The River Soane: Fragnes - Saint-Jean-de-Losne (Or, Mike Doesn't Like Dogs)

"Where's Uncle Mikey?.....They're saying he doesn't like dogs??!"

A relapse into the world of wine drinking in the evening of the bank holiday last Monday changed our plans.  We’d planned to spend the day at Fragnes, then late afternoon head to the next little mooring at a large Leclerc to spend the night, then top up with fuel, both for the engine and us, before heading off early on Tuesday morning on to the Soane and to Chalon-sur-Soane.  However, our flotilla decided that there should be a small gathering for drinks in the evening and us and The Puzzler decided to stay on for that and just move off early next morning.  Knowing we had an early start, I did well nursing a couple of small glasses of wine for the whole evening, but disaster struck as the party broke up around 11pm and as we headed back towards Quaintrelle, Mike casually said, ‘Jake’s asked us in for beers at his if we want….’  How could we refuse?  We finally got home one wine box later at 3.15am………  We love Jake and Rachel, but my liver’s not so keen on them……

Next morning, I leapt out of bed at 8am, made some tea and in the pouring rain cast off for a half hour cruise to the Leclerc.  The crew stayed in bed nursing his head.  The Puzzler had already left and at Leclerc we pulled up alongside them then battened down the hatches against the rain to have some breakfast.  Once human again, we headed off of fill our cans with diesel, then back to the supermarket for some supplies for us.  Back on board we decided to wait for an hour to see if the rain would ease off before moving on.  It didn’t so while The Puzzler decided to stay put for a bit longer, we headed off towards the deepest lock we’ve ever done.

Last little bit of Canal du Centre

Attached to the floating bollard

Down, down, down.....

11 metres later we are at the bottom and the guillotine gate lifts to let us out of the tomb.

A few minutes cruise out of the lock and we reached the wide open expanse of the River Soane, with little flow and thankfully little traffic as we headed downstream towards Chalon-sur-Soane for the night.

Rather large hotel barge makes us feel tiny!

We checked into the marina (our most expensive yet – 24euros, and if we’d wanted electricity it would have been another 2.50!!), but it was secure and quiet despite being in the centre of the town – or within spitting distance of it.  We dodged the stormy showers to explore the nearby shops and whilst unsuccessful on our mission for HP Sauce, Mike managed to get a replacement electric pump for the one that had melted in the engine bay at Decize – so it was a 50/50 success rate.  We then settled in for an early night with no wine.

Before heading off the next day we had a quick walk around Chalon, which is a really pretty town.  We’d visited it very briefly last March in a hire car, but hadn’t had time for a good look and we were glad we did this time as it is really rather nice and somewhere we will visit again.

Mooring at Chalon

Then it was a short hop up to Gergy where we managed a quick walk round the village, looking for the station shown on Google maps, which no longer exists and the line is unused, to print some tickets (which I’d forgotten to print at the station in Chalon), before the heavens opened and we shut up shop for the evening.

Just before we went to bed, and the rain had stopped briefly, we heard an engine and we looked out to see a monster commercial boat pass us by – obviously having waited for all the pleasure boats to go to bed!  We rocked for a good 20 minutes afterwards.

Rain meant a slow start the next day, so slow that we weren’t actually going to move at all, but the mooring at Gergy was a bit soulless and as we saw a few more boats on the move as the rain lightened up and off, we made a quick decision to cruise for a few hours up to Seurre.  It was overcast and a bit cool, but the rain stayed away and only the giant lock with badly-placed (for us) ladder-bollards (they don’t float, you have to move your rope off one and up onto the next one as the water rises) spoiled it for me.  It was terrifying.  We were too short to have a front and back rope on, but didn’t realise this until both ropes were on and I was left standing holding the front rope which stretched out about 10 metres to reach the bollard - the stepped-bollard that I was supposed to unhook my rope off and put it on the next one up as the water rose.  The lock wasn’t too deep, 3metres+ but it was quite feisty for a big automatic one being operated by two lock keepers high in their warm, cosy tower.  As the water rose I shouted to Mike that he’d need to move forward to I could unhook the rope and put it on the next bollard.  He edged forward trying to keep a hold of his rope, leaving me about 8 feet away from the bollard, with the water almost up and over the rope now.  I completely panicked having visions of the rope being caught on the bollard and holding the boat down as the water rose and started having a hissy-fit, so Mike ordered me to the back so he could deal with the front.  At the back, I was ordered to move the boat forward, which proved easy as the stern rope had now been submerged on its bollard, but as it’s a floating rope, it just floated off and I could pull it in and move forward enough for Mike to reach the front rope, which was now under water on the bollard.  After a couple of minutes, he managed to unhook it and move it up to the next bollard but I was really, shaken and had had a big scare.  So Mike did the best thing at that point and tried to take my photo!!

I don't like the look of this....

It's very far to the bollard....

That was scary.  Stop looking at me!

Goodbye and good riddance!

As we continued on to Seurre we discussed how we could manage the next lock better, which thankfully wasn’t until the next day.  At Seurre the sun popped out a few times and we had a walk around the town and bought some coffee eclairs to reward ourselves for not sinking in the lock.

Wobbly water

Mooring at Seurre

A thick fog greeted us the next morning but as it started clearing and the hire boat next to us pulled out to go up the lock, we followed so we could share.

Okay Bee-Man - let's nail this lock!

Up smoothly, safe and sound.

This time we only put the front rope on, tied it off and put the boat in gear to hold her steady, then as it came time to move the front rope up a bollard, I went into neutral to allow Mike to move the rope.  This worked perfectly and we were once again at peace with the French locks.  The next section of the Soane is a canalised diversion off the river and if you’ve ever done the Middle Levels, it would have looked familiar; a long straight ditch with little to see either side and a cold wind coming down the channel.  We were very happy to reach the beautiful little town and port of Saint-Jean-de-Losne, and even happier to see Lazybones, Puddle Duck, The Puzzler and Catherine Clark moored up in the sun, although my liver wept……… 

Fully loaded.

Saint-Jean-de-Losne - the Braunston of the French Waterways

Lovely 'Thames' style mooring.

Everyone was in t-shirts and once moored up we quickly removed our bodywarmers, hoodies and thermal tops and put on something more seasonal.  Sally and Andy were just about to head up to Auxonne on The Puzzler, making the most of the one day of sunshine forecast for the next week, but the others were all staying on for a few more days, so we’d have company.

As it was Friday and sunny, we decided to treat ourselves to lunch at one of the little restaurants on the waterfront and having looked at the menus settled on La Cotiniere, or something.  The menu of the day looked good so we both had that, Mike having terrine to start, me a salad and both chose the ‘Onglet de bouef’ for our main.  We weren’t sure what ‘onglet’ was, but thought you can’t really go wrong with ‘bouef’ in France…..  Mike was to have the first ‘bad’ meal in France.  My meat was fine, it was a cheapish cut, but still tasty and nicely cooked.  There were a few bits of fat that I cut around and scraped but it was fine.  Mike, however, seemed to have a massive piece of fat with a thin covering of meat and barely got anything off it.  Had we been in the UK, we would have complained, but not having a grasp of the language, we both didn’t feel brave enough, and were annoyed at ourselves, cos it really was inedible.  I must look up ‘onglet’……..

Back at the boat, Jake was wandering around with a glass of wine in his hand, but having not long had a glass at lunchtime, we felt it was too early to start.  Jake and Rachel and Trigger hadn’t been on Quaintrelle so they came over for a guided tour, after which the crew of one of the Le Boat holiday boats got talking to Mike (women, young, attractive) and he said they could come for a look as well.  Then Kevin arrived on widebeam Avalon, just in time for the last tour.  I should charge!

Let's get the party started.

The view from our mooring after the party finished.

 Mike did some work for an hour or so and then as we saw everyone gathering along at Lazybones, we took the deck chairs and a bottle of wine and went to join them.  After the bottle of wine was finished, we went back for the wine box, and as the party disbanded at 11pm, we invited Jake, Rachel and Trigger back to ours, where the party continued til 1.15pm.

All I have to say about the next few pics is Mike doesn’t like dogs.

"Whaddya mean he doesn't like dogs!?!  He loves me.  I'm his little bag of sugar and sweetness".

Herby looks fairly attached too - but maybe thought he was resting his head on lumps of cheese...

"I know you love me Uncle Mikey..."

"And I love you too!!!!!!!!"

The previous sunny day had just been a blip on the horizon and the rain was back on Saturday morning, but we weren’t too bothered as we had decided to go into Dijon by train for the day.  After a slight panic at the unmanned station when we couldn’t quite understand the ‘rail works disruption’ poster, we were soon on our way and on reaching Dijon managed to print out the rail tickets I’d forgotten to do at Chalon.  They are for Monday (tomorrow) to get the train to Paris as we’re popping back to Scotland for a couple of days.  Dijon is a lovely city, very pretty and lots of lovely shops.  But it was very, very wet and we were a bit hungover….  We checked in at Tourist Info and then went for some lunch.  After wandering around a bit more looking at the sites, getting new jeans for Mike, we decided to take the tram out to a big mall, where we were completely overwhelmed by the biggest supermarket I’ve ever seen (but it still didn’t have HP sauce!!!).  After a look around there, although it could have been a mall anywhere really, but it was dry, we took the tram back to the station, had a coffee and got the train back.  It was raining quite heavily when we got back and the station is a 20 minute walk from the boat, but as we looked dismayed at the lack of taxis, a local man who’d been on the train and was getting in his car said, “You don’t have a car?” and very kindly gave us a lift back to the town.  He spoke English fluently because he is a diamond dealer and has travelled a lot to London for work.  We were glad to get back on board and get the fire on.

Out token picture of Dijon - it was just to wet for cameras :(

Today it is still raining and we had nothing to do but pack for going away tomorrow and move the boat into the local marina here, where she will stay for the week while we’re away.  It was a bit sad saying goodbye to everyone as they are all going different ways from us, but we might bump into each other round about Paris mid-June, which would be nice.

Meanwhile, we’re looking forward to some sun in Scotland…..now there’s two words you don’t often see in the same sentence – Scotland and sun…..