We left Homps, passed Aurigny moored at La Redorte, which looked quite inviting, but we felt a bit early even for us to stop and moored instead at Puichéric – a couple of locks and kilometres further on We went into the village to suss it out. Everything was closed for Friday afternoon – the church, the shop, the wine cave, everything, so we returned to Riccall disappointed. We had another go on Saturday morning without much hope, but as it happened the shop and the wine cooperative were open (church still firmly closed) so we bought bread and wine and felt the trip fully justified.
The first floor office where we went to buy the wine backed onto the warehouse, which was a hive of industry. We could see rows of huge rectangular stainless steel vats with people darting about everywhere as the grape harvest was being weighed and unloaded from the steel farm trailers. Nobody was treading grapes or rolling wooden barrels about! In fact, it all looked so industrial you expected at any moment that steam would issue forth from the vats.
But the mooring we had found was a nice quiet spot and the weather was overcast and windy so we stayed another night, and on Sunday morning the sun came out, the sky was blue and we moved on.
The locks close between 12.30 and 1.30 hereabouts (pour le déjeuner don’t you know) and so we just squeezed through a triple lock by 12.30 and decided to stop for our lunch as well as we wouldn’t be able to get through the next lock anyway till 1.30pm.
As we struggled to moor up on an open section using tree roots to secure the boat, Alex suddenly noticed water on the back deck. As he slipped in it he realised - not water, but hydraulic fluid. Oh shit! So – stop engine, finish mooring up and do what we always do in a crisis – have lunch. Not the most relaxed of meals, but the sun was warm, the wind was gentle and fresh French bread and tapenade should have been fantastic.
After lunch Alex dived into the engine room to find a spare flexible hose for the hydraulic steering ram, the old one having disgorged a couple of litres of oil all over the deck from a pin prick fountain half way along its length. The replacement plus modifications was fitted, tested and passed OK so we were on our way again. At Marseillette we moored up on a nice new wooden quay with good wooden bollards and depth. Minor crises like the one we had just had always take it out of us and make us glad to stop for the day.
All day the plastic hire boats - bumper boats - whiz past us in both directions but from about 6 o’clock onwards, when we have settled down for our evening drinks, they start to roost.
They come past at about 10kmh, see that there is a mooring possible and put everything into reverse to stop. They moor up and then as likely as not, think, “It’s not perfect, let’s move on”, and off they go again.
At this mooring, for instance, we arrived at 3 o’clock. Since then one boat has left, three boats have arrived and subsequently left and there are now 3 boats in front and 3 boats behind us. One boat arrived, asked Alex if it was OK to moor. “Yes” said Alex, and five minutes later he left! Weird!
While we were at Palavas-les-Flots (seems about 10 years ago) we noticed a couple of guys walking along the side of the canal with a fishing net dipped into the water at the edge – sort of dredging! When we pulled in one of our buffer tyres there were a few mussels in it and tipping them out on the bankside we realised that this was what those guys had been ‘dredging’ for.
Imagine our surprise when today we noticed in one of our tyres, lying on the deck, a baby lobster! (We think.) We have no idea where we caught it or how long it had been trapped there, but it was good and dead now!
The plane trees which line both sides of the canal and give welcome shade in the height of summer, are now hiding the warmth we need from the sun, as the days settle into their cooler autumn pattern. Many of these aged trees have one or two bands of green painted on them and in many places there are notices indicating that boaters must not moor up nearby as the marked ones have a fungal infection. To our dismay we have learned that they are all to be felled, and even the roots removed this winter! We feel really lucky to have seen the Canal du Midi in all its glory before it happens. Of course these trees not only give the canal its character, but their roots protect the banks from the wash of the passing boats, and the falling leaves in autumn form a waterproof lining to the bottom of the canal. So when they are taken away VNF will also have to address the removal of both those benefits.
We stopped just shy of Trèbes and Alex moseyed up to take a look. Aurigny was there (snaffling the best place as usual – they get so lucky!). But we were invited to join them and their friends for drinks and good chat that evening. There was a space, along a bit, with two bollards just in front of a canalside restaurant. We moved Riccall forward and moored up, much to the interest of the restaurant clientele, cameras clicking, who were no more than three feet from the rather imposing Riccall flank!
Louise started to put together lunch while Alex looked for any untoward restrictions on the quayside. After a couple of minutes the restaurateur (somehow it was obvious who he was) came up to Alex and asked him to move Riccall forwards 20 metres. We were blocking his clients’ view! Alex said he couldn’t as there were no bollards further along: they both shrugged. He was not happy! And though we knew he had no right to ask us to move, after a lunch during the whole of which he stared daggers at us, we decided that mooring just through the town bridge where we had seen a good quay, would be quieter and less contentious, which it turned out to be. We cycled into Carcassonne to have a look at the mooring situation there, and actually managed to book a place on the quay for several days hence.
Our friends Gill and Brian popped in to stay overnight with us on their way home near Gaillac from Carcassonne airport and we had a lovely outdoor supper in a window in the weather giving warm sunshine and little wind.
The next day we set off for Carcassonne, but at the first lock, the éclusier came down to inform us that another strike was in progress that day (the retirement age again) and the locks were closed. Damn!
We moored up and in grey but dry weather cycled in to Carcassonne for the second time. As we arrived at the port we were amazed to see a sign on one of the moorings saying, ‘Reserved for Riccall’ and the date we were due to arrive! So now we really were committed (not like us). It poured with rain overnight but looked not so bad in the morning. Roof down – off we go!
First three locks OK but then a hint of rain. Next lock, two manoeuvring trip boats waiting, and raining harder now. We decided to moor up and put the roof back on, and a good thing we did. It started to pour. Off went the trip boats and after an age a couple of hire boats came down through the lock. The lock, of course, was now ready for us, but with a low bridge to negotiate to get in. The rain had eased, so – decision made – roof off and in we go. Just as we neared the top of the lock the rain started again in earnest and while Louise held onto the ropes on shore, Alex put the roof back into position, as the éclusier looked on in astonishment, smiled and gave us his approval. We knew that we could get through the next two bridges with roof on and that would get us to our quayside mooring, but the lockkeeper was very concerned to establish that we didn’t intend to go into the next lock whose bridge is also very low. No, we assured him, we are mooring before that point but good for him to warn us!
So, Carcassonne, here we are!
Tuesday 28 September 2010
Thursday 16 September 2010
Beziers to Homps Canal du Midi
Today we tackled the flight of locks at Béziers. Not the best of days as it quickly turned very windy, but at least no rain. We were 11th in the queue so that should have meant we would be in the 4th set going up (two or three boats can go up together). But of course, two trip boats, which have priority, appeared and took the first two slots. Then as each set of three boats entered the first lock, the whole waiting queue shifted forward. So about every 15 minutes it was ropes off and move forward 50m or so. Not so easy with the wind. Then when we got to pole position we lowered the roof to accommodate the arched bridge over Lock 3, and almost got a round of applause. One boater thanked us for ‘marvellous entertainment’!
The first three locks in the staircase were OK as the male lockkeeper kindly helped us with our ropes – putting them over the bollards which were too high and distant for us to reach.
But then ‘Madame Eclusière’ took over for the next four locks and told us in no uncertain terms that her job was operating the lock controls and not putting ropes over bollards: one of us must get off the boat and do that ourselves. We had been forewarned about this attitude of course, but initially Louise refused, explaining that she would control the boat from the boat – it is better practice. Madame gave up arguing but her attitude was plainly offensive and designed to be just that. Louise has now perfected the phrase, “Madame, sans plaisanciers, pas d’emploi pour vous!”. All Madame wanted to do was press buttons, and of course she wouldn’t wait for us to be safely moored up before letting the water cascade in. Very dangerous behaviour in a so-called professional.
At one point the other boat in the lock with us was acting as a rather large fender for Riccall but no harm done! The flight was negotiated and we were on our way but stopped as soon as we reached a possible place as the wind was getting stronger and it had been a stressful day so far. We moored, to huge trees, beside what turned out to be a sort of gated holiday community, consisting of owned homes and holiday lets. The laptop indicated a very strong wifi signal which needed a name and code to access. Alex went in search of the operators of the development. At the locked entrance gate an English car appeared whose occupants invited him in! Reception said Non! to temporary wifi access and a second couple of Brits confirmed this was now the case, so after affable chats with two sets of English home owners on the site Alex returned empty handed.
The next day we moved to within 100m of the entrance to the Malpas tunnel where several mooring posts beckoned us to stop and moor up for the day, and glad we did, for the ancient settlement (the Oppidum d’Enserune) on top of the adjacent hill was fascinating. Its museum was bursting with artefacts which had been unearthed during excavation of the site, and the surrounding countryside where an inland étang had been drained in the 1300s, was a spectacular sight. The land had been drained and drainage channels had been dug which all converged on the centre. From here a deeper channel had been created leading back out of the étang and through the tunnel. This gave the landscape the appearance of a huge pie chart with the different crops giving different coloured segments!
The hillside through which the Canal du Midi runs actually has three tunnels running through it. Highest is the Canal du Midi: below this is the railway tunnel, and below that is the drainage tunnel from the etang! Responsibility for this last was given to a committee in the 1300s and the ‘descendents’ of that first committee are still responsible today for its upkeep, though judging by the state of the drainage channel, they may be neglecting their responsibilities somewhat.
After the inevitable night of a live band and fireworks just 100 m away from what we thought was a totally rural setting, we moved on next day, through the Malpas tunnel and towards our ‘bête noir’ the Capestang bridge. We moored up half a kilometre before the bridge and Alex cycled forward to recce the scene.
Moored just through the famous bridge were Balestra and Aurigny, plus a couple of hire boats and enough room for us. So we thought, let’s not hang about, let’s get on with it, and have lunch later! (The suspense was killing Alex – this has been in his mind as a potential turn-back spot for years!)
Alex set up extension leads to the front of Riccall, large and small angle-grinders, spare cutting discs, goggles, gloves etc just in case we came unstuck (or rather became stuck and needed to remove the forward handrails!) and we set off.
In the event we cleared the bridge with inches to spare and just touched one hand-rail, well towards the stern, when Riccall gently drifted over to one side. (At such slow speeds it is very difficult to maintain an absolutely straight line as there is no flow past the rudder.) Nevertheless, we got a round of applause from the watching boaters.
So we moored on tree roots (free) just beyond the bridge helped by Peter and Nicci, whose barge Aurigny had also squeezed through the day before. They came for celebratory fizz in the evening and we were still there in the dark at 9pm exchanging chat and stories, as you do.
We are at the time of year when the grape harvest is being gathered in. The weird-shaped, and very expensive, harvesters keep dashing back and forth together with grape carriers, and when we ride past the vintners, the smell of fermenting grapes is often overpowering (and not altogether pleasant) but that’s part of what this is all about!
Our batteries have been playing up lately. Alex checked them all when we were at Toul during the winter and they seemed OK, albeit showing signs of ageing. He hoped they would see this year out before being replaced – they’re about 6-7 years old. However, a recent check after several unexpected ‘low battery condition’ warning lights showed that three batteries were well down on performance. Removing these from the bank has improved things a bit, but not completely. We’re just hoping that we can survive the next couple of months or so until we get to our winter moorings and a steady supply of 240v electricity. Then we must decide how to get 10 heavy-duty batteries from the UK to the south of France. Do we do a car run and make an adventure out of it, or do we get them shipped? (No way could we afford to buy them in France – they would be four times the price!)
We are now moored at Homps (a much nicer mooring than it sounds!) where we are able to plug in to water and electricity for a couple of days and give the batteries a good long charge – not to mention doing all the cleaning/laundry and having long luxurious showers or baths. Hopefully plugging in for 48 hours will revive the batteries a bit.
The first three locks in the staircase were OK as the male lockkeeper kindly helped us with our ropes – putting them over the bollards which were too high and distant for us to reach.
But then ‘Madame Eclusière’ took over for the next four locks and told us in no uncertain terms that her job was operating the lock controls and not putting ropes over bollards: one of us must get off the boat and do that ourselves. We had been forewarned about this attitude of course, but initially Louise refused, explaining that she would control the boat from the boat – it is better practice. Madame gave up arguing but her attitude was plainly offensive and designed to be just that. Louise has now perfected the phrase, “Madame, sans plaisanciers, pas d’emploi pour vous!”. All Madame wanted to do was press buttons, and of course she wouldn’t wait for us to be safely moored up before letting the water cascade in. Very dangerous behaviour in a so-called professional.
At one point the other boat in the lock with us was acting as a rather large fender for Riccall but no harm done! The flight was negotiated and we were on our way but stopped as soon as we reached a possible place as the wind was getting stronger and it had been a stressful day so far. We moored, to huge trees, beside what turned out to be a sort of gated holiday community, consisting of owned homes and holiday lets. The laptop indicated a very strong wifi signal which needed a name and code to access. Alex went in search of the operators of the development. At the locked entrance gate an English car appeared whose occupants invited him in! Reception said Non! to temporary wifi access and a second couple of Brits confirmed this was now the case, so after affable chats with two sets of English home owners on the site Alex returned empty handed.
The next day we moved to within 100m of the entrance to the Malpas tunnel where several mooring posts beckoned us to stop and moor up for the day, and glad we did, for the ancient settlement (the Oppidum d’Enserune) on top of the adjacent hill was fascinating. Its museum was bursting with artefacts which had been unearthed during excavation of the site, and the surrounding countryside where an inland étang had been drained in the 1300s, was a spectacular sight. The land had been drained and drainage channels had been dug which all converged on the centre. From here a deeper channel had been created leading back out of the étang and through the tunnel. This gave the landscape the appearance of a huge pie chart with the different crops giving different coloured segments!
The hillside through which the Canal du Midi runs actually has three tunnels running through it. Highest is the Canal du Midi: below this is the railway tunnel, and below that is the drainage tunnel from the etang! Responsibility for this last was given to a committee in the 1300s and the ‘descendents’ of that first committee are still responsible today for its upkeep, though judging by the state of the drainage channel, they may be neglecting their responsibilities somewhat.
After the inevitable night of a live band and fireworks just 100 m away from what we thought was a totally rural setting, we moved on next day, through the Malpas tunnel and towards our ‘bête noir’ the Capestang bridge. We moored up half a kilometre before the bridge and Alex cycled forward to recce the scene.
Moored just through the famous bridge were Balestra and Aurigny, plus a couple of hire boats and enough room for us. So we thought, let’s not hang about, let’s get on with it, and have lunch later! (The suspense was killing Alex – this has been in his mind as a potential turn-back spot for years!)
Alex set up extension leads to the front of Riccall, large and small angle-grinders, spare cutting discs, goggles, gloves etc just in case we came unstuck (or rather became stuck and needed to remove the forward handrails!) and we set off.
In the event we cleared the bridge with inches to spare and just touched one hand-rail, well towards the stern, when Riccall gently drifted over to one side. (At such slow speeds it is very difficult to maintain an absolutely straight line as there is no flow past the rudder.) Nevertheless, we got a round of applause from the watching boaters.
So we moored on tree roots (free) just beyond the bridge helped by Peter and Nicci, whose barge Aurigny had also squeezed through the day before. They came for celebratory fizz in the evening and we were still there in the dark at 9pm exchanging chat and stories, as you do.
We are at the time of year when the grape harvest is being gathered in. The weird-shaped, and very expensive, harvesters keep dashing back and forth together with grape carriers, and when we ride past the vintners, the smell of fermenting grapes is often overpowering (and not altogether pleasant) but that’s part of what this is all about!
Our batteries have been playing up lately. Alex checked them all when we were at Toul during the winter and they seemed OK, albeit showing signs of ageing. He hoped they would see this year out before being replaced – they’re about 6-7 years old. However, a recent check after several unexpected ‘low battery condition’ warning lights showed that three batteries were well down on performance. Removing these from the bank has improved things a bit, but not completely. We’re just hoping that we can survive the next couple of months or so until we get to our winter moorings and a steady supply of 240v electricity. Then we must decide how to get 10 heavy-duty batteries from the UK to the south of France. Do we do a car run and make an adventure out of it, or do we get them shipped? (No way could we afford to buy them in France – they would be four times the price!)
We are now moored at Homps (a much nicer mooring than it sounds!) where we are able to plug in to water and electricity for a couple of days and give the batteries a good long charge – not to mention doing all the cleaning/laundry and having long luxurious showers or baths. Hopefully plugging in for 48 hours will revive the batteries a bit.
Saturday 11 September 2010
Etang du Thau to Beziers
Eventually the wind dropped and we set off for Frontignan – the last stop before the Etang du Thau. No-one should cross the Etang (a shallow inland sea) if winds are above Force 3 on the Beaufort Scale, so we had had to wait for several days while very strong winds abated.
Frontignan has a road bridge under which almost nothing can pass (except little open fishing boats) and which lifts twice a day – 8.30am and 4pm, to allow ‘proper’ boats through. We got there at about 12 o’clock thinking we would go through at 4 pm, but when 4pm arrived and we saw the plethora of hire boats etc jostling for position to pass through, we decided that as we had a good mooring where we were, we would wait till 8.30am the next morning and use that as our set-off time for the Etang du Thau.
So the 8.30am morning scrum was not as bad as the 4pm the day before, but it was made more complicated by a commercial vessel coming ‘upstream’ towards us (generally downstream traffic has priority) but commercials take priority over plaisance, so who should go first? The commercial appeared to wave us forward, but at that very moment a hire boat darted in front of the commercial and came through upstream, flouting all the conventions. Obviously it was driven by a French crew for whom not playing the game is ‘de rigeur’. (I have it on good authority that all young French kids are taught how to cheat at all games and it is not only expected of them, but encouraged!)
The 2 hour journey over the Etang was uneventful but interesting as the channel is 150m from the oyster beds which are huge and on the north side. We got to the first lock on the Canal du Midi at about midday and, as there was a lovely place to moor, we stopped there for the day and night. The young student working on the lock was quite happy for us to be there and so were we. We celebrated this first achievement with a bottle of fizz (any excuse!). We had finally reached not the end of our quest, nor the beginning of the end, but the end of the beginning. (I think that may be a Churchillian misquote!)
We navigated the round lock of Agde, passed under the first of the many arched bridges typical of the Canal du Midi and found our next mooring at Vias – a good spot with a rather complicated system of acquiring electricity and water.
On our way into the old town the next day we heard a lot of car horns tooting and spotted a group of people up on the raised embankment of the bypass, so we joined them to see what was going on. This turned out to be a Harley Davidson rally consisting of some 650 bikes. We had missed at least half but the remaining 300 or so were quite enough of a spectacle as they motored past waving at us as we waved to them. What a sight! And of course, as usual, we stumble on these things with total ignorance and were glad of an English family who could fill us in with what was going on!
In the Saturday market we bought lovely olives, local wine, tapenade and half price paella. In these local markets there is always a seller of paella who cooks the meal in a HUGE paella pan in front of your very eyes. As we had turned up at the end of the market, he was trying to get rid of the last of his paella at half price. So that did us for two evening meals, and very nice it was too!
This mooring at Vias is taken up by several British boats which have been here for some time and all know each other well. But this has the advantage that they are all really friendly to us newcomers to the Canal du Midi and we have been given lots of useful advice regarding these moorings and others further on down the line. Barry of Balestra has been most helpful in this respect.
We passed through the tightest bridge so far at Villeneuve-les-Béziers: only about 6" to spare on the handrails, and moored up in the shade of the plane trees at the upstream end of a row of long-term péniches. This part of the Canal du Midi from the Etang du Thau was upgraded to take full 40m barges in the 1970s, but only as far as Béziers, so there are still a few around, though almost entirely non-commercial now. When the decrease in commercial barge traffic occurred it meant that it would not be cost effective to upgrade the rest of the Midi. This is a great relief to the pleasure boater, as the original nature of Jean-Paul Riquet’s canal is still maintained for the great majority of the canal’s length. It also means that from here on the maximum length of barges is only 30m.
In Béziers, which I am afraid is a very unappealing town, we did another of our epic rides to an Aldi which we knew was in the north of the town. While there, Alex saw that they still had their ‘retro velos’ for sale and he and Louise had a good look at them. Although Louise’s lovely Dutch bike is great in many respects, the hub brakes hardly work now and it is impossible to get spare parts. Here in the south of France, we find ourselves on far more hilly terrain than we did further north (and of course none at all in Holland) and the lack of brakes is becoming an issue! Alex has been looking out for a replacement bike for some time and these at Aldi looked as though they would do the job.
So we returned to the boat with all the shopping and Alex had a suss of the buses and determined to travel back to Aldi the next day by bus, and ride back on a new bike.
Of course, the next day the French government sector workers were on strike! So – no lock keepers, no refuse collection, no BUSES!! And all because they were going to be asked to retire at 62 instead of 60! I mean, I ask you. In Britain we already work to 65 and know that that may be increased to 67 soon. What’s all the fuss about? I think they should think themselves lucky. No sympathy for them at all, especially as Alex had to walk all the way to Aldi to get the bike (all 5km of it mostly uphill) all the while negotiating his way through and round the hordes of marching demonstrators waving banners, blowing trumpets, letting off bangers etc. He kept muttering quietly in English, “No sympathy! No sympathy!” as he struggled past them.
Still it was an easy ride back! A few adjustments to seat and handlebar height and it looked as if the bike might be OK.
However, a ride round to look at the old locks onto and off the River Orb, now superseded by an aqueduct, demonstrated that this bike was perhaps not for Louise after all. So after a night of cogitation and discussion, we decided to return it for our money back (one of the joys of shopping at Aldi – a no-quibble returns policy) so we cleaned all trace of our test ride off the new bike and carefully rode back up to Aldi with Alex on it and Louise on Alex’s bike. Then leaving the old bike round the corner we pushed the new bike the last 50 yards to the shop (Have we ridden it? Of course not!) But a brief explanation that the bike was too big for Louise was fully accepted and the refund given – in cash, in fact, meaning that Alex got cash without a transaction charge from his bank!
The buses were running again that day, so Louise caught the bus back to the centre of town and walked the rest of the long way, while Alex rode the old bike back to the moorings! And onward goes the search for a replacement bike for Louise, but in the meantime, we have swapped bikes. (Both brakes work well on Alex’s Ricardo bike and he reckons he can manage better with poor brakes than Louise can on her old machine! But Louise is very sad; she loved her old Gazelle Dutch bike.)
Frontignan has a road bridge under which almost nothing can pass (except little open fishing boats) and which lifts twice a day – 8.30am and 4pm, to allow ‘proper’ boats through. We got there at about 12 o’clock thinking we would go through at 4 pm, but when 4pm arrived and we saw the plethora of hire boats etc jostling for position to pass through, we decided that as we had a good mooring where we were, we would wait till 8.30am the next morning and use that as our set-off time for the Etang du Thau.
So the 8.30am morning scrum was not as bad as the 4pm the day before, but it was made more complicated by a commercial vessel coming ‘upstream’ towards us (generally downstream traffic has priority) but commercials take priority over plaisance, so who should go first? The commercial appeared to wave us forward, but at that very moment a hire boat darted in front of the commercial and came through upstream, flouting all the conventions. Obviously it was driven by a French crew for whom not playing the game is ‘de rigeur’. (I have it on good authority that all young French kids are taught how to cheat at all games and it is not only expected of them, but encouraged!)
The 2 hour journey over the Etang was uneventful but interesting as the channel is 150m from the oyster beds which are huge and on the north side. We got to the first lock on the Canal du Midi at about midday and, as there was a lovely place to moor, we stopped there for the day and night. The young student working on the lock was quite happy for us to be there and so were we. We celebrated this first achievement with a bottle of fizz (any excuse!). We had finally reached not the end of our quest, nor the beginning of the end, but the end of the beginning. (I think that may be a Churchillian misquote!)
We navigated the round lock of Agde, passed under the first of the many arched bridges typical of the Canal du Midi and found our next mooring at Vias – a good spot with a rather complicated system of acquiring electricity and water.
On our way into the old town the next day we heard a lot of car horns tooting and spotted a group of people up on the raised embankment of the bypass, so we joined them to see what was going on. This turned out to be a Harley Davidson rally consisting of some 650 bikes. We had missed at least half but the remaining 300 or so were quite enough of a spectacle as they motored past waving at us as we waved to them. What a sight! And of course, as usual, we stumble on these things with total ignorance and were glad of an English family who could fill us in with what was going on!
In the Saturday market we bought lovely olives, local wine, tapenade and half price paella. In these local markets there is always a seller of paella who cooks the meal in a HUGE paella pan in front of your very eyes. As we had turned up at the end of the market, he was trying to get rid of the last of his paella at half price. So that did us for two evening meals, and very nice it was too!
This mooring at Vias is taken up by several British boats which have been here for some time and all know each other well. But this has the advantage that they are all really friendly to us newcomers to the Canal du Midi and we have been given lots of useful advice regarding these moorings and others further on down the line. Barry of Balestra has been most helpful in this respect.
We passed through the tightest bridge so far at Villeneuve-les-Béziers: only about 6" to spare on the handrails, and moored up in the shade of the plane trees at the upstream end of a row of long-term péniches. This part of the Canal du Midi from the Etang du Thau was upgraded to take full 40m barges in the 1970s, but only as far as Béziers, so there are still a few around, though almost entirely non-commercial now. When the decrease in commercial barge traffic occurred it meant that it would not be cost effective to upgrade the rest of the Midi. This is a great relief to the pleasure boater, as the original nature of Jean-Paul Riquet’s canal is still maintained for the great majority of the canal’s length. It also means that from here on the maximum length of barges is only 30m.
In Béziers, which I am afraid is a very unappealing town, we did another of our epic rides to an Aldi which we knew was in the north of the town. While there, Alex saw that they still had their ‘retro velos’ for sale and he and Louise had a good look at them. Although Louise’s lovely Dutch bike is great in many respects, the hub brakes hardly work now and it is impossible to get spare parts. Here in the south of France, we find ourselves on far more hilly terrain than we did further north (and of course none at all in Holland) and the lack of brakes is becoming an issue! Alex has been looking out for a replacement bike for some time and these at Aldi looked as though they would do the job.
So we returned to the boat with all the shopping and Alex had a suss of the buses and determined to travel back to Aldi the next day by bus, and ride back on a new bike.
Of course, the next day the French government sector workers were on strike! So – no lock keepers, no refuse collection, no BUSES!! And all because they were going to be asked to retire at 62 instead of 60! I mean, I ask you. In Britain we already work to 65 and know that that may be increased to 67 soon. What’s all the fuss about? I think they should think themselves lucky. No sympathy for them at all, especially as Alex had to walk all the way to Aldi to get the bike (all 5km of it mostly uphill) all the while negotiating his way through and round the hordes of marching demonstrators waving banners, blowing trumpets, letting off bangers etc. He kept muttering quietly in English, “No sympathy! No sympathy!” as he struggled past them.
Still it was an easy ride back! A few adjustments to seat and handlebar height and it looked as if the bike might be OK.
However, a ride round to look at the old locks onto and off the River Orb, now superseded by an aqueduct, demonstrated that this bike was perhaps not for Louise after all. So after a night of cogitation and discussion, we decided to return it for our money back (one of the joys of shopping at Aldi – a no-quibble returns policy) so we cleaned all trace of our test ride off the new bike and carefully rode back up to Aldi with Alex on it and Louise on Alex’s bike. Then leaving the old bike round the corner we pushed the new bike the last 50 yards to the shop (Have we ridden it? Of course not!) But a brief explanation that the bike was too big for Louise was fully accepted and the refund given – in cash, in fact, meaning that Alex got cash without a transaction charge from his bank!
The buses were running again that day, so Louise caught the bus back to the centre of town and walked the rest of the long way, while Alex rode the old bike back to the moorings! And onward goes the search for a replacement bike for Louise, but in the meantime, we have swapped bikes. (Both brakes work well on Alex’s Ricardo bike and he reckons he can manage better with poor brakes than Louise can on her old machine! But Louise is very sad; she loved her old Gazelle Dutch bike.)
Saturday 4 September 2010
Avignon - Palavas-les-Flots
We decided we had to give Avignon two nights despite the noisy road past the moorings and the cost of those moorings – even after Alex had managed to negotiate a reduced rate if we took no water and electricity!
But the town itself was great - lots of narrow winding streets in amongst the tall ancient housing in which it was more than easy to get lost. Alex set off on his bicycle to circumnavigate the protective wall, which, still largely intact, protects the town. Only two short sections had been closed to the general public: one a private block of flats, and the other the University of Avignon, which was closed for the summer recess. The rest was available, extant and impressive.
The Pont d’Avignon is not available without cost - €3.50 per person to walk out upon the remaining 4 arches and look into the remains of the burial chapel (in arch number 3) of ? responsible for its construction.
There is some confusion about the words of the song which celebrates the Pont c’Avignon. Some say it is ‘sur le Pont d’Avignon’, and some say it is ‘sous le Pont d’Avignon’. We decided it was cheaper to danse SOUS le Pont d’Avignon, and that’s what we did on one of our many bicycle trips under its first arch!
We also looked at many of the historical buildings and squares, which make up this intriguing city.
Eventually we cast off (and as usual the helping current flow had all but ceased!) and made our way down the last few kilometres of the Rhone before entering the ‘Petite Rhone’ and our hoped-for next mooring.
On the way we were amazed when the first lock waited at least ten minutes for us to arrive, forcing a commercial in the lock to wait for little us. Our surprise was only increased when on exiting the lock we saw that two enormous commercials were waiting to come up and were too big to go in together. So one minute they red-light us as we arrive and a couple of days later they hold the lock for 10 minutes to let us in. Weird!
We turned off onto the Petite Rhone and the first possible mooring had just been taken by a hire boat. We hadn’t downloaded the DBA mooring guide for this small section so were working on our own initiative at this point, but from a couple of sources we had been assured that we could moor on the banks of the Petite Rhone in several places. We spotted one such place which was a high commercial quay in front of which appeared to be a family of coypu swimming against the current. We made to turn round and a speedboat immediately appeared coming towards us so we waited while he went past then started again. Another speedboat appeared from the other direction so we aborted again. Typical! Nothing for hours then two at once when you least want them!
Meanwhile the strong current was taking us further and further away from the potential mooring, but eventually we turned and made our way back to the quay. Alex approached gingerly and suddenly it became apparent to Louise at the bow that the family of coypu were in fact the tops of a nasty set of steel posts set into the river to act as groynes. We backed off sharpish and continued on our way.
In fact, these groynes were just above, or worse, just below the surface all the rest of the way down this short section, but we did eventually spot a short official pontoon 2kms before the lock onto the Canal du Rhone à Sete, where we moored for a couple of nights: we were joined on the second night by GERMINAL with Rose-marie and Claude on board.
While there we rode into St Gilles town to restock and have a looksee. We hated it! Dirty, unkempt, slummy is what we thought, but on the plus side we found NOORDSTER moored there and had a cup of tea and a chat with Judith and Simon.
We set off hoping to moor at Aigues-Mortes but before we got there, Rose-marie phoned ahead for us and then texted to warn us that there was no room, so we took the Aigues-Mortes canal bypass and moored onto a short lightweight wooden pontoon with no obvious method of securing ourselves. Our lines eventually were tied to a stout bush, the structure of the pontoon and one ground anchor screwed into the soft ground but actually, despite numerous passing trip boats and commercial carriers, our mooring held remarkably well, though we did find ourselves aground a few times as the water level went up and down by some 20cms. We speculated that perhaps the Mediterranean tide was having an effect, there being no lock between us and the sea.
This whole area is amazing: water stretches everywhere on either side of the canal which is built right across the shallow inland seas or étangs. On either side of the canal is a ribbon of slightly raised land with a road on one side. A crumbling stone and earth wall on the other side denotes where the canal ends and the étang begins! Here and there there are ‘entrances’ into the étangs which only the tiny fishing boats are allowed to use. The étangs, canal and the Mediterranean are all linked, so as the small tide in the Med rises and falls, there is a slight flow into and out of the canal and the étangs. It is a most odd area and we have seen nothing quite like it, not even in Holland where some canals are built right across inland seas, but they are on a much bigger scale and usually there is no view as you cross because the banks are much higher than the boat.
Next we reached Palavas-les-Flots which is something of a ‘refined’ seaside resort: no kiss-me-quick hats, no amusement arcades, candy floss or fish and chips – at least not on the sea front, which is all good looking apartment blocks set in gardens! The canal is one kilometre from the sea front and we moored up ahead of a converted Dutch barge – MR PIP – which had gone past us on our moorings on the Petite Rhone. Philip, his ex wife Therese, daughter Stephanie and her boyfriend Andy all came for drinks that night and we had a return match the following night. Phil et al set off next day but he has booked his winter moorings in Buzet sur Baise, same as us, so hopefully we will see him again.
Being just a kilometre from the sea front a bike ride to it and a swim in the Med was a must. It was actually a bit colder than we expected but once we became acclimatised it was great fun.
Then a visit to the Abbaye de Maguelone, 5kms ahead of us and on the only ‘high’ ground in the area, proved to be well worth the effort and we also bought 4 bottles of its own domaine wine.
Brian Wall, a friend of many years, who now lives near Gaillac (4 hours away) happened to be passing our vicinity when we rang him, so he came for the night and we all enjoyed a bottle or three of the abbey wine, good food and chat.
The high winds over the last few days, whilst giving us the blessing of a bit of coolth, have also meant that we cannot proceed to cross the Etang du Thau, so we have just had to wait at Palavas-les-Flots until they die down. One of the plus sides of this is that we are at one of the few wide and deep spots on the canal and all the really big barges (up to 100m x 11m) stop here to let opposing barges pass. It makes for a great sight and although we will be glad to move on in due course, we will, no doubt, miss seeing these big boys doing their stuff. Once onto the Canal du Midi there will be no commercial craft at all.
We have also taken the opportunity, while stuck here, to catch the bus into Montpellier. Having lived in Harrogate the name ‘Montpellier’ is very familiar to us (it denotes a very chic part of town) and we found ourselves curious to know what the eponymous city itself was like. And it came up to expectations – a fabulous city with a mix of ancient and modern architecture any city would be proud of. The old part - narrow twisting streets and buildings with typical French frontages and cast iron balconies - was really intriguing, but even the newer parts have largely been built with a grandeur and style that perfectly complements what went before, with only a few 1960/70s horrors cropping up here and there. We really loved it – enough to treat ourselves to moules frites on the terrace of an upmarket restaurant in the main square, followed, after a ‘Petite Train’ ride round the old town, by the cheapest coffee in all France so far, just €2 for two cups! Brill!
Today we will ‘finish off’ Palavas by visiting the ‘old’ fortress, which many years ago was surrounded (literally) by a water tower. In recent times the water tower was dismantled, the fortress moved stone by stone to a new site and a magnificent, iconic tower (or carbuncle depending on your viewpoint) incorporating a conference centre, panoramic gallery and revolving restaurant was built on the old site.
By the time we have done all that, we will have been stuck here for nearly a week, so we are hoping sincerely that tomorrow the wind will have died down and we can get on. After all, the Canal du Midi is now only one day’s travel away!
But the town itself was great - lots of narrow winding streets in amongst the tall ancient housing in which it was more than easy to get lost. Alex set off on his bicycle to circumnavigate the protective wall, which, still largely intact, protects the town. Only two short sections had been closed to the general public: one a private block of flats, and the other the University of Avignon, which was closed for the summer recess. The rest was available, extant and impressive.
The Pont d’Avignon is not available without cost - €3.50 per person to walk out upon the remaining 4 arches and look into the remains of the burial chapel (in arch number 3) of ? responsible for its construction.
There is some confusion about the words of the song which celebrates the Pont c’Avignon. Some say it is ‘sur le Pont d’Avignon’, and some say it is ‘sous le Pont d’Avignon’. We decided it was cheaper to danse SOUS le Pont d’Avignon, and that’s what we did on one of our many bicycle trips under its first arch!
We also looked at many of the historical buildings and squares, which make up this intriguing city.
Eventually we cast off (and as usual the helping current flow had all but ceased!) and made our way down the last few kilometres of the Rhone before entering the ‘Petite Rhone’ and our hoped-for next mooring.
On the way we were amazed when the first lock waited at least ten minutes for us to arrive, forcing a commercial in the lock to wait for little us. Our surprise was only increased when on exiting the lock we saw that two enormous commercials were waiting to come up and were too big to go in together. So one minute they red-light us as we arrive and a couple of days later they hold the lock for 10 minutes to let us in. Weird!
We turned off onto the Petite Rhone and the first possible mooring had just been taken by a hire boat. We hadn’t downloaded the DBA mooring guide for this small section so were working on our own initiative at this point, but from a couple of sources we had been assured that we could moor on the banks of the Petite Rhone in several places. We spotted one such place which was a high commercial quay in front of which appeared to be a family of coypu swimming against the current. We made to turn round and a speedboat immediately appeared coming towards us so we waited while he went past then started again. Another speedboat appeared from the other direction so we aborted again. Typical! Nothing for hours then two at once when you least want them!
Meanwhile the strong current was taking us further and further away from the potential mooring, but eventually we turned and made our way back to the quay. Alex approached gingerly and suddenly it became apparent to Louise at the bow that the family of coypu were in fact the tops of a nasty set of steel posts set into the river to act as groynes. We backed off sharpish and continued on our way.
In fact, these groynes were just above, or worse, just below the surface all the rest of the way down this short section, but we did eventually spot a short official pontoon 2kms before the lock onto the Canal du Rhone à Sete, where we moored for a couple of nights: we were joined on the second night by GERMINAL with Rose-marie and Claude on board.
While there we rode into St Gilles town to restock and have a looksee. We hated it! Dirty, unkempt, slummy is what we thought, but on the plus side we found NOORDSTER moored there and had a cup of tea and a chat with Judith and Simon.
We set off hoping to moor at Aigues-Mortes but before we got there, Rose-marie phoned ahead for us and then texted to warn us that there was no room, so we took the Aigues-Mortes canal bypass and moored onto a short lightweight wooden pontoon with no obvious method of securing ourselves. Our lines eventually were tied to a stout bush, the structure of the pontoon and one ground anchor screwed into the soft ground but actually, despite numerous passing trip boats and commercial carriers, our mooring held remarkably well, though we did find ourselves aground a few times as the water level went up and down by some 20cms. We speculated that perhaps the Mediterranean tide was having an effect, there being no lock between us and the sea.
This whole area is amazing: water stretches everywhere on either side of the canal which is built right across the shallow inland seas or étangs. On either side of the canal is a ribbon of slightly raised land with a road on one side. A crumbling stone and earth wall on the other side denotes where the canal ends and the étang begins! Here and there there are ‘entrances’ into the étangs which only the tiny fishing boats are allowed to use. The étangs, canal and the Mediterranean are all linked, so as the small tide in the Med rises and falls, there is a slight flow into and out of the canal and the étangs. It is a most odd area and we have seen nothing quite like it, not even in Holland where some canals are built right across inland seas, but they are on a much bigger scale and usually there is no view as you cross because the banks are much higher than the boat.
Next we reached Palavas-les-Flots which is something of a ‘refined’ seaside resort: no kiss-me-quick hats, no amusement arcades, candy floss or fish and chips – at least not on the sea front, which is all good looking apartment blocks set in gardens! The canal is one kilometre from the sea front and we moored up ahead of a converted Dutch barge – MR PIP – which had gone past us on our moorings on the Petite Rhone. Philip, his ex wife Therese, daughter Stephanie and her boyfriend Andy all came for drinks that night and we had a return match the following night. Phil et al set off next day but he has booked his winter moorings in Buzet sur Baise, same as us, so hopefully we will see him again.
Being just a kilometre from the sea front a bike ride to it and a swim in the Med was a must. It was actually a bit colder than we expected but once we became acclimatised it was great fun.
Then a visit to the Abbaye de Maguelone, 5kms ahead of us and on the only ‘high’ ground in the area, proved to be well worth the effort and we also bought 4 bottles of its own domaine wine.
Brian Wall, a friend of many years, who now lives near Gaillac (4 hours away) happened to be passing our vicinity when we rang him, so he came for the night and we all enjoyed a bottle or three of the abbey wine, good food and chat.
The high winds over the last few days, whilst giving us the blessing of a bit of coolth, have also meant that we cannot proceed to cross the Etang du Thau, so we have just had to wait at Palavas-les-Flots until they die down. One of the plus sides of this is that we are at one of the few wide and deep spots on the canal and all the really big barges (up to 100m x 11m) stop here to let opposing barges pass. It makes for a great sight and although we will be glad to move on in due course, we will, no doubt, miss seeing these big boys doing their stuff. Once onto the Canal du Midi there will be no commercial craft at all.
We have also taken the opportunity, while stuck here, to catch the bus into Montpellier. Having lived in Harrogate the name ‘Montpellier’ is very familiar to us (it denotes a very chic part of town) and we found ourselves curious to know what the eponymous city itself was like. And it came up to expectations – a fabulous city with a mix of ancient and modern architecture any city would be proud of. The old part - narrow twisting streets and buildings with typical French frontages and cast iron balconies - was really intriguing, but even the newer parts have largely been built with a grandeur and style that perfectly complements what went before, with only a few 1960/70s horrors cropping up here and there. We really loved it – enough to treat ourselves to moules frites on the terrace of an upmarket restaurant in the main square, followed, after a ‘Petite Train’ ride round the old town, by the cheapest coffee in all France so far, just €2 for two cups! Brill!
Today we will ‘finish off’ Palavas by visiting the ‘old’ fortress, which many years ago was surrounded (literally) by a water tower. In recent times the water tower was dismantled, the fortress moved stone by stone to a new site and a magnificent, iconic tower (or carbuncle depending on your viewpoint) incorporating a conference centre, panoramic gallery and revolving restaurant was built on the old site.
By the time we have done all that, we will have been stuck here for nearly a week, so we are hoping sincerely that tomorrow the wind will have died down and we can get on. After all, the Canal du Midi is now only one day’s travel away!
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