Joinville to Langres (Or, "We Appear To Be In Some Sort of Arctic Microclimate....")

Mooring at Rolampont - it's a very rural canal and very beautiful.

We were sad to say goodbye to Paul and Carol the next morning as we’ve loved their company, but we left promising to come and visit them in Spain over winter, as they are renting an apartment for a few months in the new year.  We were also sad to be on the move as it was pissing it down (to put it mildly).  It wasn’t to be our best day’s boating…..  The locks were deep and as we were going up, I was having to climb on the roof and do ‘ma thang’ with the pole and rope.  This is not fun in the rain with a wet slippy roof, wearing wet, slippy waterproofs, so I put on a life jacket just in case but as we pulled into one lock, slightly deeper than the rest, I just couldn’t reach up over the lip of the lock to reach the bollard – I could barely see the bollard let alone lasso it…..  So we swapped places and I manoeuvred Quaintrelle over to a ladder so Mike could climb up the wet, slimy ladder with the rope to get us tied on.

Not happy.

Then one of the locks wouldn’t activate.  We sat in the chamber waiting, having pressed the magic button on our remote control, but nothing.  So Mike climbed the ladder again, pressed the remote again and then went over to the little control hut where there was an emergency contact button you could use to speak to the control back at St Dizier.  He did so, and managed to give them the lock number and the word ‘problem’ in French.  When he came back, there was no sign of anyone so I called the number on the control and said the gates wouldn’t shut.  The response, after a brief exchange, was, “Quelle can arrive”.  I had no idea what this meant, quelle = what, arrive = to come but what the hell was that in the middle???......  I gave our direction of travel, which was met with a patient, “Je sais.” And finally after a few minutes of trying every available piece of information he might be asking me for, he said,” Someone is coming.”  Ahhhhh…..”Quelqu’un arrive….” – why didn’t he say……..

We continued on in the rain, with the fire lit, in September, in France – not what we had experienced at this time of year last time we were here.  We weren’t happy.

We arrived at the little Haulte Nautique at Donjeaux, moored up behind DB Brunel, had a very quick chat with the chap who came out to say hello and explain that only one of the amenities posts had electric working, but the water was on, and then ducked inside as the heavens opened again.  We spent the rest of the day shut up inside with the fire on trying to dry off and moaning about the weather, which was due to be more of the same for the next week or so.  Boo!!

At least the rain allowed me to finish the jigsaw!

The next morning Brunel were off and away just as we were getting out of bed, our body clocks thrown by the darkness of the morning and thundery clouds overhead.  Well, actually, we’re never up before 8.40am………during the week……..9.30am on the weekend…….  We had our breakfast, wrapped up got the fire on and set off.  It’s a really pretty canal with some stunning scenery, but unfortunately our opinion of it has been tainted by the terrible weather and tricky locks.  They’re not that tricky I suppose, but we’re just too little to easily reach the bollards when coming up.  In lock 28 we were hugely pleased to see stepped bollards in the wall of the lock, which meant we could easily reach to get a rope on, and would just need to cut the revs half way up to move the rope from this bollard up on to the side.  It’s a manoeuvre we’ve done several times so we weren’t worried and we had a smooth ride up.  At lock 29 it was the same set up, different side with the stepped bollards spaced out differently – which is where we made our first error.  We always try and stay as far back as possible when coming up a lock as you get bounced about less, so we hooked on to a stepped bollard that allowed us to do so.  Mike shouted to me asking if there was enough space at the back, and I thought he meant between me and the lower gates, which there was, so I gave an affirmative.  What he was really meaning was, is there enough space at the back to reverse so I can reach the stepped bollard to get the rope off and move it, as it was halfway along the boat……

Well, it turns out there wasn’t enough space and Mike couldn’t get back to get the rope off and move it, so we had to loosen the rope off the boat and rise with the rope left around the bollard several feet under water.  At the top we got the boat hook and tried for about 10 minutes to get the rope off.  You’d think it would be easy, but as the VNF guys said when they arrived a few minutes later, it was impossible.  “You go ahead, we’ll empty the lock, retrieve your rope and leave it at the next lock for you.”  We did as they said and sure enough, at the next lock, there was our rope hanging down the side waiting for us.  Great guys!!  Through a lift bridge and the rain was now coming and going in heavy showers, but when it wasn’t raining, it was windy and we reached the port we hoped to moor in and there wasn’t space for us.  The lock keepers had warned us they didn’t think there was when they’d helped with our rope and advised there was a quay we could moor at after the next couple of locks.  Having not enjoyed the day so far, the thought of an extended cruise as the skies became thundery again did not please us and I’d have traded the boat at that moment for a wooden shack on land (with running water, a toilet, fitted kitchen, good internet  and a king-size bed obviously…..).  We finally moored up at Bologne for the night, which was a really pleasant mooring but as the rain came on again, we battened down the hatches for the night fairly early on and didn’t really see much of the area.

Huge fields of sunflowers waiting to be harvested line the canal in this region

Mike runs ahead to check mooring space as I bring her through yet another lift bridge

 

Bologne??  We are in France....aren't we..????

Lovely quiet rural mooring

Extremely hacked off with the weather and expecting more rain later in the day, we set off on Friday 15^th for Chaumont where we would stay a few days.  The morning was clear and bright but bitterly cold and you could see your breath in the morning air, it felt just like being in England!  It was an interesting day’s cruise with more locks, bridges and then a short tunnel with a lock at one end and a lift-bridge at the other.  We would have probably enjoyed it had the weather been better but it tainted everything.  Just to endear us further to this day, at the end of the tunnel after the swing bridge, a lock keeper pulled up and gave us a row for something.  He seemed unhappy that we had pressed the button on the remote twice to get entry to a few of the locks further back.  I explained that when we pressed it once nothing happened, and it was only on the second press that the green light came on and the lock began to prepare for us.  He was trying to tell me why we shouldn't (I think, he spoke no english), and at one point said "too long to leave", which further confused me as we're always quick off the mark getting out of a lock and had been previously given a row for leaving before the gates were fully open!  Maybe he was just having a bad day, so I said, Je suis desolee.  Je ne comprends pas bien mais j'appuye le bouttonne une fois seule."  At the next lock, the sign to press the button was round the corner before the lock and remote signals don't bend!  We sat and waited and waited, but the green light didn't come on so we pressed it a second time and it did.  Maybe we were on candid camera waiting........

 

This little village's welcome committee next to the visitors mooring

One of the prettiest village moorings we've seen.

The river Marne running along below the canal

In one end.....

......and out the other..

And straight under a lift bridge - keeps you busy this canal

The old stone Kilometre marker tells me we have done 106kms of the 224kms of this canal

Three hours and 12km and 4 locks later, the heavens opened and the rain was coming down in stair rods as we entered our fifth and final lock of the day, finally mooring up and taking shelter until it stopped.  The little port at Chaumont is a couple of kilometres from the town, so once the rain abated and the sun came out, we walked up the hill for a look and to top up on our food stocks.  Before heading into the supermarket we decided to explore the town and bit and see if there was a butcher we could buy our meat at.  There was, and after initial annoyance at the woman who started to serve us but then went to answer the phone and didn’t come back, my day improved 100-fold with the arrival of the handsome young man who came to take over.  He was soooooooo good looking!!  I was delighted.  Dark hair, cheek bones, bright blue eyes and a smile that made his whole face twinkle.  I tried to think of as many bits of meat we wanted as possible as I wanted to stay in there as long as I could smiling away at him……sigh……….  I’ll never forget the butcher at Chaumont……..  The town itself was nice, good shops and a wonderful Jesuit church which was hosting an exhibition celebrating 100 years of the Americans helping them out in WWI.  We stayed there for three days, but as the weather was so crap the whole time, I didn’t get any pictures at all!!

On Saturday Brunel turned up and we managed a chat with them before another visit up to the town later on in the day, as the ‘sunny!!’ (yes, SUNNY) morning was spent playing on the Ninebot.  Having got so far with our new skills, we’d hit a wall and really needed some quality practice time to learn setting off on our own and turning.  One of the buildings next to the port provided the perfect practice circuit of tarmac allowing us to go round and around the building undisturbed, as it was closed for the weekend.

On Sunday, it rained all day, but we got some more Ninebot practice in in between showers and before Fran and Sally arrived.  They were staying in a nearby b&b and would use a combination of bikes and car to accompany us along the canal for the next couple of days.  It was great to see them, not least because they brought a box of Kipling Bakewell Tarts and a jar of jam – thank you!!  Sadly the rain stayed all night, so our dreams of drinks on the back deck in the balmy evening were fouled and we all huddled indoors around the fire.

After filling with water on Monday morning we headed off around 10.30 (again cold enough to see your breath), expecting Sally and Fran to catch us up on their bikes within the hour.  Just as we were starting to get a bit worried, at almost 12.30 they appeared after a longer cycle than they’d anticipated as they’d taken a bit of wrong turn somewhere.  They accompanied us to Foulain, where our mooring for the evening provided a picnic table where we enjoyed curry and a few glasses of wine for tea.  Fran went log hunting for us and we had a play on the Ninebot, using it to go into the small village for a look around.

 

Feels like boating through the mountains with these great trees!

Bring on the Bakewells!  Happy days :)

They're in the process of automating the last remaining manual locks on this canal, so for a day or two we were accompanied by a lock keeper who put us through. It did mean being back to the nanny-state boating; where are you going? What time are you leaving tomorrow? Where will you be going?...........

There they are!!

Lovely mooring with our own picnic site :)

Cute wee church at Foulains

Despite the damage, this is one of the most beautiful little statues.  I was really taken with her.

 The next day was dry but cold again and Fran and Sally arrived for their day’s excursion just as we were getting out of bed, having slept in a little – I blame the cold!!  Fran took the helm for most of the journey down to Rolampont where we moored up with a cruiser with an English couple (who had previously owned a narrowboat!) on board.  Fran and Sally took off back to Foulains to collect the car and Mike and I took the Ninebot into Rolampont and bought some cakes for afternoon tea when they got back.  After a game of boules, which Mike won (we’ll never hear the end of it…..) we went out in the car to Langres for dinner.  We then said our farewells as Fran and Sally were driving back home the next day whilst we would take the boat to Langres.

The signs on the lock houses still have the old name of the Canal de la Marne a la Saone - now, of course, the Canal Entre Champagne Bourgogne

Brace! Brace! Brace!..... Fran's at the helm... ;)

Very pleased with myself having just started off by myself

The start of the winter wood collecting.....

Looks like a pro - shame he doesn't play like one!

You can tell by MIke's face that Fran has taken the lead at this point.

But he clawed it back from 9-4 to win!!!

Most of the locks on this stretch were over my limit of 3.5m to reach the rope over with the boat hook from the roof, so Mike was up and down the ladders for most of the day.  Like Chaumont, the port at Langres is quite a distance from the actual town which sits on top of a hill, but after two runs to the Intermarche, one for fuel, and one for food, we didn’t have the energy to go all the way up into the town and decided to leave that for the next day.  As Mike was making dinner, a couple, who were camping nearby in their motorhome, came past to chat.  I only got the wive’s name, Doreen, which is annoying as they were a really interesting and lovely couple.  They had bought a narrowboat in 1976 and had cruised around the UK for 20 years on her, Tandy was her name.  They would have been pioneers of the waterways for leisure at that time and said there were hardly any other boats on the water, especially around London – changed days!!  They had lived in Bristol and Fenny Compton (Jill and Alan R!), where Doreen was the caretaker of the marina, which was fairly empty in those days, as it was the only way they were allowed a residential mooring!  They only gave her up when Doreen’s health took a turn for the worse when she was diagnosed with MS and sadly, she is now wheelchair bound.  It hasn’t stopped them exploring though and they were off on the road again early the next morning.

 

Last lift bridge before Langres

Moored at Langres in the sun again at last!

The next day dawned bright and sunny and was due to get warmer as the day went on.   We were staying another night in Langres so took advantage of the weather to strip the varnish back from the shutters as, yet again, over the summer they had blackened with moisture getting in under the varnish.  We both worked away with the electric sander and paper, and when we were finally done mid-afternoon, gave the boat a wash to get rid of the dust.  Unfortunately the owners of the boat behind came back from town to find they also needed to give their boat a wash – sorry………..  We had been going to get the bus up into town, but couldn’t be bothered, so instead, entertained the other boaters by getting the Ninebot out and having a practice, before heading to a little restaurant on the canal for dinner, Relais la Marne.  The meal was good and excellent value at 20.90 euros for a three course meal, and we were joined by two of the other boaters, a Belgian couple and their basset hound, Hector.  An and Steve have been boating a while and were good company, so hopefully we’ll see them again.

We’d be off in the morning, and after two locks, would be on the summit of the Canal Entre Champagne Bourgogne.  It will be all downhill after this…….