Lyon to Toul

Finally the last Lyon blood test had been taken and things were still slowly moving in the right direction, so we started out from the Port de Confluence and onwards to the north.  We said our farewells to Christophe, the port Capitaine who had been so helpful and kind, waved goodbye to the navette Le Vaporetto (water bus) as it passed to pick up its passengers, waved to the builders of the new capitainerie whose next door neighbours we had been for so long (and who woke us every morning at 7am when they started work!) and sailed out onto the Saone.

At the first evening’s moorings at Trevoux, we noticed a sign saying ‘leave 40m clear for the trip boat’ due that very evening.  We were already moored quite close to the cruiser at the upstream end of the pontoon, and while we contemplated moving even further to give the required 40m, a Dutch barge moored up behind us.  We pointed out the notice and before we knew it they were up and off again.  The guy on the cruiser at the downstream end of the pontoon said he had asked at the tourist office if there really was a trip boat due.  The office had rung VNF and no there wasn’t.  Well, we were taking no chances, so Alex paced out exactly 40m behind us: if we moved up to within half a metre of the cruiser in front, there was exactly 40m behind us, so we did. And sure enough, right on schedule at 4pm a trip boat did turn up.  It was only about 28m long so it had plenty of room to moor, but that didn’t prevent the capitaine from looking like he was sucking a lemon.  (And the crew too for that matter.)  What the dear old biddies who streamed off the boat for their sightseeing thought of them I have no idea.  Service industry?  The customer is always right? Service with a smile? Ha!

On the way to the next mooring Louise rang Pascale, the proprietor of the Bateau Ecole who had befriended her in Lyon and offered help in moving RICCALL if such was needed (as he had a piloting licence to move barges up to very, very big ones!).  He had offered to move RICCALL to a winter mooring up river from Lyon should Alex require repatriation and therefore be unable to do it himself.  Very kind of him and a very nice man, so Louise rang to say we were on our way to the pontoon where he moored his little boat and was there room for us?  He rang back to say yes, he had been down to the mooring and arranged that a little sailing boat would move aside for us when we arrived and moor outside us.

Well!  When we arrived, there were already two 26m barges moored side by side and sure enough the sailing boat moved and we JUST fitted onto the end of the pontoon with the sailing boat outside us.  The other barges were HELENE owned by a German couple Jens and Anja with two children under 5, VROUWE ANTJE owned by John and Jane with one child under 3, and the sailing boat KNIGHT’S CROSS owned by Peter and Edith, an Australian couple with children of 3 and 5. We thought we must have arrived at a boaters’ crèche!

Pascal had clearly talked to Jens and Anja when he had dropped by the pontoon to make the arrangement for our arrival, because when he turned up to renew our acquaintance he also talked to them for some time about arranging for them to take their ICC and practical test for barges over 20m.  He joined us for tea later in the afternoon.

Anyway, they were all lovely people.  John and Jane came for an apero, then we went after supper to HELENE for the tail end of Jane’s birthday dinner party for puds and drinks.  The whole ensemble was there together – several of the children included!  A great night, and so kind of them to include us, hitherto unknowns.

The following day they all came for coffee on RICCALL and we must confess - trying to keep a watchful eye on 5 toddlers on a barge is a bit of a strain – to put it mildly!

We also had the evil eye from the self-appointed pontoon capitaine whose little cruiser was moored at the downstream end of the pontoon.  He took photos of our three barges and stalked off emphasising three barges on the pontoon, and that he was going to report us all to the bureau (whatever that was) but as we were leaving that day we weren’t overly worried, and in any case no-one turned up. (What a miserable bastard!  There he was with free mooring, water and electricity - just taking advantage, and he’d certainly been there more than 3 days!)  Mind you, the pontoon was a little over-full!!

There was plenty of room on the long pontoon at Macon our next stop, but the following day Tournus was packed, so initially a bit of concern till Louise spotted that there on the quay ahead was DANUM, a sister ship to RICCALL, albeit 8 years older.  So we moored alongside her with the belated permission of Robert and Jill Cowley who popped out from below to find out what was going on.  Mutual appreciation of each other’s boats followed.  Then tea on RICCALL and later drinks on DANUM.

As usual the contrast between how we all finish our boats is amazing. Robert and Jill had been lucky to buy a boat which had been cherished by its owners when in commercial operation so everything on it was original and thus they have kept it as close to that as possible, rather like a museum piece inside and out, but in the nicest possible way, whereas we had nothing left of the origins of RICCALL, just a big open hold with wrecked forecabin and nothing aft.  So we had had a clean slate to work with.

A couple of days later we moored up at Seurre where we had sussed in advance that Alex could have his next blood test.  That went well and we had an interesting exit from the quay in reverse with a strong wind assisting our about-turn among the finger pontoons.  What!  We missed by miles!  At least 2 feet.

At St Jean de Losne amazingly, we got a place on the town quay and snaffled the ONLY working power supply for the 2^nd night when the boat using it left.  To our surprise Don and Di of IBAIA dropped in for a good chat.  They were moored up at St Symphorien just a few kilometres away, and were on their way south by car, to Port Lalande on the River Lot to help with the grape harvest.  How brilliant!

Our next blood test was to be in Gray where mooring was available, even if we had to be 5 feet off the quay due to the 1 metre depth.  Both RICCALL and a 30m barge VIRUNGA were well aground in the morning as the river level dropped.

Alex managed to free RICCALL himself, but it took the combined power of 8 men from 2 hire boats, and a suggestion for mechanical leverage from Alex to free VIRUNGA.  We also met and had drinks with David and Lois of CHRISTINA-ROTTERDAM, a 30m converted Dutch luxemotor, and admired each other’s fit-outs. Reluctantly we had to forgo the invitation to a Greek evening as we felt bound to move on.

We got Alex’s blood test result (a bit higher than the last one) by 12pm but had to wait till 2pm for the pharmacy to open, as we realised we were short of some of his medication and would run out before we got to Epinal.  As it turned out, because it was a week before the end of the month, the pharmacist wouldn’t give us what we needed anyway.

When we arrived at Soing, one of our absolutely favourite moorings on the river, there was a hire boat on the pontoon – damn!  But it was a Swiss family who had come through a lock with us and had been very interested in RICCALL and our lives aboard, and when we arrived they said they had been wondering when to leave and we had made up their mind for them – now!!  So they assisted our mooring and then departed, leaving us on our pontoon in solitude.

A couple of days later and we got to Corre.  There is a low bridge here and as the day was fine we decided to go through immediately in case it was raining the next day and we had to remove the roof.  As it turned out we got through with 3 inches to spare but we had forgotten that the Canal des Vosges has no lock moorings, so above the first lock we had to tie to trees and a wobbly post, and hang the back end of RICCALL out by 10 feet to keep out of the shallows.

We had better luck at Fontenoy, where to our amazement the quay was almost empty and though €14 a night was a bit steep, at least we had electricity and water included.  The town though appears to be on its last legs with most of the shops closed down and for sale or to let, or just falling to rack and ruin.  However, in the midst of it all was a bright looking well-stocked pharmacy whose pharmacist was quite happy to provide the next month’s medication, where Gray pharmacy had not been, so that was an unexpected bonus.

As we continued on up the locks of the Vosges towards the summit we saw very few other boats indeed.  We arrived above Lock 14 Thiélouze and were able to moor on a couple of rings 40m apart.  Alex had suddenly realised that it was Louise’s birthday the next day and, as usual, he was not prepared!  However, in the middle of the night he got up, made a birthday card and decorated the whole of the inside of the wheelhouse with the bunting.   Aaaaawwwww!

At the very long mooring quay at Girancourt, just before the summit, only two others were already moored there.  We tied up for the night and Alex cycled off to the local Intermarche fuel station (just 200m from the port) with a 20 litre container on our home-adapted trailer for some fuel.  We had calculated that we had just enough to get back to Toul before we ran out, but three trips to the garage would give us an extra 60 litres and just allow that element of comfort.

The weather had so far been lovely – wonderful, as Louise had been really looking forward to doing the Vosges Canal again, as it is in a fairly remote area and just so pretty – but now that we were close to the summit, the weather changed and the outlook was for wet, wet, wet!  And that’s what we got.  We had had one intimation of the approach of autumn in early October in just one single tree in its glorious colours and then nothing more – all other trees appeared to be staying green ad infinitum! But now things looked ready to change.

The next day we spent climbing the last lock up onto the summit level (whose level seemed pretty low, but VNF assured us there was plenty of depth for 1.4m) and then descending the 14 locks to the Epinal junction.  These locks are now all automatic and connected, so once you start you have to go all the way or get in touch with VNF and warn them that you want to stop en route.  We decided to do the lot, and by the time we had had one lock fail on us, we got to the junction for a very late lunch at 3pm.  We had also had an unexpected low bridge halfway down the flight which we’d not noted on our previous journey and we squeezed under with literally 20mm to spare.  Phew!

As we passed through the last two locks on the flight a family had been watching closely, the father explaining to the son the workings of the locks.  When we entered the last lock, he asked if it would be possible to come aboard for the ‘ride’ through the lock.  They were such a nice family, Janek and Alois, and we enjoyed chatting to them for the 10 minutes or so for the lock to empty and for us to moor up at the junction.

In the morning we set off on our bikes from our mooring at the junction to ride the 3kms into Epinal for the next blood test.  (The little canal into Epinal is said to be shallow and it wasn’t worth the risk of getting stuck.)  We found the Laboratoire Analyse Medicale, gave the blood, then had a few hours to kill in Epinal, A ‘formule’ lunch, a look round the ruined chateau, the cathedral et al, then pick up the result at 4pm and back to RICCALL. 

The batteries on RICCALL are getting worse and worse as time goes on so, nothing ventured, nothing gained, Alex went to the adjacent VNF office and said, “Watcha mate, me batteries is knackered.  Any chance of a plug-in?” but in French, and they said yes.  Result!!

We knew that the bridge at Thaon was a ROFF because we had marked it up in our book but we were caught out by the one before it at Chavelot.  We started to exit the lock and the height-marker flag pole at the bow told the story, so we backed back into the lock somewhat and to the amazement of a bystander quickly got the roof off.  At that point of course, the fine drizzle turned into a total downpour, so having exited under the little bridge we had to immediately replace the roof.  Then came the job of drying off everything which we hadn’t had time to protect in our haste to exit the lock before the gates closed on us (including Louise’s one and only birthday card).

At Thaon lock we had to repeat the whole performance again but this time there was a window of dry weather long enough to do it without getting soaked again (and of course, this time we were more prepared anyway).

And now of course, the advent of autumn is making itself felt.  The weather is truly autumnal – wet and windy and noticeably colder, and the trees in this area have got the message – time to start turning!

We stopped for lunch in the huge, new (but unfinished) mooring basin which was underway 2 years ago.  Obviously now the whole project has been abandoned – all the other proposed buildings and facilities are non-existent but the mooring itself is excellent – no services of course but good bollards on a purpose-built quay.  (And SuperU and Aldi within 200m which is handy!)  As the weather continued to be truly awful, we decided to stay the night in the hope that tomorrow would be better.

It wasn’t!!

But obviously we needed to keep moving.  All this rain has meant that the water level in the canal is higher than it was when we last did it coming south in the summer of 2010, so we have kept coming across unexpected ROFFs!  They are all now marked up in the book and we’ve got the ‘quick roof-down, roof-up’ technique down to a fine art.

We moored for the night at the junction of the Nancy ‘embranchement’ which is now open, the landslide which had kept it closed for years having been removed.   We had been warned by some Swiss hirers that the mooring for plaisance a short distance away was not only closed for the winter but mooring there at all was interdit!  Not sure why, but apparently we would be attacked by a mad old woman if we tried!

With some regret we decided not to do the embranchement to Nancy this time as the weather was decidedly iffy and so was Louise’s back.  Instead, we made a beeline for Toul and arrived mid-afternoon in a patch of sunshine.

The rain returned later and it hasn’t stopped since!!  But we are here now, and other than possibly having to change our mooring position when the port capitaine comes in tomorrow and determines where he wants us, we are well settled in our winter mooring, complete with water, electricity and wifi included.

Port 2, l’Ardoise to Lyon

So! Here at last is an update of the blog.  It has been a somewhat torrid time since our last post as will become apparent in the following.

We left Port 2, l’Ardoise nearly a week after Alex’s release from captivity to allow him to recover from his hospitalisation (appendix op) and set off north again up the Rhone.  At our first evening’s lock mooring we were joined by an Irish couple, Joe and Anne, of “ESS DEE AY” (don’t ask!) who breasted up with us. They insisted on drinks with us in the evening followed by a joint supper and more drinks.

Alex, not long out of hospital, felt it was all a bit too much but hey, ho, it was a jolly evening!  The next day we waited till the stiff wind abated a bit before setting off and had a short hop to Chateaufeuf Lock where we moored on the topside plaisance mooring behind two commercial peniche who were moored for the weekend on the ducs d’Albes just ahead.  They were all having fun swimming in the warm water and when it was clear we were having difficulty coming alongside the pontoon because of the offshore wind one of them took our rope and with some difficulty popped it round a cleat on the pontoon.

The next couple of nights were passed without incident though Alex was feeling noticeably more and more tired at the end of each day.

We had hoped to moor on a sand quay near St Vallier which had provided a perfect mooring for us on the way south 2 years ago, but as we neared it we saw that it was festooned with fishermen – so many that we felt daunted at the prospect of trying to moor there at all, so we carried on hoping for the ducs d’Albes round the corner.  We could see immediately that they’d be too far apart for us and at the same time we spied a new pontoon, installed since we came down, about 1km upstream and empty!  We made a bee-line for it and it was perfect: north end of St Vallier, next to a campsite and sturdy, with a “Welcome to Moor” sign!

We had decided to delay leaving the next day till after lunch for a short restful day’s cruising, but at about 12 o’clock we got a text from Ced and Suzie who were driving south on the motorway, asking us where we were.  We texted back to tell them to take the very next motorway exit and they would be with us in less than half an hour.  So we had a lovely lunch with them and after they had gone we decided to delay our departure till the next day instead!

Approaching the little port of Ampuis, just downstream of Lock Vaugris, we saw a jet-ski floating down the river with the two riders hanging on, swimming behind it.  We stopped and offered help.  They took our rope and we set off again slowly to take them back upstream to their launch site.

Just then however, a motor launch appeared creaming up river behind us.  Louise gesticulated to it and indicated the stricken jet-ski but to no avail.  They shot past us putting up a two foot high wake.  Riccall bounced all over the place: the jetski tipped onto its side dropping the guys back into the water and when we eventually got them sorted out again and Louise popped downstairs, she found the carpets in both bathrooms and dining area soaked by the wash coming in through the portholes.

You don’t usually get that sort of behaviour on the canals and rivers.  We never have before.  Our portholes are often open while we’re cruising in hot weather (though never in DOWN locks) as occasionally we’ve had a bit of water in through the portholes when descending old leaky locks but never like this.

When we got to the lock the launch was in front of us on the plaisance mooring but we had to moor too far behind for Alex to vent his spleen.   The boat was flying French, Spanish and Italian flags at the stern so that probably explains it!

The evening of the next day saw us on a good pontoon mooring at Chavanay.  Two small boats had vacated it just as we arrived.  Good timing we thought!

On the following afternoon we reached Vienne where again we had no problem mooring but there was no signal for our dongle for us to keep abreast of the debits (flow rates) on the Rhone ahead, so when we left the next day and almost immediately discovered a 3G signal, we were able to check the flow rate at Pierre-Benite Lock, Lyon.  It was just half the lowest rate it had been for the last two weeks, so we simply had to take advantage of it.  Pierre-Benite can be one of the most difficult locks to approach from the south because the flow rate can be incredibly high – too much for us – so this looked like a good sign!  Go for it!

We arrived on the town quay in Lyon at about 3.30pm having taken on fuel on the way up and Alex once again, exhausted, went to bed, and virtually stayed there most of the next day.

Monday dawned, and Alex had already decided that something, not just tiredness, must be wrong with him, possibly connected to the appendectomy.  So we contacted the new port in Lyon and asked if they had a space for us which mercifully they did.  We took the boat downstream the 2 kms to the port and booked in.  Christoph, the port Capitaine, was very helpful and spoke English.  He was able to explain how to get to the hospital.

At the hospital triage was held within 15 mins of arrival but 6 hours later the verdict was that Alex had to be admitted – he had acute kidney failure!

Eventually, after nearly 4 weeks in hospital, it was deemed OK for him to return to Riccall, provided we stayed in the port for another week to 10 days for further tests and an outpatient clinic.  During the 4 weeks of his stay Alex was greatly heartened by visits from Peter and Nicci of AURIGNY who came down by motor bike from St Symphorien where their boat was moored.  They had just returned from a 2 month visit to the UK where Peter had been co-opted back into his former police-escort role for the duration of the Olympic Games.  They brought with them their laptop so Alex was able to see their amazing slide show of Olympic scenes. 

The following week Ced and Suzie were passing in PEABODY on their way north and stayed in the port for a couple of nights so were able to drop by to visit Alex, as were our narrowboating friends Mike and Jean who were driving down through France on their way to the Med for a holiday.  Mike and Jean dropped by again on their way north after their holiday.  So all in all Alex did quite well for visitors, bearing in mind this all happened in France!

At first Alex shared a two-bedded ward, but the other two patients who each came and went after a few days, don’t bear mentioning, so awful were they, but then Alex was moved to a single bed ward for the rest of his stay and that was just great.

But now, the blood tests have been done, the out-patient clinic attended and now we have been given the green light to sail once more.  Medications and tests must continue and be monitored to make sure things continue to improve but hopefully in a few months Alex may be fully back to normal.

Meanwhile, Louise has been doing a sterling job, keeping Riccall ticking over, visiting Alex twice a day in hospital and getting to know the environs of Lyon.

The transport system in this city is one of the most comprehensive and best we have ever encountered.  We can buy a week’s unlimited travel on all modes of transport – trams, underground, overground, buses, funiculars - all for €16.60.  Some of the trams and trains run every 2 minutes!  Amazing!  10 minutes is the longest we have waited for anything, anywhere, so far and we have been everywhere – to the furthest ends of each track of course, whether tram or underground, and on trolley buses and the river navette too.  All are clean, quiet and comfortable, even the buses.

The other spur for at last putting pen to paper for this blog is that Alex has had his first alcoholic drink in 7 weeks tonight – not much, but just enough the loosen the scribe in him!!

Aigues-Mortes to Port 2, l’Ardoise

We set off the following morning towards St Gilles.  At the junction with the bypass canal Louise suddenly spotted a commercial approaching from our left.  Oh Hell, brakes on, come to an almost-halt and let it proceed in front of us – at 5kmh.

Oh well, we are rarely in a hurry, but after a while a small hire boat came up behind us.  We motioned it to overtake us and indicated that they could overtake the commercial even if we couldn’t.  They passed us, then proceeded to sit between us and the commercial going even slower than the big boy!  What is going on?  A couple of hours later we were at Gallician passing a rather smart looking motor yacht when we spotted a vacant hotel boat mooring.  We jammed on the brakes to stop for lunch and the lady from the yacht WARRIOR kindly came along to take our ropes.  We learned that WARRIOR was built 100 years ago in 1912 and had been one of the ‘Little Ships’ to help evacuate Dunkirk.  Alex had a chat with David and Fiona who explained that they had bought the boat about 18 months before as a sunken wreck and hard worked night and day to refit her.  They were on their way to Spain, but had cooling problems on one of the twin engines so needed a lift-out, but what a beautiful looking boat!

By the time we set off again the commercial was well away and we got to St Gilles lock in good time.

We told the eclusier that we hoped to moor about 2k upstream of the Petit Rhone at the tiny mooring we had used on the way down, and that if it wasn’t vacant he would see us again shortly!  He seemed quite happy with that.

It was empty so we gratefully moored up and noticed that the entirely decrepit wooden steps which we had climbed gingerly 2 years ago had been replaced with a brand new set of steel steps.

The next day we had a leisurely breakfast on deck in beautiful balmy weather and were interested to see a helicopter flying pretty low over us.  The helicopter was so close that that we could see the pilot.  We waved enthusiastically and he waved to us and did the helicopter equivalent of dipping his wings in greeting!  (He turned briefly right then briefly left to give the impression of a gesture.)  Our next short cruise got us to a similar tiny mooring under the Fourques suspension bridge near Arles (which by some miracle was also vacant).  AURIGNY had moored here 2 years ago and recommended it, apart from the clunk, clunk, clunk of the bridge overhead.  And by jove, was he right!!

It took a bit of work with extra ropes to shore before we felt we were moored well enough, then we man and woman-handled the bikes off the boat, but as it had to be from near the front to reach onto the pontoon it was no easy task, and cycled into Arles.

We had missed Arles on the way down the Rhone 2 years ago, and didn’t at that stage realise what we were missing.  We had since learned that Arles, of course, has an amphitheatre that is rated one of the top 20 in Europe so we were keen to see it.  It did not disappoint!  The French have done quite a lot of refurbishment here, but we thought it was justified and well worth it.  There is a great deal of ancient building still in existence in the old quarter of Arles and well worth a wander through on our trusty bikes.  We got back to the boat at about 5pm. And the main downside of this mooring became truly apparent at rush hour!  The noise from the bridge as cars went over the separate plates that make up the road surface was a bit like a train going over joints in the rails but 10 times worse.

We were glad to be moving on the next day, but also amazed that overnight the river level had dropped by at least 2ft (60cms).

We decided to give Avignon a miss and instead moored on the plaisance pontoon at Avignon écluse.

In the morning it was very windy and Alex woke with a slight queasiness in his stomach.  He put it down to anxiety due to the strong winds we would have to put up with on the Rhone – 40kph gusting to 60kph.

And indeed it was pretty bad.  The north wind was whipping up small waves of about 30cm which were crashing into our bluff bow and the spray was being carried the length of the boat.  As we hit each wavelet, the boat slowed momentarily making us move forward in a series of jerks.

Eventually, after a couple of hours of this we made a joint decision to put into Port 2 at l’Ardoise if there was room.  A quick call to Ariane and yes, the visitor quay was empty and we were welcome.

An hour later we were moored up in the same place as we had been on the way south in this pleasant sheltered port away from the bustle of the Rhone itself but with a few dumb barges being loaded up with gravel ever day to give some interest.

Alex:-

I woke up on the Sunday morning and I felt as though I had enough wind in my stomach to fill a hot air balloon!  Louise offered to massage my tummy to see if it could be moved on – and out.   After a few minutes her gentle massage moved to my right side and I nearly jumped off the bed.  Youch!  So now we started to worry as we both realised these were the text-book symptoms of appendicitis.  Louise talked to Ariane the port Capitaine and together they decided to call an ambulance.  I gave it about 15 minutes and then started to slowly dress.  Ariane appeared on the walkway beside the boat as I lowered myself down gingerly.  She looked aghast as ambulances are, we discovered later, for those unable to walk.  She had thought I was totally incapacitated and the ambulance crew were going to carry me the 50 metres along the walkway and 15m up the steps to the car park.  That would have been very difficult and I could still walk, so very carefully I made my way to the car park under my own steam.

Meanwhile, Louise was collecting together everything I might need in hospital – just in case.  The ambulance arrived and put me into the back on a stretcher and off we went

Frankly the journey to the ‘Urgences’ department (our A & E) going over all the bumps and speed humps was far worse than getting off the boat and up to the car park!

We arrived at ‘Urgences’, I was signed in and we settled down for the inevitable wait.  A couple of hours later (no triage in this French hospital) I was wheeled into a treatment room and bloods were taken.  An hour later (after the result of the blood tests) I was wheeled off to the CRT scanner.  An hour later the on-call surgeon came to see me to tell me he would operate shortly.  I said, “But it is Sunday and your day off: don’t you want to wait till tomorrow?”  He said, “But it is my job and I have one other operation to do first, more serious than you.  Do you want to die?”  We all laughed and I said No I didn’t.

A bit later the Chef de Service (whatever that is) popped his head round the door.  He was on his mobile in the middle of a conversation and without a pause in what he was saying and with his free hand, he prodded my stomach: I yelped: he walked out!  What sort of diagnosis was that?

In due course, I was taken up to the ward, had a disinfectant shower and donned the universal hospital shift.  By this time it was about 7pm and I told Louise to go back to the boat by taxi: there was no point in her waiting around for hours, and I would text her when I could, or she could ring in later to see how I was doing.

Then I was wheeled up to the operating theatre on a gurney. 

After getting all their gear together the anaesthetist said, “Right we are ready to go.”  I said, “Just a minute: I am not asleep yet!”  He just laughed and said, “Don’t worry: we don’t usually start the operation until after we have put the patient to sleep!”  After about 10 minutes the surgeon reappeared and they put me under.

I came to in my 3-bedded ward a couple of hours later and sent a text to Louise to say I was back in the land of the living.  I had a morphine and a saline drip and things were not too bad.

Breakfast the following morning was apple puree (yuk) and/or natural yoghurt (even more yuk!)  I couldn’t face either.  Lunch was the same with the added delight of a bouillon soup, what I guess would have been called beef tea once upon a time, but in this case it tasted like as I magine dish-water would taste!  Supper the same, and breakfast, lunch and supper on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.  Thus I wasn’t eating much! 

The climb down on Monday when they stopped the morphine was awful.  I was hallucinating for two days with nausea thrown in at intervals.  Every time I closed my eyes I had images of a different room floating around with brightly coloured beasts and such like inhabiting it.  And when my eyes were open the edges of all the door frames and tables had little waving hairs all over them.  And when I was staggering to the loo in the semi-dark I kept having to wade through non-existent furniture made out of knitted string or wire!

By Tuesday my guts were beginning to produce wind which cheered the nurses and doctors up a bit but in the early hours of Thursday morning I stopped passing the wind but was still madly producing it.  I called the nurse who set up a paracetamol drip and said that was the best they could do for me.  Meanwhile my gut was expanding by the minute and I had visions of myself exploding all over the ward like something out of Monty Python!

I sent a desperate text to Alice asking for advice.  No immediate reply.  Unfortunately, after a double shift at work (no doubt anaesthetising other unfortunates) she was completely zonked out and eventually replied to me at about 9am in the morning, but nevertheless a most informative reply.

Then half an hour later a different nurse appeared to remove the empty sachet of paracetamol and feeling my swollen tummy announced, “C’est normale.  Pas de problem”.  Well, why didn’t they say that before?  Then things started to move again later in the morning.  Trouble is when you don’t speak the language very well and you don’t understand what is going on you do tend to panic.  Well, I do anyway!  And Louise couldn’t be with me 24 hours a day to help with all this.

So the surgeon said on his round later, “You don’t seem to be eating very much” and I replied that I hadn’t been offered anything very tempting!  He gave a sympathetic look and said that I could have something better that night.  This turned out to be the usual yoghurt and apple puree (believe it or not) but with a starter of noodle soup (at least it had no taste) then Lo and Behold! creamed potato with a slice of excellent ham.  Food, glorious food!

A good last night, a proper French breakfast then my release papers, my get-out-of-jail card.

Meanwhile during all this Louise had been out hiring cars, keeping Riccall going, and most important of all, sitting with me for hours keeping me company, maintaining my spirits and lending a sympathetic ear to all my moans – a tour de force!

So endeth my first introduction to the French health system.”

Now Alex is out, and we have been to the chemist to pick up 8 syringes of anti-coagulant which has to have to have, one a day for 8 days.  We mis-interpreted the prescription for the anticoagulant thinking that we had to attend a pharmacy where the pharmacist would be doing the injections each day, so we had booked the car for an extra week in order to be able to get to the nearest pharmacy.  Of course as soon as we got there the pharmacist handed over the syringes explaining we had to do it ourselves!  I believe the current expression is OMG!!!

We decided to keep the car anyway for a few days and use it to visit some of the historic sights and sites nearby.  First off was the Pont du Gard (a Roman aqueduct) which entirely lived up to expectations.  The second was the Théatre Antique at Orange which we felt price-wise was a bit of a rip-off.  We decided not to pay the €8.50 each but instead climbed the rough path at the back of the site, at the top of which was a perfect view of the whole thing. (Louise – and this just two days after getting out of hospital! Well you all know Alex!)

In some ways Alex felt it was less impressive than the one at Vienne and certainly not a patch on the Amphitheatre at Arles.

One of the other missions, while having the car, has been to buy a replacement camera as the 2-year-old one from Aldi has finally stopped working altogether.  One year of its guarantee still to run, but no way of sending it off AND getting it back while we are on the move.  You’ll be pleased to hear that the old one finally died just before Alex went into hospital, so no dreaded snaps of him suffering in his hospital bed!

Fortunately Carrefour had a Nikon L25 10.1 m.pixels for a very reasonable €69, which we bought, and we hope the pictures turn out to be as good or better than those hitherto.

So all-in-all a pretty exciting first 50kms of the Rhone – but not for the reasons we had expected!

Agde to Aigues-Mortes

We decided to spend another few nights at Agde above the round lock on the river.  We cycled off to see how Ced and Suzie were getting on but they were obviously up to their eyes with work so we didn’t stay long.  The survey had been good so they were preparing to de-rust where necessary and repaint.  They mentioned that they had seen Phoenician go past downstream so we popped down to their mooring to say hello to them.  Poor Peter and Marie-Michelle!  They had managed to get into dry dock on the Robine (we had passed them as we came up from Sallèles d’Aude and they were heading down towards it) and while there had swapped the bent 5-blade prop for the spare 4-bladed one.  But then, within a week they had managed to bend a blade on the 4-blade prop as well, so they were in Agde hoping to lift the rear end out of the water at Allemand’s boatyard and try to straighten it.

We had a drink with them, then moules frites (again) for lunch and cycled down to the beach for a bit of people-watching.

In the evening Brian (Wall) came for supper and to stay the night, having just dropped his wife Gill off at Montpellier airport.  Brian left in the morning and after a few minutes so did we, to cross the Etang du Thau.  It takes quite a time though to get through the lock and canal system before you get to the Etang itself, about 90 minutes or so, so as we approached the last bridge on the canal Alex was surprised to spot Brian and another man standing beside the canal on the old bridge pier.  As we approached Louise went out to say hello???  “Left my phone”, said Brian, so Louise dashed back into the wheelhouse, spotted it on the worktop, rushed back out and just managed to hand it to him as we sailed past!  We don’t know yet how long he had been waiting there for us!

The crossing went without a hitch and there seemed to be just about one or two other boats on the whole étang.

We found a good mooring in Frontignan, but it proved to be rather smelly (no doubt why that position was empty!) as it was right beside a sewage outlet – so when the boat in front moved on we moved into his slot – much sweeter.

We cycled into Sete to suss out the dry dock which we knew was there – still trying to find a suitable yard for our survey.  It had a lift machine mechanism, very much like the one that had lifted PEABODY but bigger and capable of 200 ton lifts.  The trouble was that it was much more expensive and any work would have had to be organised by us using outside contractors.  Additionally, there was no English spoken at all and although we can manage OK with our rocky French in normal circumstances, for technical stuff we don’t have sufficient vocabulary.  We felt it was all too difficult to consider, but it had been good to get a look at Sète’s harbours and some of the old town.

On the way back we stopped for some milk and groceries at an épicerie and noticed a shoe shop was starting its sale the very next day.  Now Louise isn’t devoted to shoes unlike some women, as her friends can attest, but shoes were urgently required for a special occasion so, after we had taken Riccall through the lift bridge the next day at 8.30, we moored on the other side of it and jumped on the bikes and cycled the 8 kms back to the shoe shop in Sete!  Sad to say there was nothing suitable, so we cycled back to the boat – just the 8kms again!

Next day we set off for either Maguellone or Palavas.  Well, Maguellone had plenty of space so we moored there and in the afternoon cycled on to Palavas (where there was no space, so a good call).  We had enjoyed our stay at Palavas nearly two years ago as we came in the other direction so we had been looking forward to a repeat.  No such luck though, as after that first lovely afternoon the weather turned and for the next couple of days there was a sort of sea ha, sea fret, or low cloud, whatever you like to call it, which enveloped everything in a rather unpleasant stickiness.  We set off in this nasty weather for Aigues-Mortes where a friend of friends, Roger, on his boat ARGONAUTE had arranged a mooring for us.  He had said, “Two boats beyond mine is an old dilapidated jetty which will be OK for you for a couple of days, until we leave on our boat, and you can move into our spot.”

Well!  When we arrived it was indeed a dilapidated jetty which was about 3 metres too short for Riccall.  So Roger frantically moved a small, semi-abandoned day boat alongside another similar boat in front and we JUST managed to squeeze in.  We had to knock in pins to secure to, the stern was 3 metres from the shore and the only way off the boat was to climb down the front using the portholes and rubbing strake!  Not very satisfactory and of course no services.

However, Alex explained to Roger that his pregnant daughter Alice was visiting a couple of days later on the Tuesday, and would it be OK to move to the inside of ARGONAUTE that day, so that she could get on board?  It would also be easier for Roger to sail away two days later if we did the move then.  This we did and on the Tuesday Alice and Mark arrived and we had a jolly evening and supper.  Next day we all went for a walk round the walled town in the morning before they left at lunchtime to return their hire car to Avignon SNCF station and catch their train back north.  Still it was lovely to see them, if only briefly, and we would see them again at the wedding in a few days’ time.

That left us with one day to prepare for our own departure for England and to trawl the local market for previously-mentioned vital pair of shoes - and hurrah! – there they were.  Roger kindly ordered us a taxi for the next day to the airport at Montpellier for our flight back for Alex’s son William’s wedding to Laura.

It all went like clockwork (despite the plane leaving late) and we got the bus from Leeds/Bradford airport to Harrogate, picked up the car in Knaresborough where our trusty mechanic Matt had left it, then drove home to Newton Aycliffe.  Up to Chillingham Castle on Friday, wedding in the clouds on Saturday, Holy Island for a picnic with David, Bun, Ric, Emily and Herbie on Sunday, then back to N A for supper with Jamie and Janine!!  Phew!

We arrived at the gates of Chillingham Castle and drove down the rough drive until we arrived at what was obviously the back of the castle.  It looked totally deserted and as though it had long since been abandoned!  So we drove back to the entrance gates and Alex tried to telephone all his children, all of whose phones were on answer.  He then telephoned the castle office, which of course was closed because it was after 5pm.  Maybe there’s another entrance, we thought.  We drove round the wall, and did indeed find another entrance which brought us back to the same place as before, but this time Alex noticed a little courtyard with cars in it.  Sitting in the car wondering what to do next, we saw Will’s face at one of the windows and yes, we must have arrived!  We then discovered that the reason that none of the mobiles was answering was that the castle itself was in a complete signal black-spot but the signal re-appeared at the gate!!

Sure enough, our room was in the guard-house, which although a bit musty, in true castle style, was fine for us.  Unfortunately we had forgotten it was a self-catering apartment, so had to nip off rather sharply into Wooler to buy in supplies!  Family supper at the local hostelry was very good and the following day we were able to explore the castle, the museum, the dungeons and the gardens, all regrettably rather shrouded in low cloud. (It was sunny in Alnwick not 10 miles away too!).  The wedding itself was lovely, the cloud lifted for aperitifs and photos in the garden, and the medieval banquet which followed was just splendidly meaty!    (Unfortunately our camera totally messed up and is now caput, so we are waiting for wedding photos from the official photograher - watch this space!)

During the next few days both Alex and Louise had to fit in trips to dentists, talks with financial advisors, prescription collections, doctors etc etc, then it was the journey in reverse.  But in the meantime Alex had developed food poisoning or a virus and was having to fit in multiple trips to the loo as well as all the other appointments!  The night before the flight drastic measures were called for - bring on the Immodium - which worked for the next day’s flight and beyond.

We got back to Riccall at Aigues-Mortes to find that Roger and Anne-Marie on ARGONAUTE had left, but the next day they rang to say they had just done a quick trip to Agde and would be returning to the mooring.  By this time the water level had dropped to the extent that we were firmly aground (and over the next few days the level dropped even further so that the starboard side of Ricccall was eventually sitting out 12" above her water line).  This is a lot, and it made it pretty uncomfortable aboard with all the floors sloping so much and the bedroom drawers sliding out, but we knew it was not for long as both ARGONAUTE and then RICCALL would be setting off up the Rhone in a day or two.  And the important thing was that now that ARGONAUTE was coming back for a few days she could pull us off the mud when she left.

It took a bit of doing but eventually we were off the mud and on an even keel as we said goodbye to Roger and Anne-Marie and re-moored Riccall for our last night at Aigues-Mortes – well off the bank and with a rather precarious plank for getting on and off but only for one night.

Homps to Agde

We left Homps and moored up at Ventenac, a lovely mooring quay with Cave directly accessible!  Shortly afterwards an interesting barge called PISGAH went past and we hailed the owner, who came for an apéro later in the evening.  Jules Whitaker’s father had owned BEECLIFFE, another Sheffield barge which had been in France some 20 years ago, and a photograph of it is in our copy of David Edwards-May’s book ‘Barging in France’.  We have often wondered about BEECLIFFE and suddenly the son of the owner was having drinks with us.  What a treat!  He remembered the boat well and said that it was now back in the UK – renamed.  He also, true to his word, emailed later that night with details of a company which will deliver fuel to the canal side.

We had fun watching two hotel barges turning round just beyond the bridge in front of us and as the second one was doing his turn, a hire boat went through the bridge, not realising that he was going to be entirely in the way.  He then proceeded to fiddle about getting in the way even more, rather than just turning round and coming back through the bridge to wait for the peniche to finish his manoeuvre.

Oh and yes - we also managed to buy another 5 litres of red and rosé ‘en vrac’ at the nearby cave!

A couple of days later we were at Sallèles D’Aude on the Jonction Canal which links the Canal du Midi with the Canal de Robine and Port la Nouvelle on the Mediterranean coast.  Sadly, our draft is too deep to go beyond Sallèles d’Aude so we caught the bus to Narbonne and then the train out to Port la Nouvelle – a typical end of the world seaside port.  But the train journey is fascinating – through the very middle of the étang (seawater lake) much of the time alongside the canal.

The whole area is sometimes affected by the floodwaters of the Robine river, so there are levées and floodgates protecting the town and on one notable occasion the whole town was flooded to a considerable depth – witness the photo of the mark on the side of a house!

We had met Sandra and Graham Coates on a boat called HODI when they came up from Port La Nouvelle and moored next to us in Sallèles.  They had been moored up for 2 or 3 days at P la N and a péniche close to them had mysteriously ‘sunk’ overnight after the VNF had told it to move on!  When we got there, there it was, still sitting on the bottom!

We also popped into Sallèles town and managed to arrange for red and while diesel to be delivered via the local BP garage about 100 metres from the port.  Thanks to Peter and Nicci of AURIGNY for that tip. And we bought another 5 litres of red and rosé from the local cave!

At La Croisade we had promised ourselves a really nice meal in the restaurant close to the moorings, so when we arrived and all were full, we were at first disappointed and then determined that we would manage to moor, somehow.  So initially we tried to moor between a 15m cruiser with one Frenchman on board and COLIBRI the hotel barge with a whole host of guests on board.  This failed due to the wind and nobody to take a rope!  So we moved ahead of COLIBRI and a couple of kind Australian guests took our ropes and we managed to get moored up, but not very adequately as we realised the concrete structure sticking out from the bank was going to rub against our hull every time a boat went past, despite the usual measures – tyres etc. so we decided after much thought, and many passing boats that we would have to move – yet again.  Later in the evening COLIBRI had herself moved on, so with some difficulty and help from a hire-boater and a passing Frenchman we moved back past the little sail boat MARY LOU and into the spot where COLIBRI had been.  We chatted to the Frenchman and his wife, who pressed upon us their address and telephone number for when we are in Avignon, with strict instructions to call them and arrange a meeting!

We had an excellent supper in the restaurant that night and realised that one of the other guests was the newly-arrived owner of the MARY LOU, having supper with his two young children.

The next day it was time for us to leave.  The sail boat owner came over to us to say that he wanted to move his boat as he was aware he was moored in the ‘Passenger Boat’ moorings and asked were we leaving?  He had, however, just started breakfast, so we said we were going, but we would manage to get around MARY LOU OK.

Well!  We pushed the bows well out with the barge pole and started forward, expecting to be able to make a gentle move away from the shore.  But it was one of those occasions when things conspire against you.  In theory the wind should have helped us to get further out and the angle looked good but as soon as we started to move forwards the bows swung towards the sail boat.  Louise went to drop a fender between us and the sail boat but the owner said. “No!  She’s very delicate” and tried to push us away – all 75 tons!  Alex put the rudder hard over to keep the stern away from his boat, which largely succeeded in keeping us clear (despite putting the bows hard into the bank in front of him) but he was not a happy man and even said we had scuffed his paintwork which he had just spent €11,000 having re-done!  Alex apologised profusely and the boat owner rather surprisingly had the grace to admit that it was only a boat after all.  But it did leave a rather sour (if guilty) taste in the mouth.  We can only think that there must have been an underwater ridge which forced Riccall back into the side because the way the angles and wind were, there should have been no problem.  Our only other consolation is that MARY LOU was moored on the ‘Reservé pour Bateaux de Passagers’ section, and had been effectively abandoned there for some time!

We spent a night at the eastern end of the Malpas tunnel having unwittingly arrived at about 2pm when the tide of trip boats from Béziers was at its height!  Rather unnerving at the time, but the night was quiet and peaceful and we then set off with some misgivings for the Béziers flight (of 6 locks).  This went without trouble: the éclusier from hell (female) was not on duty – we rather hope she has been sacked since we passed through in September 2010 - we had plenty of help from the bystanders and we were descending, which is always much easier anyway.  So into the port of Béziers where we spent a few nights and ‘did’ the usual little tourist train round the town.

Béziers port is actually very big and rather pleasant, but when you have a good look at the signage, you realise that most of the perfect stone quay is now reserved for hotel barges or trip boats, or otherwise restricted.  There is barely any room at all for ‘normal’ boats and it’s certainly very poor for barges of our size: added to which, there are now no services at all, where once there had been both water and electricity.  All the bournes have been disconnected and probably later vandalised.

However, it was nice to meet Roger and Linda from a boat called GEEP which had fascinated us: a Dutch pilot boat built about 1920 with twin Gardner 8 cylinder engines.  What a boat!  Totally seaworthy with a top speed of about 13 knots.  We had them over for drinks (of course) and were offered the guided tour which we gladly accepted.  GEEP was up for sale and the prospective buyer was coming to view and the boat, which had been unoccupied for several weeks needed a full going-over, so we kept our visit short.  But it was fascinating.

At Villeneuve-les-Beziers we were staggered to see the change in what had been one of our favourite places.  Instead of the typical Canal du Midi tree-lined vista, all that’s left are sandy banks where the trees once were.  Yes, re-planting will begin next year, but the devastation is just terrible.

We came across IBAIA moored a little way along the left bank, just at the end of the moorings belonging to the campsite.  Don and Di had managed, with a very long lead, to get electricity.  We moored alongside them for a few minutes while we sussed out the scene.  They very kindly moved back a couple of metres and we slipped in in front.  Naturally they had drinks with us and we had drinks with them over the next couple of days and very convivial it was too.  We also managed to piggyback for electricity through their supply which was very helpful in our constant battle with the batteries.  But, and we have a question here!  Why is it that the disco at the campsite started at midnight and finished, eventually, at 5.30am!!!

We were also amused to see a very long bicycle cavalcade along the good towpath on the opposite side from us: it must have included the whole of the local junior school with 8-12 year olds on a variety of bikes, with the cycling teachers shepherding them all at intervals along the procession. 

At Vias - our next port of call - there was amazingly enough, a space for us near to the only working bourne for electricity, but only a few metres longer than our 19m  - always a cause for some consternation, at least on Louise’s part.  However, we nosed in and Louise started to prepare a rope from our middle bollard to the post on shore as the spacing was such that this would give us a nice controlled entry.  At this point, a man appeared from his boat SANITY at our rear end and kindly dropped the rope over the post for us.  So far so good.  BUT Geoff, as we later discovered he was called, then proceeded to give Alex instructions as to how he should go about mooring Riccall! at one point even with the words, “DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID?” when Alex ignored him and did what he always does when mooring this way.  Just unbelievable, and he has just a little 12m cruiser too!  He must have thought we had just bought Riccall yesterday!  Alex doesn’t often get cross and shows it even less, but here was an occasion when if he hadn’t been busy getting moored up in a tight spot, he might have felt like resorting to violence!

However, that wasn’t our only problem at Vias.  We had picked up another unwanted something on the propeller at the previous lock and although it wasn’t affecting performance too much, it was clanking away as the propeller turned.  So once we had the mooring ropes on good and tight, it was out with the boarding plank and winch, to try and remove what turned out to be a length of electric cable and some fencing wire from the prop.  This time it only took an hour!

We also had a visit from Barry of BALESTRA who was moored at Vias also – just after the bridge before the port proper started. 

That first night being a Friday, we had rather expected some noise from the camp site alongside – perhaps a disco like at Villeneuve or here the last time we were at Vias in 2010, and we did get some noise but not what we expected.  All was quiet until about 2am when we were woken by the sound of much shouting and banging.  Eventually Alex went up to investigate (surreptitiously).  What he saw was a bare-chested man of about 35 kicking the hell out of a car parked outside the camp site.  At the same time he was shouting all sorts of obscenities and several ‘Ca va’s.  Alex watched for a while and the man eventually moved off down the road still yelling and hitting whatever happened to be within reach – rubbish bins, telephone kiosk!   This went on for a further hour then things calmed down.

We later learned that the man had had a bust-up with his wife and although the police had been called early on in the fracas, it had taken them an hour to arrive and take the chap away.

A couple of days later we set off again and moored on the Hérault river at Agde, just round the corner from the famous round lock.  We knew that Ced and Suzie in PEABODY were also in Agde but we weren’t quite sure just where.  Poor Ced: while single-handing PEABODY in rather windy conditions several days before, the boat had been caught by a gust of wind at one of the arched bridges and went off-line, causing the wheelhouse roof to hit the bridge and be all but removed.  By luck John and Linda of LIBERTY were in the vicinity and together with several other boaters, they had all managed to cobble the roof back into a reasonable position.  Now Ced and Suzie were at Allemand’s in Grau d’Agde about to have PEABIODY lifted out of the water and a complete new wheelhouse constructed.   We cycled down from our moorings and watched and took ropes where appropriate as PEABODY was lifted out and placed in the boatyard on suitable supports.  We offered them ‘respite’ after a very stressful day – a meal and overnight stay on RICCALL which we all enjoyed and they crept out at 7am ready for a day of jet washing the hull! 

They have been incredibly lucky to find a slot in this very capable boatyard for the work at such short notice, so are taking the opportunity to clean off the hull, have a survey and re-paint and can also leave the boat there while they return to UK for their planned month’s visit in July.  We considered trying for the same opportunity, as we still need our survey and hull re-paint, but although the lift is said to be able to handle 100 tons, we were more than a little doubtful that it could handle RICCALL, and anyway, with PEABODY there they would be hard pushed to fit us in as well!

We were just about to leave RICCALL on another sortie on our bikes when we saw a boat called SIRIUS passing.  We knew Walt and Gail of LES VIEUX PAPILLONS, our mooring neighbours at Buzet, were helping to bring SIRIUS down to the Midi from the north, so there was some frantic waving between us and we jumped on the bikes to catch up with them at the round lock.  Much chatting, photos, exchange of news etc. followed.  Good to see Walt and Gail again.

So now we have travelled 6kms up the river Hérault to a restaurant with mooring pontoon and electricity for just €6 per night.  We will stay here for a few days before setting off for the crossing of the Etang du Thau and our onward journey but one thing we have done while here is to cycle to the head of navigation where there are the remains of a Roman bridge and an old watermill.

Gardouch to Homps

At last the rain stopped and although there wasn’t much sun at least it was high, unthreatening cloud.  We left Gardouch for an uneventful trip to Port Lauragais.  We nosed into the basin which had been constructed at the same time as the A62 motorway, which runs alongside, and the Aire de Lauragais service area.  The facilities are shared by both boaters and drivers so it’s a busy place.

The gap between a cruiser and a couple of small breasted-up sailing dinghies was about 19m and we are a bit more when the rudder is included so as the wind blew us sideways toward the quay Louise shouted to a couple of lads working on the quay to ask if they would move the dinghies along a bit which they did, thank goodness! giving us just enough space to come alongside.

We cycled up to Ricquet’s Monument again, which is only about 5kms from this mooring, and this time Alex was determined to get inside the surrounding wall and gate.  The spikes on the top of the gate looked more daunting than last time but we did a tour of the perimeter wall and three quarters of the way round discovered a large subsidence crack in the wall where one or two stones had fallen out.  This was climbable, so a break-in by Alex was quickly achieved.  Louise passed the camera through the bars of the gate and sat down to act as lookout while Alex mounted the steps to the monument itself and get some pictures.  Amazingly no tourists came while he was ‘inside’ and we were able to saunter away looking pretty innocent of breaking and entering.

The next day was warm and sunny and we arrived at Castelnaudary, where we discovered Sally and Mike on AILSA, so we invited them for supper – another put-it-together meal, which went down pretty well.  Also in the port was a barge called SIRIUS, which we had not seen since ‘Nervous Nev’ owned her at Methley Bridge in Castleford.  It was now under new ownership.

The other good thing we found was that the lock automation had not got further than the lock before Lock 17 ‘Ocean’ – the last ‘uphill’ lock.

The method by which this automation works is different from any other elsewhere in France.  The system is that you put your crew member off at the lock mooring point (difficult for us because of our depth and height above the pontoon) and he/she goes to the lock and presses the appropriate button on a podium to set the lock the right way for the gates to open and allow the boat to enter.  This means that as the driver you have nobody on board to confirm that you are coming straight into the lock, neither to one side or the other, and that verbal confirmation is very useful.  Then the person on the side of the lock presses the start button and has to control their rope from the shore instead of from the boat. This may be OK for light hire boats but is more difficult, more dangerous, and more likely to snag when dealing with heavy boats like ours.

The automation in the rest of France always allows remote setting up for the lock and usually allows the start of the operation to be done from the boat as well.

So we are glad to be ahead of the installation of this new system in this more easterly area, even if some of the still-employed lock keepers on these ‘downhill’ locks are a bit surly!

We were approaching a double lock after Castelnaudary and some way off Alex decided we really needed to slow down a bit.  Putting the boat into reverse there was a screaming noise from the prop and we were not slowing down much at all.  Lots more throttle in reverse and more noises aft and eventually we did manage to come to a halt more or less, and then line up and enter the lock.  We got through the two locks OK but there was obviously something caught on the prop, so we stopped on the lock mooring and as we often do if we have a problem, had lunch.

After lunch Alex got the boathook and prodding about the prop felt something rather rubbery.  Oh no – a tyre!

So we got the boarding plank and suspended one end just above the water from the back of the boat with the other end on the shore.  With Alex lying flat out on it he could just get his hands down far enough to feel . . . yes, a tyre, well wrapped round the prop.

Alex got the chain winch and hung that from the back of the boat.  Then with Louise pulling on the tyre with the boathook he was able to slip the chain-hook round the tyre and hook it back onto itself.  Then we could operate the winch and get half a ton of tension on the tyre.  THEN Alex could start sawing!  He had to use a ‘hardpoint’ wood saw as we discovered that we don’t have a full-sized hacksaw (can’t believe it) but after much sweat, swearing and a final heave on the block and tackle the type came apart and off the prop.  All in all about 2 hours hard graft and Alex had to lie down on the mooring quay to recover.  He’s not as young as he once was!  By the way, it was an old Michelin X and still had some tread on it, so Louise gave it to the eclusier saying, “Un cadeau pour vous, Monsieur!!”

We were very glad to get to the peaceful mooring at Villepoint which we had noted in our book on the way west and it was thankfully empty.  (Six sturdy posts beside the canal.)  But the next day Alex felt bruised from head to toe after his tyre-ing time.

We stopped at Port de Bram and cycled to the nearby village to see if we could do a little shopping.  Riding right through the village on the main road we saw a rather appealing little café/restaurant offering lunch and decided to declare a holiday and treat ourselves!  The ‘formule’ menu of three courses was salad, moules frites and dessert, to include a quarter litre each of local wine for €12.50.  The patronne was quite happy to serve just the moules frites and wine plus coffee at the end and it was the best moules frites we’ve ever had.  Just enough for a light lunch and the total bill €19.  Marvellous.  We have rarely come upon this kind of offering that people talk so much about in France so it was lovely to have such a delicious lunch.

But when she came to lay the table the patronne put out paper table mats which had an aerial photograph of the village on them and we saw that the village was built in a perfect circle round its church.  We had just ridden a tangent on our bikes and completely missed Bram’s main claim to fame!

So after lunch we started at the church in the middle and rode three concentric ring round the village, each one a circular ring of houses bigger than the one before.  Fascinating.

When we got to Carcassonne at 3pm Stephanie the capitaine came running out to say the mooring below the lock which we had booked, had been taken by a couple of hire boats, despite her RESERVÉ signs, and we should moor temporarily on the trip boat mooring pontoon above the lock. So we did that and 45 minutes later we noticed the hire boat people coming back to their boats and making to set off.

Louise telephoned Stephanie just to let her know that we would be able to move onto the reserved mooring now. And then she was out of the office and running across to the hire boats like a gazelle.  The reserved sign was quite clear and she had put notices on both boats asking their crew to report to the office when they returned.  They were just trying to do a runner, but we learned afterwards that Stephanie had got to them in time and made them pay.  Good for her!

So we spent three nights on the mooring, met one set of the new owners of AMAROK, lent them a portable fridge because they had broken theirs defrosting it (don’t ask!), met the owners Peter and Marie-Michelle of a beautiful looking barge called PHOENICIAN and watched the antics of a tramp who has taken up residence during the day on the benches near the mooring.

And another excitement with divers!  Phoenician had picked up something on the prop which was causing vibration and poor performance.  Marie-Michelle, French Canadian so fluent in French, had chatted to one of the female lockkeepers a day or two before and had invited her and her partner (also employed by VNF) for supper on PHOENICIAN.    This turned out to be a good move because the boyfriend organised the Sapeurs Pompiers (firemen) to provide a diver to investigate their prop problem.

The diver duly arrived and came up after a fairly short time with some old bits of rag which were on the prop and part of the problem, but also with the bad news that one of the blades was bent out of line.  It’s a rather special 5-bladed prop which Peter had specially designed for his boat and as he is hoping to return up the Rhone this year, he will have to find a dry dock and get it sorted.

At Trèbes, where we spent a peaceful night just before the town, Alex managed to find the local wine cave and get some good red and rosé wine in his 5-litre containers from the pistolet supply at €1 and €1.15 per litre!

But when we arrived at the first set of locks in the morning (a triple) there was quite a queue.  We were 5th in line, behind 4 hire boats.  The first three went down after an hour, by which time there was a hire boat behind us and behind that David appeared with CARMEN.

We helped him moor up – no easy task in the strong wind - and then discussed the wait.  Nobody else was going got get down the locks before the 12.30 – 1.30 lunch break.  At that moment a French woman from yet another hire boat, behind CARMEN, appeared and said she was a Le Boat employee delivering a boat.  Alex and David tried to explain to her that Alex was minded to let the 3 hire boats go down together and forfeit his place in the queue.  But she was so full of hell because of the delay that she refused to listen and stalked off.  So we thought, “Sod you! We will take our place in the queue anyway” and at 1.25 she was back trying to persuade the lockkeeper to let her through ahead but David, bless his socks, was there too, arguing against her.  So I’m afraid she ended up with her just desserts.

We were making our way towards Homps when suddenly we spied a tortoise on a floating log, also making its way towards Homps!  For once we managed to overtake something!

We are now at Homps where we arrived on Saturday afternoon after the Capitainerie had shut.  (High season, Saturday lunchtime and what do they do?  Shut down till Monday morning!!!)  The down side is that you need a special 32 amp plug adapter which we don’t have, to plug in for electricity, which normally you borrow on deposit from the Capitainerie, but the upside is that the mooring will be free till Monday.

And Alex, never one to be daunted, has managed to make a 32 amp adapter out of three of the pins from a 5-pin 3-phase plug which he had in stock, some circles of 1/2" MDF which he machined with the router and the blue plastic cap from an aerosol can.  At a brief glance, it looks pretty authentic, and works beautifully, so free electricity too!

Moissac to Gardouch

On our last day on the Tarn we set off up to the disused lock to give the engine a decent run (at the speed which will be needed on the Rhone) and also to practice deploying the anchor.  We laid out the anchor and chain and sat for a while with the engine off and the current flowing past the barge at about 2kph.  Then Louise could stand it no longer (not being a fan of anchoring) and Alex wound up the anchor.  What an effort!  He had to have a reset when it was out of the water, but not stowed, before he could finish the job!

We motored back down the Tarn and coming round a corner found a bevy of rowing boats had come up the river unknown to us.  I should think they wondered where we had come from, as they weren’t about when we went upstream and we had come from a disused lock!  Our average speed upstream and down for 1150 rpm came out at 10 kph.  In extremis we could probably hit 11 or 12kph.

We had met an English couple, Maria and Howell at the quay-side fish and chip night.  Most people  who are going to eat take their own picnic tables and chairs and gather on the quay for a jolly get-together beside the travelling fish and chip van – “Cod en Bleue”!!! -  and Maria had invited us with Ken and Rhonda to supper the next day.  So after our day on the river we went to their house in Moissac.  I’m sure they wouldn’t mind my saying that the outside of the house looked rather unprepossessing like many French houses, but what a fantastic job they had done on the inside and to the beautiful little enclosed patio garden at the back.  We had a lovely supper with plenty of convivial chat.

The following day we set off up the double lock from the Tarn on our return to our eastward travelling direction on the Garonne Lateral Canal.  Mark and Annie of Anna waved us off and took some nice photos as we emerged from the lock and entered the next one.

There is a group of 3 locks which operate in sequence a few kilometres out of Moissac and we knew the middle one had a bridge with very little airdraft, in addition to being an arched bridge as many are, but we had got through it before (if close) so knew we could do it, but care would be needed. 

These locks all have a severe bywash current which pushes the barge over to one side as you approach.  Last time we did this bridge we stopped with the bows of Riccall just in the entrance, let the current knock us over by 45^o then eased straight with plenty of rudder as we went in, to get the roof bang in the middle where it has to be to miss touching.  This time Alex decided to do it as per all the other locks with a bit of speed, to maintain a straight line.  The bows entered fine but as the wheelhouse approached, the stern was being pushed well off-line by the bywash current.  At the last minute Alex had to apply full rudder and full power to get to the centre of the bridge.  Phew! Missed our wheelhouse roof by half an inch!  (We still haven’t learned.)

We had another close call just before Grisolles (now there’s an enchanting name) – a bridge we had been under 3 times before, but perhaps the water level this time was higher.  Who knows?

Lock 7 l’Hers, was on double red as we approached but, as if by magic, a VNF van approached and got it going for us as we arrived.  We learned later that this lock never works (some major and irreparable problem obviously) and VNF have to intervene for each and every boat.  How they saw us we don’t know as there were no VNF vans around that day that we saw.  On the topside of the lock was NOORDSTER moored up so we stopped too and had lunch and a chat with Sam.  Sam was single-handing the barge down to the River Lot for the summer season.  Many English boats like to go onto the River Lot as it is very picturesque – and although this is certainly not the only reason, mooring, water and electricity are all free!

When we got to Toulouse, and to the l’Embouchure, a large wide open port on the outskirts of the city, there was a small ex-hire boat, JUNIPER, moored where we hoped to moor, behind SANCTANOX - the office peniche which had made us so welcome last year.  But there was just enough space to moor and Cliff from Juniper helped with our ropes. 

JUNIPER had gone through some shallow water on the other side of the port and had picked something up on the propeller and Cliff and Deb had been waiting 3 days for a diver to come and free the obstruction.  That afternoon the diver duly arrived with aqualung and all, and Alex was amused to see him cross himself before he plunged into the murky water.  After much wrestling with hacksaw and pliers etc he came up with the remains of a very old tyre which had been firmly attached to the propeller.  Alex and Cliff decided there was not enough tread on it to make it worth keeping!

But José and Camille of Sanctanox had welcomed us with open arms as we arrived and invited us all for an apéro that evening.

The next day JUNIPER left and Camille said we could plug into Sanctanox’s electricity supply and gave us the code to tap into their wifi as well.  So kind.

They came to us for drinks the following night at 6pm and 5 bottles later left at 10.30.  Alex, who had snaffled the lions share of the wine was OK the next day (probably still drunk) but very much the worse for wear the day after: so much so, that we had to decline José’s generous invitation to lunch with Camille and him at his business partner’s haute cuisine restaurant.  Oh dear, how very embarrassing!  (Alex promises he will never ever indulge again – till the next time! No, No!)  And we had stayed on two extra days on the promise of such a special lunch.  The restaurant J’Go sources all its ingredients from local suppliers, many of them in the adjacent Victor Hugo Marché which is the wonderful covered market Rick Stein highlighted when he visited Toulouse.

We set off from Toulouse on Saturday in windy but fine weather and got to the east side of the city and our hoped for mooring between two ‘stationnement’ peniches at Vic.  Later it started to rain and when we looked at the forecast it said rain the following morning then light showers for that afternoon, followed by two days of rain.  We decided to make a dash for Gardouch, so when the rain stopped at 11.30 we dropped the roof and set off.  There were a couple of spots of rain on our journey, but we reached Gardouch just in time and as we raised the roof again, the heavens opened! So we are here for two more days till it stops.  Will it ever stop?  It’s as bad or worse than being in the UK: maybe the same as in Wales or the Lake District – or are they still having a drought?

The plus side is that when we were last in Meilhan one of our close friends (no names given!) gave us the access code for the wifi in the house opposite this mooring.  She had talked with the charming lady who lives there when they stopped here many months ago and had been offered and accepted the code.  So we have been able to spend our ‘house-bound’ day entirely on the internet catching up with emails and other essential matters of admin.

Farewell to all that!

We set off downstream (north-west) for Meilhan on what was to be our final trip westward to say goodbye to the good friends we have made down here on the Canal Des Deux Mers.

On the way we stopped just downstream of Charles and Caroline’s boat CONNIE and they came for supper.  There had been a slight mis-communication about our exact timing and venue for this meeting as Louise had mistakenly used their land-line for a text, and Caroline had emailed us after we had disconnected from the internet!  But we combined our suppers and it all went brilliantly and in the morning we continued on our way.

At Meilhan, Lucie and Malcolm of BODY & SOUL had invited us for supper and Mark and Annie of ANNA came for pre-supper drinks.  Alex had asked Lucie, as she passed on her way to see a sick friend in the village, if she knew of an osteopath locally who could deal with his sore leg.  On her return she said she had made an appointment for 8.30 the day after next in a town 10 minutes away and she would give Alex a lift to it (and interpret!)  Brilliant.  Thanks Lucie.

Lucie made us a lovely supper and the following night everybody came to Riccall for drinks.  Alex managed to allow a Crémant cork to escape unchecked at some point and it shot up, hit the ceiling and rebounded right onto Lucie’s glass, shattering it all over the floor, much to everybody’s amusement. (They thought he had done it on purpose, but no!)

Then the following morning Alex and Lucie set off for the osteopath: a most unusual experience for Alex as the fellow was treating him and two other patients in different rooms all at the same time, and also answering the phone every 5 minutes or so, stopping whatever treatment he happened to be giving, to do so.  But at the end of it all, he seemed to have effected a cure and Alex walked thankfully away without a limp and only €40 out of pocket.

Later that morning we set off east again leaving the port with much honking of horns!

We spent a last few days at the port at Buzet saying goodbye to other friends and picking up stores with the use of Tom’s car (L’ESCAPADE).  He had offered us unlimited use of it, partly because he is a very nice guy, and partly because Alex had looked after L’ESCAPADE during the winter.

Again we left the port with much honking of horns – so much so that ‘Madame the Dragon’ from the house opposite came out to see who she was blocking in with her car this time!

At Agen we moored on the two well-spaced bollards opposite the hire base.  A small cruiser was moored on the two close-together bollards and we discovered over the next couple of days that the lady in the cruiser (no evidence of a partner) had managed to get a concessionary ‘stationnement’ at that spot and had even had an electricity supply installed for her sole use since we were last there in the autumn.  Lucky woman!  It’s a super spot, within a few minutes walk of the station and the town centre, with the only downside being the dog merde all along the grassy bank.

At long last we made sure we did the ‘tourist thing’ in Agen, with a long overdue visit to the small medieval area of the town and other notable buildings and squares.  We’d missed out on these high spots on our previous visits, and had hoped to eat in the Café du Gare (famous from Rick Stein’s DVD of this area) only to find it closed permanently!  The recession has hit in France too it seems.

At Boé we moored up behind SOMEWHERE and had a couple of days of good crack with Ken and Rhonda.  Alex borrowed their car to locate and transport a new battery for the generator, the old one having suddenly died for some reason.  Then after a night at Valence d’Agen and only just getting under the bridge with the roof on (again!) we set off for Pommevic, about an hour away.  We had decided it would be a perfect spot to deal once and for all with the water tanks as they were still producing tainted water.  Electricity and water is free at Pommevic, and there is a small ditch well below the level of the canal beside the mooring, which was important for Alex’s plans.

So we bought 10 litres of eau de javel (thin bleach) and added it to the water bit by bit as we filled the tanks up.  Then we ran all the taps till we could smell the bleach coming out, topped up the tanks and left them to ‘stew’ overnight.  The next day Alex rigged up an outlet from before the water pump and created a siphon with the hosepipe down into the ditch.  This meant we could empty the tanks without running the water pump for hours.  It took a bit longer than we had expected (4 hours) but saved overworking the pump.  Afterwards of course we filled up with fresh water, but decided to carry on using bottled water for drinking and cooking until we had re-filled the tanks a second time.  Quite an effort at the time but now, two weeks later, it seems to have worked.

Later in the afternoon we saw a barge coming towards us from the lock upstream.  It was SASSI and we helped Bob and Chris moor up and invited them for cups of tea.  After a short while, and in a very heavy downpour we saw PEABODY appearing from the other direction.  We made the introductions as Bob and Chris hadn’t met PEABODY’s Ced and Suzie and the two barges breasted up together.  Then we put together our intended evening meals and all had supper on RICCALL.  Another jolly evening, despite the appalling weather.

PEABODY left before us the next morning, but by the time we got to the first lock it had broken down, so we had to tie to tree roots and have an early lunch while we waited for VNF to repair the lock.

The weather here has been truly dreadful – just like in the UK.  We had had three solid weeks of miserable, cold and wet days before we set off from Buzet and the awful downpours continued for most of our journey to Montauban.  The pilgrim route ‘Le Chemin de St Jacques de Compostelle’ runs beside the canal here and over the last few days we have seen literally dozens of rain-soaked pilgrims trudging their way west in the inclement/atrocious weather.  We did at one point seriously consider offering warming teas/coffees and probably should have!  But there have been oases of calm and even warm weather too, and despite everything the trees are greening up and the spring flowers are here in abundance.

At last we reached our first booked destination – Montauban.  PEABODY, who was ahead of us had warned us that it was a bit full but we had booked a place so had to go anyway – with all our trains and flights to the UK for Alex’s sister Julia’s 60th birthday booked and starting from Montauban.  As it turned out the hotel barge ROSA was on ‘our’ quay but we doubled onto her and Alex rang Tom the captain who we know slightly.  Tom was quite happy for us to stay moored alongside and said he’d extract ROSA when he had to leave without our help, as we wouldn’t be back until a day later.

Julia’s 60th birthday was a momentous milestone for her as she has MD and the doctors had predicted only about 20 more years of life when she was 18.  Julia is an example to us all of how to live life to the full even with a severe disability.  She never dwells on what she can’t do but always makes the most of what she can – hence a jolly birthday party for 120!!!

The party was to be held in her friends’ barn with an attached marquee.  Most of the preparation had been done by the time we arrived early on Friday afternoon but nevertheless Alex mucked in with Steve for the rest of that day and we both helped the next day for the party to begin that evening.

It was a great success but the weather was terrible with gusts of wind and rain trying to join the partygoers!  The two space heaters made little impression unless you were right next to them, but Julia was duly astounded when we unveiled her present - the sculpture of a stag at bay which all her family members had contributed towards.  Standing nearly 8ft high to the tips of his antlers, he is the marvellous creation of one George Hider from Somerset and all out of scrap steel!

Monday was spent un-doing the party – marquee, lighting, sound systems etc etc. then it was the journey in reverse.

Our flight back on Tuesday coincided with the French May bank holiday so at Toulouse airport we discovered that there was no navette into the city.  A rather expensive taxi ride got us to the railway station but the flight had been delayed and we had missed our booked ‘slow’ train.  An extra €5 however, swapped us to the next TGV which was so fast that we arrived back in Montauban only an hour or so after we would have via Plan A.

ROSA had gone and RICCALL was now well moored to the quay.  Our power lead had been plugged in but not switched on unfortunately, but as it had only been overnight, the batteries were still well up, thankfully.

On Thursday we set off to tackle the nine locks of the Montauban flight but had to stop for another early lunch at the first lock as VNF were working on it and had stopped for the obligatory French lunch. We had another couple of minor hiccups before we got to the top lock.  At one lock we were helped by the gentleman who lives in the lockside house: he made the necessary telephone call to VNF to report the lock failure, but more importantly, he understood the answer!!  We had a bit of chat with him in our imperfect French and as we left he presented Louise with a small bunch of tulips from his garden.  How kind of him.

We’d been invited to supper by Alisdair and Barbara of the hotel barge ST LOUIS, not aboard the boat but at their home, which is a super VNF canalside house.  It’s a lovely setting and they can moor their barge there.  Lucky them!  Supper was great, cooked by Barbara, ably assisted by their two crew members Cheryl and Val.

We had roughed out a plan for getting to Avignon for July and realised we had time to return to Moissac (retracing our steps somewhat) to spend a few days on the lovely River Tarn moorings there.

Today is the holiday to commemorate V E day and each town and village holds a small ceremony at their cenotaph to mark the occasion.  The Maire and other dignitaries of the town were present to lay their wreaths and the old soldiers provided a guard of honour.  There were armed soldiers, police and a small crowd of onlookers and with the Marseillaise played over the loudspeaker it was a very moving occasion.

And at last the sun has reappeared, the rain has stopped and it’s warm again.  We are alone on the river quay.  Most boats won’t come down to this quay until the water and electricity have been reconnected after the winter inundations (there is still a small fear of further rising river levels) but we don’t mind that and it’s just magic!