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!
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