At Vienne Alex asked the man at the bike shop, where he was buying a new brake cable, ‘How do I get up to the ancient chateau on the hill?’ ‘Oh’ he replied, ‘Right at the roundabout, then next right at the hospital and up you go.’ So Alex set off and 40 minutes later he had reached the end of the road at a large hospital – but nowhere near the chateau, so it was back down the hill – only 5 minutes to get down, and back to the McDonald’s where Louise was still trying – unsuccessfully - to get all her emails answered. The link had just irredeemably failed!
We both gave up and went back to supper on Riccall.
The following day we discovered that the château on the hill was in private ownership and not possible to visit anyway! But the Roman amphitheatre was spectacular (though it had been renovated in the 1940s) and the views from the church on the adjacent hill were impressive. The Saturday market spread through most of the town (the 2nd largest in France apparently) and was well worth a couple of hours perusal as was the Saint Maurice Cathedral with its spectacular entrance stonework.
We left next morning at about 8.30 and ended that day’s cruise moored up on a high ex-sand quay with slipway adjacent down into the water. This turned out to be an excellent mooring for us, despite the ever present fishermen, and at about 6.40pm we were joined by VAGABOND a Swedish sailing boat with Lars and Ingrid on board who we invited to moor on us.
Next day the couple of provisional moorings we had in mind were either full or impossible, and so we eventually came upon a Port de Commerce quay, and after a very quick late lunch, Louise went off to ask the Chef du Port if we could stay the night. ‘Oui’, he said, ‘pour un nuit’. But later in the evening, long after he and the other workers had left, and 10 minutes before our supper was ready, ARTEMIS – 110m x 10m – arrived to moor up behind us. Blimy! Are we OK? Do we need to move? Or what?
Alex went up to ask. ‘Well, we are going to load up in the morning at 7am and will need to move forward into your position, so it might be better if you moved behind us now’. ‘OK, OK anything you want. We know this is a commercial quay and we are just so grateful for somewhere to spend the night’. So a quick manoeuvre to moor behind with their Polish crewmen helping with our ropes and all is well again – we hope! But we are now right under the sign that says ‘Port de Commerce. Stopping forbidden. All pleasure boats to go 3 kms up the river to the Port de Plaisance’. Funny though, but having the agreement of the ’Chef du Port’ gives one a certain confidence . . .!
The following day while waiting for a huge commercial to come out of a lock, we realised it was one we had seen a couple of times before and the captain actually came out of his wheelhouse to give us an enthusiastic wave of greeting as he went past. How nice!
That evening we moored up behind GERMINAL (a boat we had met in a lock) on a hugely high quay (about 6m to the top). The ‘girls’ did the climbing up the vertiginous ladders to place all the ropes while the men manoeuvred the boats into place against a strong current, but although it was a very high quay indeed and not usually recommended, it gave us a reasonable night.
We set off first thing in the morning and later moored as arranged on a rather lightweight pontoon at St Etienne des Sorts early that afternoon with GERMINAL alongside. Not a marvellous stop, but the village did have a good wine co-op and a wonderful, close view of passing TGV (high speed) trains! Later, a Canadian sailing boat, which we had also seen a number of times, called DO-LITTLES, insisted on trying to moor on the last 5ft of the pontoon. Alex moved Riccall a few feet off the end of the pontoon to give them some more room and they squeezed in with a tangle of ropes and a loud American-sounding woman barking instructions, all above the background barking of 3 dogs and shouting of 3 other people! A small boat, four people, 3 huge dogs – Phew! Alex joked with Rose-marie of GERMINAL that he was glad we were upwind of their boat! They were desperate to moor there, and it became evident why - to take on crates of wine from the co-operative, which were delivered by van.
So after another uncomfortable night with hotel barges and large commercials passing at irregular intervals, we decided that day to turn up an arm of the old Rhone, which ended in a couple of commercial quays and a Port de Plaisance ‘Port 2’ to see if the mooring up there in the protected ‘dead-end’ might give us a quiet night.
The current against us up the 6 km of the old arm was amazingly high – about 4-5 kph. This meant we were only making 5.5 – 6 kph ourselves, but eventually we got there and booked a night’s mooring at €24 including wi-fi, water and electricity – not too bad for hereabouts! The capitaine-ess explained that the river level had been up by nearly one metre that morning and the powers that be were draining it all off through the weirs, which was why the current was so strong. So we settled down for a peaceful night - no motorway, no trains, nearby factory closed down at 9.30 – bliss. Then at 4 o’clock in the morning the heavens opened. The rain lashed down – we both shot up to ensure that all portholes and roof openings were firmly closed, and then the sheet lightning lit the sky above our heads in a continual series of flashes, with an almost continuous rumble and crash of thunder to go with them. Then suddenly, Alex, who was up in the wheelhouse marvelling at all this, saw a single spear of lightning about 1000ft high strike behind the trees on the opposite bank with simultaneously the most incredible clap of thunder. What a show of energy! So much for a peaceful night.
Avignon is another port up an old arm of the river and they were still running off excess water so our trip up it next day was very slow, not made any easier by firstly a trip boat racing down river just as we made our turn and giving us more rock and roll than we had had on the sea crossing (everything flying everywhere) and secondly a hotel cruise ship which pulled out behind us and harried us towards the remains of the Pont d’Avignon, of children’s song fame. We were nearly flat out and only making 3kph against the flow. Well, he just had to follow in our slow wake! and as it transpired he was going only as far as the famous bridge so that his passengers could have a bird’s eye view of it for their photographs before he turned round!
Here at Avignon the sound of the road right next to the expensive mooring means we shall only stay one or two nights. Amazingly, there are five other boats here which we either know well or have exchanged pleasantries with!
We have also discovered that Ken and Rhonda of SOMEWHERE (now off the Canal du Midi and onto the Canal Lateral de la Garonne beyond Toulouse) have been following our progress down the Rhone on a website called www.inforhone.fr. Each lock logs the names and times of passing of all the boats going up and down the Rhone (commercial and plaisance). This information is open to anyone who looks at the site. So Ken and Rhonda know pretty well to the nearest lock where we are in real time. The powers of the internet!
Friday 27 August 2010
Thursday 19 August 2010
Macon - Lyon - Vienne
We left Macon, still on the River Saône, not knowing exactly what the scene was with John and Martha and arrived at Port de Belleville where we hailed one of the English boats on the pontoon. Vic told us he was leaving within the hour, so we hung onto some hotel barge Duc D’Albes (huge mooring piles) until he did, then snuck in to the space provided.
We did a quick suss of the town, found the McDonalds with free wifi and thereafter posted the blog. The link was so slow it took 2 hours to upload the photos – what we do for you readers!
We decided that the mooring, safe, free, and with water and electricity, would be a good place to leave the boat while we caught the train into Lyon for a bit of sightseeing and to look at the mooring possibilities. Occasionally, our mooring guides are somewhat confusing and a proper look-see seems the best way to proceed.
We also decided it would be a good idea to take our bikes!
The ticket office cashier said the bikes go free, and we even got a reduction ‘pour le vieux homme’ – Alex who could prove he was over – shush!! 60! The ticket man assured us that there was no problem with bikes on the train and as it turned out, the door by which we boarded the train had a bicycle (or velo as they call them now) logo on it and with a lot of huffing and puffing, we managed to get the bikes on board and hung by the front wheels to the ceiling hooks.
Getting off at Lyon was more of a problem as lots of people were getting off at this stop and a full contingent of passengers were waiting to board for their onward travel to Grenoble. But we managed and got ourselves out of the huge and heavily crowded station to look for a Tourist Information Office or at least a town map showing where we were. No luck in either department, so while Alex watched the bikes next to a local map showing the nearest 100 metres of streets, Louise returned to the station where she found a station assistant who could manage a bit of English. This didn’t help in fact, as she had no idea of even which direction the city centre was in. Can you believe it? (Her best suggestion was that we take a further train from this outlying station – Part-Dieu – to the city centre station - Perrache.)
While he was there an American sounding couple consulted the map to try to find their hotel. They had no luck either, and so we all four consulted to find a way forward. The couple said (when asked) that yes, indeed, they were American but sometimes they pretended to be Canadian, depending on where they were and who they were talking to! We let you draw your own conclusions to that; but we think that maybe, at last, some Americans are realising that they might not be as popular as they had always imagined themselves to be.
We eventually found the Tourist Information Centre (no thanks to the station staff) got a map and were advised that the old quarter was the best part to visit. This we did, then Alex was approached by an enthusiastic operative who showed him how to get tickets for the funicular railway up to the basilica overlooking the town and said yes we could take the bikes and we could later ride down by the footpath. Load of rubbish! Louise nearly demolished a young family on the escalator as her bike slid back down into them, the carriage of the funicular was far too small for large bikes like ours but fortunately was nearly empty, and the ‘footpath’ back banned rollerblades, skateboards and bikes and had steps on it! However, at least the basilica was amazing and the road down was OK.
We returned to the station and spent our time waiting for the train to arrive by worrying if the incoming train would deposit a ‘velo’ carriage near where we were standing. By this time, we had realised that we had been really lucky coming into town as there only seem to be a very few carriages with bicycle facilities. As it turned out, we were standing right opposite the 1st class carriage when the train stopped and it did have a velo sign on the door. So we hopped on, loaded the bikes into the rack and dashed off into the 2nd class carriage to find a seat for the return journey! (Easy! No-one else travelling 1st class.)
We are now at the moorings at Lyon which are a bit busy with trip boats, water taxis, hotel cruise ships etc but having moved to a new position all is well. (We discovered after mooring up in the first position, that there was an underwater shelf 900 mm below the water which stuck out 500mm from the quay, just waiting to punch a hole in our turn of the bilge if a large boat went past.)
So, satisfied that the boat was now on much safer moorings, we did the usual stock up of items from Lidl and then had lunchtime drinks with a very nice English couple, Nick and Gail, on MAGELLAN, just prior to their setting off south. NOORDSTER pulled in during our chat – and we haven’t seen Judith and Simon since we all set off three years ago from Goole! We warned them about the underwater cill and they too moved to a safer spot. So then we were free for the remainder of the day. What to do?
Alex pulled out all the maps we had and said ‘Look! I don’t think it’s too far to Aldi after all’. We already had the address and had asked in the T.I.O. just where it was. The assistant there had been appalled that we thought we might go by bicycle and was unprepared to give us any info to help.
So we set off on the scenic route – at first along the river bank road which turned out to have been blocked by a mini avalanche which had landed slap bang on top of an unsuspecting car, now a completely flattened wreck – judging by the lack of blood we assumed there had been nobody in it and later learned it had occurred at 2.00am – phew!
So we climbed the bikes over the barriers and proceeded on our way. At least there was almost no traffic!
Eventually we got to the Saone/Rhone junction and started on our way to Aldi – up and up, and up and then some more up and up . . . At long last and at altitude of about 2000ft (!), having asked directions from 6 different people, we found the Aldi store. Now although the principle aims were cashew nuts and tonic, Alex did have another agenda. He had in mind that a replacement camera now being imperative, Aldi was without doubt the cheapest place to get one in France, prices being what they are here. And sure enough, there was a choice of 5 different cameras reduced to under €50. And the assistant was an Anglophile! – loves England and spoke excellent English. She was happy to help us choose the best value for money camera. Magic!!
So after a short up-and-up bit, it was down, down, down, back into Lyon and our moorings. The whole journey only took three hours (and about 5000 calories) – a mere nothing! And you should see our leg muscles!
We set off from Lyon, taking on fuel at one of the very few bunker barges in France on the way, and joined the mighty Rhone: wide river, variable flow, not much traffic (yet) and beautiful panoramic views!
After 3 to 4 hours, we arrived at Vienne: plenty of space to moor and a town with interesting heritage. We had only planned to spend one night here but immediately felt so beguiled that we decided to make it two. The Roman amphitheatre beckons, as does the ancient castle on the highest point of the hill. Alex has already made one unsuccessful foray in that direction – courtesy of misdirection by the bike shop proprietor, so another try tomorrow.
PS Latest news!!!! Have finally found out that John and Martha’s car blew a heater hose on the motorway and had to be towed off! Car not repaired until mid week but are enjoying their stay in Cap d’Antibes anyway. Phew!
We did a quick suss of the town, found the McDonalds with free wifi and thereafter posted the blog. The link was so slow it took 2 hours to upload the photos – what we do for you readers!
We decided that the mooring, safe, free, and with water and electricity, would be a good place to leave the boat while we caught the train into Lyon for a bit of sightseeing and to look at the mooring possibilities. Occasionally, our mooring guides are somewhat confusing and a proper look-see seems the best way to proceed.
We also decided it would be a good idea to take our bikes!
The ticket office cashier said the bikes go free, and we even got a reduction ‘pour le vieux homme’ – Alex who could prove he was over – shush!! 60! The ticket man assured us that there was no problem with bikes on the train and as it turned out, the door by which we boarded the train had a bicycle (or velo as they call them now) logo on it and with a lot of huffing and puffing, we managed to get the bikes on board and hung by the front wheels to the ceiling hooks.
Getting off at Lyon was more of a problem as lots of people were getting off at this stop and a full contingent of passengers were waiting to board for their onward travel to Grenoble. But we managed and got ourselves out of the huge and heavily crowded station to look for a Tourist Information Office or at least a town map showing where we were. No luck in either department, so while Alex watched the bikes next to a local map showing the nearest 100 metres of streets, Louise returned to the station where she found a station assistant who could manage a bit of English. This didn’t help in fact, as she had no idea of even which direction the city centre was in. Can you believe it? (Her best suggestion was that we take a further train from this outlying station – Part-Dieu – to the city centre station - Perrache.)
While he was there an American sounding couple consulted the map to try to find their hotel. They had no luck either, and so we all four consulted to find a way forward. The couple said (when asked) that yes, indeed, they were American but sometimes they pretended to be Canadian, depending on where they were and who they were talking to! We let you draw your own conclusions to that; but we think that maybe, at last, some Americans are realising that they might not be as popular as they had always imagined themselves to be.
We eventually found the Tourist Information Centre (no thanks to the station staff) got a map and were advised that the old quarter was the best part to visit. This we did, then Alex was approached by an enthusiastic operative who showed him how to get tickets for the funicular railway up to the basilica overlooking the town and said yes we could take the bikes and we could later ride down by the footpath. Load of rubbish! Louise nearly demolished a young family on the escalator as her bike slid back down into them, the carriage of the funicular was far too small for large bikes like ours but fortunately was nearly empty, and the ‘footpath’ back banned rollerblades, skateboards and bikes and had steps on it! However, at least the basilica was amazing and the road down was OK.
We returned to the station and spent our time waiting for the train to arrive by worrying if the incoming train would deposit a ‘velo’ carriage near where we were standing. By this time, we had realised that we had been really lucky coming into town as there only seem to be a very few carriages with bicycle facilities. As it turned out, we were standing right opposite the 1st class carriage when the train stopped and it did have a velo sign on the door. So we hopped on, loaded the bikes into the rack and dashed off into the 2nd class carriage to find a seat for the return journey! (Easy! No-one else travelling 1st class.)
We are now at the moorings at Lyon which are a bit busy with trip boats, water taxis, hotel cruise ships etc but having moved to a new position all is well. (We discovered after mooring up in the first position, that there was an underwater shelf 900 mm below the water which stuck out 500mm from the quay, just waiting to punch a hole in our turn of the bilge if a large boat went past.)
So, satisfied that the boat was now on much safer moorings, we did the usual stock up of items from Lidl and then had lunchtime drinks with a very nice English couple, Nick and Gail, on MAGELLAN, just prior to their setting off south. NOORDSTER pulled in during our chat – and we haven’t seen Judith and Simon since we all set off three years ago from Goole! We warned them about the underwater cill and they too moved to a safer spot. So then we were free for the remainder of the day. What to do?
Alex pulled out all the maps we had and said ‘Look! I don’t think it’s too far to Aldi after all’. We already had the address and had asked in the T.I.O. just where it was. The assistant there had been appalled that we thought we might go by bicycle and was unprepared to give us any info to help.
So we set off on the scenic route – at first along the river bank road which turned out to have been blocked by a mini avalanche which had landed slap bang on top of an unsuspecting car, now a completely flattened wreck – judging by the lack of blood we assumed there had been nobody in it and later learned it had occurred at 2.00am – phew!
So we climbed the bikes over the barriers and proceeded on our way. At least there was almost no traffic!
Eventually we got to the Saone/Rhone junction and started on our way to Aldi – up and up, and up and then some more up and up . . . At long last and at altitude of about 2000ft (!), having asked directions from 6 different people, we found the Aldi store. Now although the principle aims were cashew nuts and tonic, Alex did have another agenda. He had in mind that a replacement camera now being imperative, Aldi was without doubt the cheapest place to get one in France, prices being what they are here. And sure enough, there was a choice of 5 different cameras reduced to under €50. And the assistant was an Anglophile! – loves England and spoke excellent English. She was happy to help us choose the best value for money camera. Magic!!
So after a short up-and-up bit, it was down, down, down, back into Lyon and our moorings. The whole journey only took three hours (and about 5000 calories) – a mere nothing! And you should see our leg muscles!
We set off from Lyon, taking on fuel at one of the very few bunker barges in France on the way, and joined the mighty Rhone: wide river, variable flow, not much traffic (yet) and beautiful panoramic views!
After 3 to 4 hours, we arrived at Vienne: plenty of space to moor and a town with interesting heritage. We had only planned to spend one night here but immediately felt so beguiled that we decided to make it two. The Roman amphitheatre beckons, as does the ancient castle on the highest point of the hill. Alex has already made one unsuccessful foray in that direction – courtesy of misdirection by the bike shop proprietor, so another try tomorrow.
PS Latest news!!!! Have finally found out that John and Martha’s car blew a heater hose on the motorway and had to be towed off! Car not repaired until mid week but are enjoying their stay in Cap d’Antibes anyway. Phew!
Sunday 8 August 2010
St Jean de Losne to Macon
We set off from St Jean de Losne with a set of several moorings places in mind as we travelled down the Saône.
The first, at Ecluse Ecuelles, was as we suspected, completely impossible, as was the second at Seurre. Before the next, at Verdun sur le Doubs, were a couple of obsolete locks upriver of the town and as we passed them we thought, ‘Oh well, they might do’. We turned up the old river Doubs but the Port de Plaisance was packed and the only moorings left were impossible for us. We turned back up onto the main river, to look at the old locks but at the approach to the first one we immediately ran aground in the build up of silt, and realised this was going to be impossible as well. Luckily we managed to abort just before we became completely stuck.
We had one more unlikely possibility of a mooring on a pontoon at a place called Gergy, and failing that, it would be another three hours to the Canal du Centre and what was said to be a good spot about 8 kms and one lock up it! By this time we had decided a diversion onto the Canal du Centre would be a good idea anyway and it would also put in a bit of time so we would get to the Canal du Midi after the worst of the bumper boats had gone.
As we rounded the bend in the River Saône above Gergy, we could see the pontoon - and there was only one small boat on it! Halleluiah! Somewhere to moor and it’s still only 3.30 pm. There must be a god after all!
We moored up – plenty of depth – on a good solid pontoon: the other boat was moving off in an hour: it seems to be free. What ‘s the snag? No snag, it appears, apart from early morning fishermen clattering up and down the access ramp at 6.00 am!
One day further down the Saône and the mooring 7kms up the Canal du Centre at Fragnes is excellent – €6.20 per night including the all-important water and electricity and a free wi-fi connection. We decided to stay here for a few days and visit Chalon-sur-Saône by bicycle – a good decision as it turned out, as the moorings were again impossible for us.
The first day we ventured into Chalon at was at the weekend and there was a street festival taking place: hundreds of scruffy fans thronged the streets with their tents lining the banks of the river as far as the grass would allow. Stages were set up in all the squares and any other open space and people were milling about in anticipation. It was a colourful scene, but we had no idea what was going off where and when, and felt we would rather see Chalon when everything had calmed down. We had a drink on the waterfront and people-watched for a bit. This included watching a hotel barge come in to moor – amazing, all 110m of it, and all controlled by the captain standing outside his wheelhouse using a tiny joystick to control his monster.
We were sitting on the back deck having tea when a French couple stopped by to have a chat. Pierre spoke quite good English, Aveline his wife could understand English but not speak it. She did, however, speak French to us very slowly and clearly and we could understand most of what she was saying. They invited us to have a drink at their house and said they would collect us at 11.30 (it was then 10.30). Then Pierre said, ‘You have two hours to learn French”! So we wondered if he or we had the time wrong, but sure enough he arrived to collect us at 11.30 sharp and off we went for Premier Cru wine and nibbles for a couple of hours.
We, of course, invited them back for a return visit the next day and agreed on douze heure (12 o’clock’. Well, 12 o’clock came and went and we had lunch, assuming they had forgotten or something had cropped up. Then at 2 o’clock – deux heure they arrived!! Lost in translation evidently.
We also met a great couple called John and Hilary from the barge ISKRA (Russian for something but unfortunately we can’t remember what it was!). They had bought it as a sailaway and then fitted it out themselves. We had drinks and a meal together and found we had a lot in common. They come from the Nottingham area and of course, wouldn’t you guess – John knew our friend Brian Holdsworth who together with his wife Jill are the only people we know in Nottingham!
ISKRA and Riccall left Fragnes to cruise up the Canal du Centre to Chagny separately, we leaving a bit before them. We had decided to take two days to get there, stopping en-route. As we passed under the motorway bridge, Alex noticed that there was about 4" to spare above the height marker at the front of the boat. But as the boat travelled under the bridge he could see that the gap was reducing – the bridge was cambered. He knocked the boat into reverse to slow down, but knew it wouldn’t be possible to stop completely before the wheelhouse roof reached the lowest part of the bridge, so it was ram it into full ahead (which digs the stern in) and duck!
The front edge of the PV panel on the wheelhouse roof just grazed the white salts off the bottom of the concrete lintel of the bridge. No further damage, thank goodness, but it was close. The bridges on that as with every canal are all given a specific height clearance, but this one was lower. We did, of course, remove the roof for the rest of the journey to Chagny and back a couple of days later.
Back in Fragnes a couple from New Zealand Raelene and Malcolm Arthur who are touring France by car, bicycle and tent stopped for a chat. We invited them on board for tea and cakes while the heavens opened for the most tremendous storm. We only hope that their tent, which had been left at their campsite some 5 miles away with the flap open, had survived the tempest!
Our next stop was in the town of Tournus, which Rhonda on SOMEWHERE had said was a lovely town, worth a visit, and she was right. We did the usual town circuit but were quite enchanted by its medieval streets and the truly lovely Eglise Saint Philibert. Napoleon awarded the town the Legion d’Honneur for its success in seeing off the Austrians in 1814!
So it has been a very sociable time this last week or so, with a bit of tourism thrown in for good measure, with more to come. Martha and John from DE GROENE LEEUW (The Green Lion) are hoping to drop by and stay over with us on Friday, and we are now moored up in Macon which is a good place for them to find us and park their car.
And find us they did: we had a fantastic evening with them and were entertained by the Charles Aznavour sound-alike performing on a stage on the quay. Not only that, but we watched the comings and goings of several hotel cruise ships, and we had a ringside view of the 14th century bridge as it was lit up.
The following morning we said goodbye to John and Martha, and started to prepare to leave ourselves. Just a few minutes later, they reappeared in some agitation, to tell us that their car had been towed away. It appeared that it had been parked in a space reserved for the Saturday market which we could now see spreading in every direction on the quayside.
Louise went with them to the Tourist Information Office as a first port of call for help, the Police Station being closed. They were told to take a taxi to the holding compound out of town to pay for it and pick it up. So we waved goodbye again as they left in the taxi and got back to Riccall to resume leaving, which we did.
Alex fired off a quick text to Martha to check progress, and we set off. A few minutes later, we received a reply text to say that the tourist office information was all wrong and they had had to return to town to go to the police station first. Poor John and Martha were in the police station going through endless documentation, along with huge amounts of fines and recovery costs, not to mention all the taxi fares.
Then much later we learnt, to cap it all, that having got away at 11 am, a water hose on the car had blown and they were being towed off the motorway! What a catalogue of disasters for them, poor things. We hope they arrived eventually at their daughter’s rented villa at Cap d’Antibes, but at the time of writing, we haven’t had confirmation of that!
The first, at Ecluse Ecuelles, was as we suspected, completely impossible, as was the second at Seurre. Before the next, at Verdun sur le Doubs, were a couple of obsolete locks upriver of the town and as we passed them we thought, ‘Oh well, they might do’. We turned up the old river Doubs but the Port de Plaisance was packed and the only moorings left were impossible for us. We turned back up onto the main river, to look at the old locks but at the approach to the first one we immediately ran aground in the build up of silt, and realised this was going to be impossible as well. Luckily we managed to abort just before we became completely stuck.
We had one more unlikely possibility of a mooring on a pontoon at a place called Gergy, and failing that, it would be another three hours to the Canal du Centre and what was said to be a good spot about 8 kms and one lock up it! By this time we had decided a diversion onto the Canal du Centre would be a good idea anyway and it would also put in a bit of time so we would get to the Canal du Midi after the worst of the bumper boats had gone.
As we rounded the bend in the River Saône above Gergy, we could see the pontoon - and there was only one small boat on it! Halleluiah! Somewhere to moor and it’s still only 3.30 pm. There must be a god after all!
We moored up – plenty of depth – on a good solid pontoon: the other boat was moving off in an hour: it seems to be free. What ‘s the snag? No snag, it appears, apart from early morning fishermen clattering up and down the access ramp at 6.00 am!
One day further down the Saône and the mooring 7kms up the Canal du Centre at Fragnes is excellent – €6.20 per night including the all-important water and electricity and a free wi-fi connection. We decided to stay here for a few days and visit Chalon-sur-Saône by bicycle – a good decision as it turned out, as the moorings were again impossible for us.
The first day we ventured into Chalon at was at the weekend and there was a street festival taking place: hundreds of scruffy fans thronged the streets with their tents lining the banks of the river as far as the grass would allow. Stages were set up in all the squares and any other open space and people were milling about in anticipation. It was a colourful scene, but we had no idea what was going off where and when, and felt we would rather see Chalon when everything had calmed down. We had a drink on the waterfront and people-watched for a bit. This included watching a hotel barge come in to moor – amazing, all 110m of it, and all controlled by the captain standing outside his wheelhouse using a tiny joystick to control his monster.
We were sitting on the back deck having tea when a French couple stopped by to have a chat. Pierre spoke quite good English, Aveline his wife could understand English but not speak it. She did, however, speak French to us very slowly and clearly and we could understand most of what she was saying. They invited us to have a drink at their house and said they would collect us at 11.30 (it was then 10.30). Then Pierre said, ‘You have two hours to learn French”! So we wondered if he or we had the time wrong, but sure enough he arrived to collect us at 11.30 sharp and off we went for Premier Cru wine and nibbles for a couple of hours.
We, of course, invited them back for a return visit the next day and agreed on douze heure (12 o’clock’. Well, 12 o’clock came and went and we had lunch, assuming they had forgotten or something had cropped up. Then at 2 o’clock – deux heure they arrived!! Lost in translation evidently.
We also met a great couple called John and Hilary from the barge ISKRA (Russian for something but unfortunately we can’t remember what it was!). They had bought it as a sailaway and then fitted it out themselves. We had drinks and a meal together and found we had a lot in common. They come from the Nottingham area and of course, wouldn’t you guess – John knew our friend Brian Holdsworth who together with his wife Jill are the only people we know in Nottingham!
ISKRA and Riccall left Fragnes to cruise up the Canal du Centre to Chagny separately, we leaving a bit before them. We had decided to take two days to get there, stopping en-route. As we passed under the motorway bridge, Alex noticed that there was about 4" to spare above the height marker at the front of the boat. But as the boat travelled under the bridge he could see that the gap was reducing – the bridge was cambered. He knocked the boat into reverse to slow down, but knew it wouldn’t be possible to stop completely before the wheelhouse roof reached the lowest part of the bridge, so it was ram it into full ahead (which digs the stern in) and duck!
The front edge of the PV panel on the wheelhouse roof just grazed the white salts off the bottom of the concrete lintel of the bridge. No further damage, thank goodness, but it was close. The bridges on that as with every canal are all given a specific height clearance, but this one was lower. We did, of course, remove the roof for the rest of the journey to Chagny and back a couple of days later.
Back in Fragnes a couple from New Zealand Raelene and Malcolm Arthur who are touring France by car, bicycle and tent stopped for a chat. We invited them on board for tea and cakes while the heavens opened for the most tremendous storm. We only hope that their tent, which had been left at their campsite some 5 miles away with the flap open, had survived the tempest!
Our next stop was in the town of Tournus, which Rhonda on SOMEWHERE had said was a lovely town, worth a visit, and she was right. We did the usual town circuit but were quite enchanted by its medieval streets and the truly lovely Eglise Saint Philibert. Napoleon awarded the town the Legion d’Honneur for its success in seeing off the Austrians in 1814!
So it has been a very sociable time this last week or so, with a bit of tourism thrown in for good measure, with more to come. Martha and John from DE GROENE LEEUW (The Green Lion) are hoping to drop by and stay over with us on Friday, and we are now moored up in Macon which is a good place for them to find us and park their car.
And find us they did: we had a fantastic evening with them and were entertained by the Charles Aznavour sound-alike performing on a stage on the quay. Not only that, but we watched the comings and goings of several hotel cruise ships, and we had a ringside view of the 14th century bridge as it was lit up.
The following morning we said goodbye to John and Martha, and started to prepare to leave ourselves. Just a few minutes later, they reappeared in some agitation, to tell us that their car had been towed away. It appeared that it had been parked in a space reserved for the Saturday market which we could now see spreading in every direction on the quayside.
Louise went with them to the Tourist Information Office as a first port of call for help, the Police Station being closed. They were told to take a taxi to the holding compound out of town to pay for it and pick it up. So we waved goodbye again as they left in the taxi and got back to Riccall to resume leaving, which we did.
Alex fired off a quick text to Martha to check progress, and we set off. A few minutes later, we received a reply text to say that the tourist office information was all wrong and they had had to return to town to go to the police station first. Poor John and Martha were in the police station going through endless documentation, along with huge amounts of fines and recovery costs, not to mention all the taxi fares.
Then much later we learnt, to cap it all, that having got away at 11 am, a water hose on the car had blown and they were being towed off the motorway! What a catalogue of disasters for them, poor things. We hope they arrived eventually at their daughter’s rented villa at Cap d’Antibes, but at the time of writing, we haven’t had confirmation of that!
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