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!

Winter in Buzet and UK

Well! Here we are at the start of a new season of cruising. As usual we have spent the winter months dividing our time between France and England – and Spain this year.

Ken and Rhonda had taken a luxury apartment in Estepona for two weeks (reduced from €800 a week to €120 a week) and invited us to spend a week or so with them. We opted for the middle 5 days, as the flights from Leeds/Bradford were perfect. Good call, as it turned out, because poor Ken and Rhonda had had a week of sorting out problems before we got there! In the first apartment they were allotted nothing worked, but the second one was a bit better, and by the time we arrived, they had sorted out all the problems!! Of course, not even K and R could eliminate the motorway 20 metres behind the bedrooms, but c’est la vie! At €60 for the week, cheap flights and excellent company, we had a fabulous 5 days – we saw Gibraltar, drove inland to isolated villages in the hills north of the horrendous Costa del Sol and gawped at the rows upon rows of luxury (and we mean luxury) yachts in Marbella harbour. Wonderful!

In the UK we drove up to Scotland to see Alex’s cousin Mary and her husband Martin, and went for some brisk walks in the freezing wind, one of them with their friends Mark and Sue who had walked over the hills (two and a half hours with all their survival gear) the night before in the dark for supper!! A different lifestyle up in the wilds of Scotland!

Then in February back to Buzet, where unusually it had become very, very cold: so cold in fact that ice was forming on the canal. Alex monitored it day by day and when at last it reached 9 cms thick he designated it safe enough to skate on. Of course, every boater in France carries everything for all eventualities, and thus Alex delved into deep store under the stairs and retrieved his ice skates and he was off. One of the real plusses was being able to collect fallen wood from the opposite bank where normally no-one goes as it is very difficult to get at. So not only was Alex able to skate up and down the canal over a good distance but he was also able to give us heat and warmth for free for the whole of the rest of the winter here in the south of France.

Our first taste of this unusual phenomenon was when we drove over for dinner and overnight with Charles and Caroline on CONNIE downstream of here. In the morning when we woke, there was 4" of snow everywhere. Of course this far south they don’t expect such an event, so they have no snow clearing equipment and all the roads stayed just virgin snow! That’s OK if you are familiar with driving on snow but it was obvious that many of the French drivers had never experienced anything like this before. So half of them were driving as if there was no difficulty at 100 kph, the other half, as if the end of the world had come, at 20 kph. This made for an interesting return drive but as we only saw a dozen or so other cars on the whole trip, it wasn’t too bad.

During this very cold spell we also made a trip over to Argeliers to spend a couple of days with Peter and Nicci on AURIGNY. We all went into Narbonne for a look round but it was freezing cold with a biting wind and we were glad to get into a nice café for lunch. Narbonne will have to wait for our return on Riccall so that we can give it a proper going-over.

Peter is working hard on AURIGNY to comply with the new TRIWV rules for boats over 20 metres and one part of this involved removing the short lengths of very corroded chain from the anchors. He was pondering how to do this when Alex suggested making use of the thick ice that was all round their boat. So Alex and he lowered the anchors one at a time onto the ice, dealt with the chain and Peter was also able to engrave the name of the barge onto the anchors with his angle grinder (another requirement for the TRIWV).

On our return trip to the UK we spent the night at Le Mans and did a quick drive round the 24-hour racetrack which was fun and then when we got to England, on our way to Somerset, we had a picnic lunch at Thruxton racetrack, dropped off at Stonehenge, Woodhenge and Wells Cathedral. We spent a few jolly nights with Alex’s brother David and his wife Bun in Somerset being entertained by film and live music, then set off north. We had offered to pick up a replacement car for Jamie from South Wales as his had been written off by his insurance company. When all came to all and we got the address details, it turned out that the car was as far into Wales as you can get before you fall into the Irish Sea - way beyond Haverfordwest! So hey, ho, a bit of a diversion, but we convoyed it back to Newcastle without a hitch, calling in on Julia and Steve en route.

We had popped across to north eastern Wales in the late autumn to look at a lighthouse which was for sale, but Alex still has his dream of buying and renovating a windmill (back to old fashioned sails but generating electricity) and with this as a goal we set off on a final UK recce. We had already looked at those in Yorkshire and Lincolnshire: this time it was to be the Midlands and Norfolk. At the end of the day there was one in north-eastern Norfolk (coincidentally near to our boating friends Ced and Suzie’s home base) which might have been a contender but when it took us 3 hours just to get to the A1, never mind the 2 hours to get to anyone we know, we felt it was a step too far. Still, we had had a good week and a lovely evening and night with Ced and Suzie.

Alex still feels he needs a winter project for next year so we will continue looking next autumn. Watch this space!! But in the intervening 6 months, we have a lot of boating to do – travelling back east across the Garonne and Midi and north up the Rhone and Saone. We’re sorry to be leaving the south of France with its (usually) wonderful weather and all the friends we have made down here, but we will almost certainly come back again when we have travelled the rest of the thousands of kilometres of canal we still have to do in France, Germany, Holland, Austria, Czech Republic, Hungary, Rumania, Russia and . . .

Late autumn sightseeing

We set off for the Cirque de Gavarnie in the Pyrenees region between France and Spain, some 200kms south of our moorings at Buzet intending to be away for 5-6 days visiting sights of interest and friends. Louise had a cold but thought she was shaking it off, so off we went. Lourdes was on our route and we stopped there at about 3 o’clock. We took the funicular railway to the top of the hill beside the town where after a short walk up the last half kilometre we were able to climb a small tower to obtain fabulous views of Lourdes itself and the surrounding hills. There was a slight breeze blowing the low hanging clouds on and off the hilltops and sometimes obscuring our view down. Very atmospheric! A very grubby teenager had accompanied us in the funicular, with his equally mud-caked mountain bike. He had bought a multipack of ascent tickets and this was to be his 6th bicycle descent, mad fool, but what an adrenalin rush. We watched with awe as he careered off down the tiny muddy track.

Later we got to Lourdes itself and as it was out of season, the place was pretty quiet. Presumably at this chilly time of year miracles hardly ever happen (or is that hurricanes?). However, all the rows of healing water spouts and places to burn candles and rows of urinals in the gents were all open for business even if nearly deserted.

A lone preacher was orating to a small semi-interested congregation outside the cave of the miracle of the sighting of the Virgin Mary, by St Bernadette, while a straggle of tourists was guide-led round the cave behind him!

The cathedral was pretty impressive, and the walls were covered in 10” x 15” marble tiles, each inscribed with thanks from somebody who may (or may not) have been cured by a miracle. We looked. We left.

The small hotel we had booked in the village of Argelès Gazost appeared to be unattended when we arrived until after much banging of the desk bell for 10 minutes a surly concierge finally appeared and directed us to our room. Surprisingly after this inauspicious start the attached restaurant gave us quite a good meal.

The next day we set off for the principal object of our tour – about 25kms further south and into the mountains. Louise was not better – in fact worse - but having got so close we agreed at the very least we should look at the Cirque.

We parked in the village of Gavarnie, which appeared to be deserted, and walked into a café which was open (we thought) but no! We were turned away in no uncertain terms but not without our pointing out that their ‘OUVERT’ sign was clearly displayed on the door!

Louise found the one-hour walk to the centre of the Cirque pretty difficult but soldiered on with encouragement from Alex. It was all worth it in the end – a truly amazing sight – a 2000ft high circle of mountains with one way in and out, sheer cliffs rising skywards. But Alex decided that we had best head for home to let poor Louise suffer on in Riccall. Fortunately the new motorway route back had been completed and we were able to leg it at 130kph back to Riccall before nightfall. And a good decision it was as Louise spent the next two days laid up in bed and it was at least a week before she was up to even 80%.





We like to try and give as much purpose as possible to our trips so when Louise had fully recovered we started planning our next foray. Alex had just read a book which was set in Tuscany, close to Florence, and it reminded him of a calendar seen years ago in his mother’s kitchen at Plantreees which depicted one walled (fortified) town in Italy for each month of the year. Although Louise has over the years tried to track such a calendar down she had not had any success. However, Alex still felt interested enough to propose a trip to Tuscany and via the internet produced a list of possible sites.

On the way we would have lunch with Gill and Brian and after the staying the first night in a B & B in the countryside we would drop in to Mazamet to pay some money into our HSBC account to keep our SFR direct debits on track!

Madame at the B & B spoke good English but had to leave almost as soon as we arrived to take her daughter to the doctor and left us with her husband and his good friend – neither of whom spoke any English at all. She also asked as she left if we could help with another Englishman who was arriving shortly and could speak no French. We heard his arrival and went out to try and translate but when the young man heard our attempts at French he realised his own French was as good if not better than ours! But we like to feel that because we didn’t mind making fools of ourselves and were doing the best we could, we encouraged him to do the same himself. So we all sat with the older two Frenchmen talking and drinking an aperitif of home-made wine for a while and the older guys spoke clearly and slowly and if necessary used different terms in explanation, so the conversation went well.

After the young man left we all sat down to supper and wine en-famille and eventually Madame returned. A great evening.

We did the biz in Mazamet with HSBC, spent a night in Nice, then visited a couple of places on the coast recommended by Jane and Guy (who had had a house in Tuscany for a while). Camogli and Portofino were lovely coastal towns and we had lunch of bread and cheese on the sea front at Portofino in the warm sun.

We dropped into Lucca on our way to our next night near Florence and decided we would have to return on our way back to spend more time there. We finally got to our B & B near Florence about 6.30pm.

By the way, I think we should mention that, though the road above the Cote d’Azur and eastwards into Italy is spectacular, as it cuts through the hilly landscape – bridge, tunnel, bridge, tunnel, bridge, tunnel – the road surface and quantity of traffic is appalling. Can you believe this? Worse than England! And the drivers? Well . . . .

Our B & B was an old fortified mansion but unfortunately the usual provision of a basic meal was finished for the season, but the local pizzeria in the village sold us the best pizza we have had for ages.

We set off the following morning on a whistle-stop tour of the fortified towns that Alex had earmarked.

First off was Certaldo (coffee) then San Gimignano (lunch) Monteriggione (tea) and finally Volterra, this last on our way to our overnight in Pisa. We drove to the gates of Volterra, parked in the 15 minutes waiting slot and followed the signs to the Tourist Information Office. We walked in, and said to the girl. “We are just passing through. We have 5 minutes here in Volterra. What should we look at?” I think she thought we were mad (well we were really) so we softened the blow and told her we would be back on a longer trip some other day. She gave us a map, pointed to the cathedral and main square and off we went.

We got to Pisa about 6.30pm (dark, narrow, one-way streets like a rabbit warren). The GPS still said half a kilometre to go for our destination but amazingly Louise spotted the hotel just as we passed it - a beautiful hotel with private parking at the rear for €10. Am American guest in Reception said to Louise as she booked in, “Pay the €10 for the parking. Believe me, it’s worth it.” So we did and he was right! Parking in Pisa? Forget it.

That night we walked the 2kms to the Duomo and Tower to see it leaning in the dark, had supper in a Sicilian bar on the way back to our hotel, got lost, eventually found the hotel at about 11.30pm and fell into bed (a long day).



After an excellent breakfast (included in the €59) we ‘did’ the Tower and the Duomo, had coffee in the square and lunch overlooking the river . . . picked up the car from the hotel and set off for a longer look at Lucca.

On our way through Lucca the first time as we headed for Florence we had at first wondered where the fortified part of the town was, but when we found it, we were amazed just how big it was. We drove in through the gates and into the maze of narrow streets, not sure if we were allowed there or not. Eventually Alex chickened out and headed back to the gate, down what appeared to be pedestrian-only roads.

This time we went to the Tourist Information Office, got the map provided, parked in the free car park half a kilometre away and walked in to do the job properly. As usual this included going up the highest tower – this one with trees on top!

We got to our next hotel in Bagni di Lucca just as dark was falling. Alex had had slight misgivings about this hotel as 30 minutes after making the booking on-line that morning, the manager rang to say the hotel we had booked had no central heating (broken down) so was closed, but he could give us a room in his other hotel 1km away and give us a similar deal at the same price. This call came half-way through breakfast so we just said OK. The room was very tired and obviously not refurbished since the 70s. But so were we so we just accepted it! Then when Alex went on-line again he discovered this hotel could be booked for €20 less than the other for a standard room.

We had a good dinner in the hotel restaurant for €50 and in the morning, bill time, Alex took on the manager. He tried to claim he had upgraded us to an equivalent room complete with balcony (true) overlooking the river (true). Alex pointed out though that with evening temperatures falling to below freezing, the balcony wasn’t much use and that the noise from the weir coming through the ill-fitting door had kept us awake all night!

The manager relented with poor grace and reduced the bill accordingly.

Our next village was Barga. Not so much a walled town as an ancient one, very self-contained with narrow steep alleys leading between houses dotted about on the undulating terrain. A good view of the surrounding hills, also.

On one of these Alex was intrigued by a cluster of buildings clinging to the summit with a tower in their midst.

After two failed attempts up the precipitous tracks in the wooded mountainside we finally found the right one to what turned out to be a small village of about 15 houses called Sommocolonia.

As we investigated the ruins above the village and a plaque in honour of the US army, we realised that the village had been involved in heavy fighting during the war.

There were a couple of old guys roasting chestnuts in the small square by the bell tower and a younger one carrying out some maintenance on the tower. As we strolled past, the old guys offered us hot chestnuts and wine and the maintenance man dashed off, beckoning us to follow as he wanted to open the tiny museum for us.

Here was a potted history of the US operation towards the end of the war to relieve the village and drive the Germans from the opposite ridge. And of course, there were photographs of the US commander and his troops who had returned en mass with about 20 jeeps in 1984 to revisit the village he had helped to save. We left – for us – a generous donation for the upkeep of the museum (or whatever).

Then as we wandered near the bell tower Alex noticed the door open and rickety stairs leading up into the dark. He poked his head round the corner and caught the maintenance man’s eye. “Can we go up?” He was with us in a trice and leading the way up before you could say “Jack Rabbit”, clearing the debris from the steps as he went!

When we got to the top there were three large bells and one smaller one. We looked at our watches. 11.55am!!!!! Perfect! 5 minutes later the big bells chimed the 12 strokes with an electric clapper. Then the smaller one started to chime and swung back and forth at the same time. The whole tower shook while it did this for the next full minute. A great experience – the bells, the bells! So partially deafened, we made our way down and back to the car to continue our journey. We had a lovely lunch in ‘new’ Barga village, then forced our GPS to take us on a spectacular country route to our next port of call, Lerici on the coast, followed by Portovenere.

Our next hotel booking was in Savona. After a bit of coastal hopping we realised we had better get moving, so back onto the motorway and hot-foot it to our next night at the Hotel Miro. This had been booked because it had an on-site restaurant. On no it didn’t! Closed on the night we were there!

We walked the half kilometre to a restaurant recommended. We sat and ordered our meal and shortly, when mine host poured the wine, (€14 a bottle) it was fizzy – red but fizzy. Alex thought he recognised the name but in the UK it’s not fizzy – it’s just good quaffable stuff. However, bless him, the waiter said, “No problem, I will get a bottle of local wine (€16) for you to try.” This was fine! Still, and fine, and he just took the other bottle away. No quibble, amazing! (The meal was OK too.)

The next day was Louise’s day! The Côte d’Azur. So we headed down onto the old coast road (off the motorway to Menton) and then all along the coast – Monte Carlo, Monaco, Nice, Antibes, not quite into Cannes as the road section of a triathlon had closed the coast road, but eventually we got back to the coast, had lunch in a café and coffee on the sea wall, where Alex was treated to a good long look at a topless bather (female)!

We regained the motorway after Fréjus and arrived at our rather tacky night’s accommodation in a Premiere Class in Arles at 4.50pm. They don’t open till 5.00pm so we drove into Arles to have a look at the moorings and re-fuel the car. That evening the restaurant next door opened at 7pm. At 7.15 we were the first in and wondered if it would be OK. By 7.45 the place was buzzing! We had a good meal and house wine – at €5 a half litre, very good value for a restaurant.

The next day we drove to Capestang to look at the recent tree devastation (removal of the famous plane trees because of a fungal disease) and on to La Croisade to have lunch with Peter on AURIGNY and thence back onto the French motorway system for a quick 3 hours back to Riccall.

There is no doubt the French autoroutes are absolutely fantastic – not crowded, good surface, fast travel, worth every franc!

Autumn Sightseeing

So after months of laziness and after hundreds of requests (well none actually) I will once again take up my pen and bore everybody with an account of what we have been up to since our last missive.

On our return to France after our adventures on the narrowboat in the UK, we had to make ready for a trip down the canal to Meilhan to attend Malcolm’s (BODY AND SOUL) 70th birthday party. Also to this bash had been invited our very good friends Nicci and Peter of AURIGNY, but as their boat was miles away on the Canal du Midi we offered them a few days on Riccall as we travelled there and back.

They joined us by motorbike at a little Halte Nautique, Lagruère, where unexpectedly Ken and Rhonda also dropped in (by car) and we all had a jolly supper at the restaurant. The following day we set off for Meilhan passing CONNIE, also en route to the same party and said hello to Charles and Caroline who had stopped for a late lunch.

When we arrived in Meilhan and had moored into our reserved berth we said hello to all and sundry boat owners and settled down to some serious socialising. Late that evening we discovered to our horror that the do was to have a 1920s flavour complete with 1920s clothing. Some intensive research on the internet the next morning then ensued to discover just what men did wear in the 20s. Ladies’ wear is OK, we all know about that – long and lean and boyish (spot on for me then! – Louise) but the men’s kit was not so easy. However, we did a rootle around and managed to put together an outfit each of reasonable authenticity (to a blind man on a galloping horse anyway). But you must judge yourselves from the pictures. Everyone had made such an effort we were glad we had too and hadn’t let the side down.

The lunch time party was great with lovely nibbles provided by Malcolm’s wife Lucie and helpers and the main course was excellent fish and chips provided by a mobile fish and chip van from nearby Moissac. What a great idea of Lucie’s for feeding 60 guests.

Excellent musical entertainment was provided during and after the feast by Malcolm on piano, his brother on clarinet and a wandering minstrel or two on double bass. Also having a go were a couple of young lads whose voices, self-confidence and skill were way beyond their age of 13 or 14. Later on, Malcolm’s vocalist daughter joined in too – a real family do.

The weather held until about 6pm when rain stopped play which was a shame, as many people returned to their boats, so we decided with so many friends around we would stay on at Meilhan an extra day and enjoyed catching up with some and having a lovely lunch at the nearby restaurant, courtesy of Peter and Nicci.

So next day we returned to Lagruère for an excellent evening barbeque then a morning farewell as Peter and Nicci set off on their motorbike to return to Aurigny around 4 hours drive away, and we returned upstream to Buzet. A really great 5 days ‘holiday’.

We took a couple of day trips by car, including one to a town called Condom (we just had to have a look at it!) which wasn’t too exciting in the event apart from its wonderful sculpture of the three (4) Musketeers, but nearby was a charming hilltop fortified village called Larrassingle and another lovely village with a completely circular central ‘square’ – Fources. One of the main aims of this day trip was to stock up on some excellent wine, a bottle of which Stuart and Christine from HILDA MAY had given us when they came for drinks.

There has been no chance for us on Riccall to get onto the River Lot this year. The river/canal situation here is very complicated: we are moored on the Canal Lateral a la Garonne at Buzet. The River Garonne flows in a roughly parallel course a mile or so away. The River Baïse is essentially a tributary of the River Garonne but has to pass under the canal to reach its confluence. The River Lot is another tributary of the Garonne but a little further downstream. So to get onto the River Lot, which is beautiful, from Buzet you have to descend two locks onto the Baïse, travel down the Baïse for about 4 kms, descend a lock onto the Garonne, travel 4 kms on the Garonne, and then ascend a lock onto the River Lot. Now everyone says this is all very worthwhile because the Lot is so lovely, but the problem is that if the Garonne is low, as it has been all this summer and autumn, there is not enough water in it to enable Riccall to traverse the 4kms downstream. But we have friends on PEABODY, Ced and Suzie, whose boat draws less than Riccall and who made it onto the Lot in the early spring. Their problem was, and still is, that they cannot get back off the Lot until there is more water in the Garonne river!

We joined them on a Tuesday morning and had a truly lovely cruise up the Lot as far as Villeneuve sur Lot, then moored for the night and had a barbeque in the mild evening air. The next day Ced returned us to our car and we drove back to Buzet. So we have had a little taster of the Lot and very nice it was too.

Shortly after that Jane and Guy, our mooring ‘neighbours’ on our pontoon at Buzet on their wide beam narrow boat ROSE OF TRALEE, came for supper and then a few days later Ken and Rhonda (SOMEWHERE) came for supper and stayed the night.

Next in the list of autumn out and about-ing was a day trip to Condom (yes, we just couldn’t miss that one out!) and another on ROSE OF TRALEE onto the Baïse, the other river in the area that we can’t do due to Riccall’s draught. We thoroughly enjoyed our trip, even if Alex did manage to take a bit of the shine off ROSE’s bow as he brought her into moor!

While making last minute touches to the preparations for our next visitors Nick and Gail of MAGELLAN one morning a few days later, we received a text from Judith of NOORDSTER, moored just half a kilometre upstream from us in the second Buzet port. The boat was aground and she wondered if we could help with any suggestions. We went along there on our bikes and after several attempts with ropes strung across the canal and well-intentioned but useless help from hire boats we gave up, and had to leave poor Judith to try and enlist the help of the VNF. We couldn’t stay longer as our visitors were driving over shortly for lunch and we knew they would be with us for most of the afternoon. However, when they left after a good lunch and chat, we texted Judith to see how she was doing. No luck with the VNF, so we offered to go up in Riccall and pull NOORDSTER free. So we extracted RICCALL from her fairly enclosed mooring and trundled up to NOORDSTER. Here we drew up alongside and tied slightly loose ropes for and aft. Then with a heave backwards then forwards NOORDSTER slid of the bottom and into the channel so fast that Judith was left on the shore! Fortunately Terry, acting as temporary crew, was still aboard NOORDSTER so Jude had to shout instructions on how to start the engine then get the boat back to a place where she could get aboard. All of this, much to the amusement of the crowd of motorhome gongoozlers who were looking on!

Meanwhile, we had unhitched ourselves, done a 180 degree turn in the wide section beyond and were heading back to our own port. The whole operation took less than an hour – amazing!

The American couple Walt and Gail on LES VIEUX PAPILLONS are moored here in Buzet for the winter and invited us round for what they referred to as ‘drinks’, but curiously asked us if we were vegetarian! So, intrigued, we set off for what we would normally expect to be a couple of hours at most, but Walt kept bringing more goodies to eat and different things to drink, including $100-a-bottle Tequila, so we didn’t leave until after 10.30! Still it was a great fun evening and no way did we need anything more to eat or drink that night!

Another 70th birthday party arrived the next week – Ken’s of SOMEWHERE. Rhonda had booked a table for 9 of us at a lovely little restaurant lockside a short distance downstream from here. Le Pichet et La Chope (Pitcher and Jug) is owned and run by a Belgian couple and we have eaten there before – jolly good too. Alex doesn’t really like drinking at lunchtimes so he elected to drive – it’s only 15 minutes away. Louise had been hunting for a suitable gift(s) for Ken and had found a lovely ‘coffee table’ book on the Ile de Ré and a barbecuing apron, and Alex had come up with some English beers. As we were getting ready to set off, Louise jokingly tried on a pair of pink hotpants which she had bought in the UK for the French summer. Knowing that Ken really admires Louise’s legs (comments on which have even been made on their own blog!) Alex suggested that she went dressed like that! Er no! The compromise was that she wore a calf length brown skirt over the hot pants, then when we arrived Louise handed over the presents to Ken and said that she had one more present for him, at which she proceeded to undo and drop the skirt! Well that brought the house down – Ken was gratifyingly amazed, but one of the male guests, who we had only met briefly before, was transfixed – open jawed!!! Anyway, everybody thought it a good joke and Louise sat next to Ken so he could get an eyeful until the afternoon cooled off a bit and the skirt went back on!

All in all a busy few days, so we did nothing the next week until we set off for a few days helping Gill and Brian near Gaillac with their new house plans. We then drove to Bergerac via lovely Monpazier and Cahors and spent a night in the best chambre d’hotes we have been to for 17 years, near Monbaziac. In fact, when we were shown our room Alex wondered if the price had actually been €55 per person rather than for the pair of us! Actually we probably wouldn’t have minded too much if it had been, such good value was it: huge bedroom, queen sized bed, generous en-suite bathroom, separate en suite loo, private outside patio with table and chairs, shared swimming pool, other outside seating areas and shady terrace, use of barbeque with own food if required (which could be stored in the fridge till required), the list goes on, and a very pleasant English couple running it.

The next day we had lunch with Sue and Richard Adams (Louise and Sue worked together at Fenwicks) at their small farm near Duras, then found ourselves another B & B near St Emilion. This one wasn’t such good value, but facilities for us to cook our own supper somewhat made up for it.

And then – we drove up to the Ile de Ré. We had been very impressed by the book we’d bought Ken on this island, though initially we had no idea where it was! It turned out to be an island off the coast opposite La Rochelle. There used to be a causeway over to the island, like Holy Island, but that has now been replaced by a huge bridge - €9 charge to get onto the island, but it’s free to get off again!

It’s an amazing place with a lot of old fortifications, but its main claims to fame are its mussel and oyster beds and its sea salt production.

The villages are small, the houses typical fishermen’s cottages in the main, all painted white with GREEN doors. It doesn’t seem to matter what shade of green, just so long as they are all green! Its easy to get lost if you stray from the main road, but the villages are not very big, so you soon emerge into the daylight again as it were, and wonder where you have got to. Between the villages, each with its own little harbour, are the mussel and oyster beds along the shore line and a bit further inland are the salt drying lagoons with sluices to let the seawater in, then hold it there while the water evaporates, leaving the salt crystals.

At the end of the island, needless to say, is the lighthouse, up which we could and had to go and what a view from the top!

It is the most charming place – a world of its own somehow, away from the run-of-the-mill rest of France and a delightful destination.

Although we had a list of 4 chambres d’hotes on the island we hadn’t booked anywhere, hoping to do so ad hoc. Then Louise spotted a hotel which had been listed in the Tourist Information handout, and before Alex could blink, she’d popped in and booked a room for the night – not expensive, but breakfast at €8 each a bit much for us – after all, you only get bread, maybe a croissant if you’re lucky and coffee! We dropped into the local supermarket and bought cornflakes, muesli, orange juice and milk. Alex sweet-talked the hotel staff into a spot in their fridge for the milk and orange so that was OK. In the morning we just had breakfast in our room (we always carry spoons and bowls in the car) and coffee and tea in the local café. Cheapskates? Us?

The previous evening we had had a nice meal in a local restaurant with rather a nice bottle of Ile de Ré wine. Our waiter was a really nice young man who spoke excellent English. We had earlier helped him to get his outside menu lit up (!) so he was happy to chat, and told us where we could buy this wine at the cooperative cave on the island and that of course it would be much cheaper than the €17 we had paid in the restaurant and only available on the island.

As we were leaving the island, we had one last village to look at and almost by chance we also found the cave close by. Indeed the wine was only about €4 a bottle for 12 or more so we bought 2 dozen.

We left the Ile de Ré over the magnificent bridge and headed off on a wild goose chase into the suburbs of La Rochelle where Alex thought were some WW2 submarine pens to be seen. Well we didn’t see them – more research required. All we got for our trouble was being flashed by a sign that said we were in a 30 kph zone and that we now had a fine and points on the licence for exceeding the limit! and the cheapest diesel we have found in France so far. So you win some, you lose some.

We drove down the coast a bit, then out to a nice restaurant at the very end of a spit of land which juts out into the ocean, where we had a lovely seafood lunch, then further down the coast and a ferry across what is essentially the mouth of the Dordogne and Garonne rivers. The diversion to avoid the €29 charge would take hours so the audience is somewhat captive – plenty of people were clearly prepared to pay this extortionate charge for a 20 minute crossing. And then after a tedious hour and a half’s driving we found ourselves negotiating the Bordeaux ring road at 5pm on a Friday evening. I mean, how good was that!

An hour and 20k later and we were at last on the homeward stretch of motorway when a sign popped up saying that our exit, No 6, was closed and the alternatives were either to take No 5, 20kms before ours, or No 7, 30kms after. So a rather tedious end to the journey as well, but hey ho, it’s all fun really, especially some of the backwoods roads our GPS takes us on. At one point we were sure we were on the canal towpath, not on a proper road!

Lechlade to Home (UK)

Now at last, we are back at home on Riccall in sunny southern France! but to get here first we had to get home to Castleford from Lechlade on the narrowboat.

We left Lechlade and spent two idyllic nights on the Thames, away from it all in the depths of the countryside on our way back to Oxford. There is a ‘short cut’ (is that the derivation of the expression I wonder?) north of Oxford called the Duke’s Cut, from the Thames to the Oxford Canal which we took, thus avoiding the rather busy moorings of the city itself. That night we moored up near Heyford just as a downpour started but got the ropes tied before we got too wet.

Next day we got to Banbury where we moored just below the town lock and Louise discovered a bus to Tesco for the following day which would start from a point just 50m from our moorings and drop us off actually in Tesco’s car park, then pick us up an hour and a half later – perfect.

We eventually set off again from Banbury and moored up for the night just north of Cropredy, which afficianados will know holds an annual music festival (following on from the farewell concert Fairport Convention held there many years ago). The whole canal through the town and for miles before and after was packed with boats, some moored two deep ready for the following weekend.

At this point we had learned that ‘Stan’ a close friend of Louise’s parents had recently died. So we looked at the map and realised that if we could get to a certain marina – Wheltondale Wharf – Steve (Alex’s sister Julia’s partner) might be able to pick us up and Louise could catch a train back to Co Durham for the funeral, which she was keen to attend.

Bit of a problem with lack of water and restricted locking times imposed by BW meant that, when we got to the Claydon flight of 5 locks up to the summit level, we were 6th in line and it took 2 hours to complete. After traversing the summit level we arrived at the Napton flight down, at about 3pm, and discovered we were 24th in the queue!! But by 4.30 when the locks closed we were now 11th in line to descend. Eventually we were through by 1.30pm the following day and found a lovely mooring at 4 o’clock that evening and in the evening sunshine painted the whole of one side of the boat.

The effect was slightly spoiled, we discovered the following morning, by the torrential downpour we had endured not just quite long enough after the paint had been applied! Still, it made for a good undercoat.

We got to our Wheltondale Marina mooring about midday: Steve picked us up and ferried us back to their home near Bedford. Louise left by train the next morning (Mon) and duly arrived back at 6pm on Tuesday.

It had all gone like clockwork until Louise, with her cousin Dorothy, arrived at the church only to eventually discover that they were a week early! The funeral was actually booked for the following Tuesday! Clearly there had been a misunderstanding somewhere along the line – but Louise had a nice lunch with her cousin before setting off back to Bedford.

So she returned to Julia and Steve’s, where of course everyone thought the whole thing was hilarious!!!! and we resumed our journey north, but felt that another attempt at attending the funeral the following week was perhaps a step too far.

We had problems with restriction on the Watford flight which took hours to climb, then had to moor within earshot of the dreadful M1. Not many people realise as they travel the M1 that the Grand Union canal runs right behind the northern carriageway services at Watford Gap and then runs under the motorway itself.

We diverted to Market Harborough after an easy descent of the famous Foxton Locks, where we spent the night and had a good meal at the Waterfront restaurant.

The next day we contacted Louise’s cousin Ruth and she and her granddaughter Rachel, Rachel’s husband Jason and their little daughter Harriet came down to the boat for a short trip. Harriet was enchanted with the whole business of being on a boat and it was great fun.

After a few days we arrived in Nottingham, but not without passage through some very shallow pounds, one of which a rather grumpy lockkeeper (a rare sight on British canals – the lockkeeper not the grumps!) had to fill for us before we could proceed at all. But from Leicester onwards we were on the river Soar and then the Trent, and there was no shortage of water there.

After a night in Newark, we decided to head for Cromwell Lock the next day and trust to luck on the tides, for the onward journey north (downstream).

The lockkeeper at Cromwell suggested we pen out at about 12.30pm to catch the tide and if we over-nighted half way down at Gainsborough, we should set off again at 12pm the following day. OK – we took his advice and penned out at 12.30 and started off down the Trent with about 1½ miles per hour of help from the river. Then after about 15 minutes, we noticed our SOG (speed over the ground) reduce and reduce until it was down to about 3mph.

What we then realised was that the lockkeeper had penned us out about 2 hours too soon and at first we had been travelling down with the normal flow of the river, then we had met the incoming tide!

So we punched on and eventually after a couple of hours we started to be helped by the ebb. We got to Gainsborough at about 5.30 and moored up on the floating pontoon.

The Cromwell lockkeeper had told us to set off again at 12pm the following day so to fill in the morning we re-painted the whole of the side of the boat which had been rain-spoiled. But as 12pm arrived we could see that the tide was still racing in, so we waited until 1.15 when it eventually turned before setting off down to Keadby.

I don’t think in all the times we have travelled up and down the tidal Trent we have ever been given accurate departure times by the local lockkeepers, who are supposed to know, and we think that is pretty poor.

We got into Keadby by about 4pm and Alex had a long chat with the guys working on a Humber keel called Onesimus. We had talked to the owner about 5 years ago but since then the inside had been completely stripped out. In fact, as well as renewing several plates and most of the ribs, and removing the old ‘doubled’ plates from the inside (dangerous stuff - with it still in the water!) the lads were next going to replace all the rivets (250,000!)

Eventually we got back to Methley Bridge moorings having painted the whole of the other side of the boat while moored overnight at the end of the New Cut – our last night aboard. Having got back we also managed to repaint the wood of all the windows, so hopefully she is all set to withstand the winter!!

During most of this trip on ‘The Boat’ Louise has been looking at the names of other boats (as you do) with a view to re-naming the narrowboat now that it belongs to her (sold to her by Alex for £1) Some of them are pretty bizarre like ‘Avdunna’; and endless Meanders, and of course Dunwurkin and Duncommutin etc. Alex’s contribution was ‘Less Cargo’ with a picture of a small snail but Louise didn’t like it much. Then she came up with the best yet - Dunbonkin which really had us laughing. (Fortunately we disproved it the next day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

We had about 5 days to go before we drove back to France so Alex decided (as only Alex could – Louise) that this would be a good time to build the decking where the patio used to be at the back of our pied-a-tèrre in Co Durham. So while Louise rushed around getting together all the things we needed to bring back to France, Alex grafted away laying a base, then the decking boards atop, followed by a handrail with diamond lattice infill to surround it. It is an enormous improvement on what was there before, and we even managed to have our morning cup of tea/coffee on it to christen it the day before we set off for France!

Worcester to Lechlade

We had two options for getting to the most important (for us) wedding – Richard and Diana’s – either back up the Birmingham and Worcester Canal and turn right onto the Stratford on Avon and then the Grand Union, or down the River Severn and back up the River Avon, then onto the Grand Union. As we never like to retrace our steps if possible, we decided on the rather longer rivers’ route. It’s around 40 miles as the crow flies between Worcester and Lechlade – and three weeks by boat!!

So - down the Severn to Tewkesbury (scene of quite recent calamitous flooding) where we did a sharp left into the River Avon (license £50 for a week), moored up for the night (£3) and perused the rather poor Avon booklet we had been persuaded to buy (£6). We had a stroll round Tewkesbury that evening to see if there might be a nice restaurant, and were rather surprised, as we sauntered down the high street, to keep coming across groups of people in sackcloth carrying staves or pikes or such like! We popped into one of the few shops still open at 5.30pm on a Sunday night, an antiques shop, and were informed by the owner that we had just missed Tewkesbury’s amazing Medieval Festival, where one of the largest gatherings of period war re-enactors in the country had staged the Battle of Tewkesbury (1471). Typical!!!!!! We always miss these types of events by a couple of days or so – but in this case by only a matter of minutes!

Needless to say there were no restaurants in the town, only ‘pub grub’ which we didn’t fancy, as we can almost always do better than that on the boat! (Thank you Alex! - Louise)

We stopped for a brief shop and spent the next night at Evesham at the ‘Workman Gardens’ moorings, and then pressed on to Stratford.

At Stratford we managed to find moorings opposite the famous theatre, which of course we looked round. We also went up the ‘new’ tower which had been incorporated in the rebuilding of the theatre, for an excellent bird’s eye view of the town and treated ourselves to a good meal in a restaurant called ‘Lambs’ - a short stroll from the boat moorings.

The next day we were off the Avon River and back onto the British Waterways Stratford on Avon Canal. First stop was one mile up by a bridge where we knew we were close to an Asda and a Tesco for more supplies. That evening we eventually reached Wooton Wewen for the night after a long slog behind a very slow hire boat, so the next morning we started at 8am to get ahead of it, then we did 17 locks up to the junction with the Grand Union, where we had lunch, then we did 17 locks of the Hatton flight down the Grand Union mostly in a pair with another boat – Gemma. (They are double locks here and it’s much better if you can go as a pair). Alex was in fighting form so he did all the locks while Louise manoeuvred the boat. We stopped for the night four locks up from bottom lock and the town of Warwick. Louise had been stung on her foot a day or so before and it had started to swell up quite badly, so we made enquiries of walkers on the towpath as we cruised through Warwick and were told there was a Tesco with a pharmacy at Bridge 46. And sure enough there it was, and they recommended a visit to a doctor’s surgery half a mile up the road. An appointment was available in half an hour. Amazing!! Antibiotics prescribed. They did the trick pretty quickly.

We got soaked to the skin doing the 10 Stockton locks in the morning but by the afternoon it had brightened up for the last 3 locks to Napton Junction. Alex vowed that he would not get wet like that again and we would just stop if it started to rain heavily. Then the next day he FELL INTO THE CANAL trying to lasso a bollard from the side of the boat when it had drifted too far away to step off. So he did get soaked again and cracked a rib into the bargain as he just failed to leap to the shore!

We also had our first dose of canal rage that day when an irate woman in a boat coming the other way accused Louise of ‘stealing’ her lock. Louise had gone ahead to prepare the lock for Alex to bring the boat in, and as it had only about 6”of water leakage in the bottom, she emptied it before opening the gate. This ‘woman’ was convinced the lock had been full and as they were coming the other way they should have had priority. Alex could hear her screaming at Louise from where he was 150m yards away! She was wrong, but would not admit it, of course. But it does leave a sour taste in the mouth for a bit.

In due course we got to Oxford, having spent one pleasurable night on the way in Banbury, where they have done a marvellous job on the canalside and have even retained the historic Tooley’s boatyard in the middle of the new shopping centre! We entered the Thames (£95 for 15 days) and moored close to Osney lock for three nights. This gave us a chance to visit Oxford itself and also to catch a train to London to see Emily and new son Herbie (Alex is a grandpa!!!!!!!!!!) Alice also managed to come along and we all enjoyed a very sociable lunch.

A few days later we were in Lechlade after a lovely trip up the Thames. The river is very picturesque here with low lying water meadows on either side and plenty of places to moor ‘away from it all’ – apart from the local livestock that is.

We had arranged to leave the boat in a boatyard at Lechlade so that we could have power to keep the fridge going and Jamie and Janine arrived to pick us up to give us a lift to the hotel at Cricklade ready for the wedding the following day. With him Jamie had an exchange ‘Calor’ gas bottle (our Yorkshire Energas bottles were the wrong sort to exchange in this area) and two parcels we had had delivered to him: one was an inverter for Louise so that she could use her hairdryer on the boat, and the other an inverter welder so Alex could do a welding repair on the weedhatch cover.

However, as Alex was closing up the boat prior to joining Louise, Jamie and Janine in the car, he was just tidying away a rope that Louise had been drying clothes on, when the end flicked up into the corner of his eye. At first he thought nothing of it, but then as his vision started to blur he wiped his eye with a tissue. Instead of tears on the tissue there was blood!!! The corner of his eye was actually bleeding though it didn’t hurt.

Well, it looked terrible, but the show must go on: the bleeding stopped very quickly and normal vision resumed. An hour’s visit to A & E at the Great Western Hospital the next morning produced the necessary antibiotic ointment and life could return to normal.

Out hotel room for the wedding was excellent: Alex could have as long a hot shower as he wanted and Louise a long hot soak in the bath without worrying about use of precious water. (No room for such luxury on the narrowboat).

We had fish and chips, professionally catered, at the bride Diana’s parents’ home on the Friday evening, where Nigel, her father, made us feel most welcome and we met other members of the wedding entourage.

Louise’s ex-husband Stuart and his wife Tracy didn’t make it to the fish and chip supper but Louise and Alex did manage to bump into them in the hotel just before setting off for the evening so, after 15 years a meeting before the wedding did finally take place.

On the day itself, our close friends Michael and Sylvia and Derran and Angela met up with each other for the first time ever in 25 years (!) and we all had a very jolly lunch together.

The wedding at 4pm went very well in the lovely village church and then we all repaired to Diana’s parents’ home where a marquee had been set up for the occasion. Drinks and canapés first, then an excellent meal and dancing and all the usual paraphernalia of such an event. Altogether a lovely weekend. (Thanks are due to Derran who was responsible for most of the wedding photos attached here – our own were few and pretty poor.)

Poor Jamie was a bit hung over in the morning (!) so Derran and Angela kindly gave us a lift back to our boat where we prepared for the return part of our journey.

UK adventure – Castleford to Worcester

We needed to return to England for the whole of July for two weddings and Alex suddenly decided to turn this into an 'excellent adventure' by going to the two weddings in the narrowboat! The canal system allows us to get within a few miles of each one. It may take a little longer than going by car, but should be more fun!

Peter of Zee Otter very kindly gave us a lift to Aiguillon station and we caught train, airport navette and plane back to Leeds/Bradford airport. The plane was late leaving France so we missed the last airport bus to Harrogate and had to get a taxi. The driver dropped us off in the street where Matt (our car mechanic) had told us he had left our car, but we couldn’t find it! Then we realised we were in the wrong street, and as soon as we got to the right one, there was the car! So a late arrival back at Newton Aycliffe.

We realised that the trip by boat to our first wedding in Worcester was going to be a bit tight so we only spent two days at home, sorting everything out before we set off.

We made good time from our home mooring at Castleford to the start of the New Junction canal getting there about midday. Louise called the lockkeeper at Keadby to book passage for the following morning only to be told that it would be too early for British Waterway’s attendance - 5am – so there would only be an afternoon pen out at 5pm. We were due to arrive in Keadby by early evening anyway so we would have had to wait a whole 24 hours or so until the next evening’s pen out. Alex rang the lockkeeper back to ask what time today’s pen out was – 4 o’clock! Perhaps we could just make it by 5pm and still go. The lockkeeper said OK and booked us in. He had asked where we were and we said at the New Cut – but not at which end! I think he assumed ‘his’ end because he felt sure we could make it in time. But the New Cut alone takes 1.5 hours at the best of times. We opened the throttle wide and went for it.

It’s a commercial waterway, so the speed limit is higher than we can achieve but the first fisherman we passed at about 6 mph complained, ‘Is this a race or summat?’ Actually, yes – a race to catch the tide! We were lucky with the bridges and the lock was in our favour and we managed to shave 10 minutes off our best time for the New Cut! Then we were on the Stainforth and Keadby Canal. As we approached Thorne we came up behind a charity barge going very, very slowly, but they let us overtake – great! So we got first to the lock in Thorne as well. Another boater helped us through and warned that the swing footbridge just beyond was faulty but was about to be fixed open. It was. Excellent! As we arrive another boat was trying to set off through it but had a novice at the tiller, who completely cocked up and her partner waved us through. Phew! We watched for them at the next lift bridge but even after we had got through it and lowered it, they were not in sight so we motored on. The last thing we needed was to be boating with a novice through all the lift and swing bridges to Keadby. Finally we got to the sliding rail bridge just before Keadby and as we arrived it opened as if by magic. (We have waited three quarters of an hour for a long enough break in the trains to let us through at this bridge before now.)

Alex rang the lockkeeper and as we arrived he swung the road bridge and we motored straight in to the lock. 4.30pm!!

When the keeper gave the all clear we shot out onto the tidal Trent with about 4mph of incoming tide to help us and by 7pm we were at Gainsborough. We could have gone on to Torksey but after 11.5 hours non-stop we felt we needed a break and anyway an early start the next morning would get us to Torksey at ‘set off’ time anyway, which it did. We sat at Gainsborough and watched the tide turn at 6am, gave it half an hour to get ahead of us, and then set off. By 4.30pm we were in Newark for our second night. Castleford to Newark in two days – must be a record!

From here on, we thought, we can relax a bit as we have gained a whole day already, but when we got near to Willington on the Trent and Mersey we found they were having an open weekend and there were boats galore queuing at locks, moored boats all over the place to slow down for etc. etc. But finally, the next day, we had the climb up into Birmingham through 24 locks – all against us. Louise’s back was still playing up (over-energetic keep-fit!) so Alex did them all! After a 7am start that morning, we got to Gas Street Basin at 6.30pm – Alex totally knackered. Will and Laura came for supper bringing an Indian takeaway with them and we drank a toast to their recent engagement.

In the morning we stopped just south of Birmingham on the Birmingham and Worcester where Will met us again and we had lunch, and then he took us to see his new house. As we travelled down the B and W canal we learned that the Droitwich arm had just been re-opened the previous weekend, after many years of dereliction, so we decided on a slight detour to Worcester via Droitwich, and the River Severn.

It’s always fun to travel on canals which have just been reopened because all the local inhabitants are so enthusiastic about boats travelling through again they come and chat about how it used to be and how nice it is now etc. Great!

So finally we got to Worcester and into the Diglis Basin where Alex had sweet-talked Jackie into letting us stay for a couple of days with electricity (vital for Louise’s hairdryer for the wedding reception picnic!).

After an afternoon and a following morning discovering Worcester – up the cathedral tower for an eagle’s eye view of the city – the taxi arrived and got us to Spetchley Park Gardens for what turned out to be an excellent post-wedding picnic in the park, followed by dancing and a hog roast – and it didn’t rain! (It threatened to all afternoon but didn’t actually do it). A taxi back to the boat at 11pm completed the first leg of our crazy journey.