cathedral gardens out towards the Malverns is "a particularly fine sight at sunset." The afternoon sun has appeared in fits and starts, a little like the young people from the Royal Grammar School and the rowing clubs, following their coaches' instructions as best they could.

Perhaps later we'll stroll back to the cathedral and see whether the Malverns and the setting sun have deigned to get together for an evening performance.