Bois la Chevre to St Jean des Losne (or, Fighting for Space with the Hire Boats……..)

One of our favourite moorings ever!

It’s hot.  Very hot.  But thankfully we are now on the River Saone, so as soon as we’re moored up, it’s swimming stuff on and over the side to cool down.  Cast your minds back though and we were still on the Canal des Vosges, it was the morning of the 18^th and we were casting off from our rural idyll at Bois la Chevre and on our way to Fontenoy le Chateau.

Another huge blue sky above the tree-lined Vosges

The Narnia lock - with the gates lined with rogue trees and plants

Despite average reports we found the town of Fontenoy rather charming with cobbled streets and both the canal and River Coney running through the middle.  All of the bridges had flower boxes in full bloom, adding to the charm.  It was Wednesday afternoon and the little corner shop and bakery were closed but the large bar was open – and we walked right past!!  As news of low water levels causing restrictions on the northern and central canals of France was dropping into my Inbox from VNF, we chatted with Jane and Billy on WB Lazybones who were stopped on the Canal du Midi in the south due to high waters!!!  It’s been rather stormy down there apparently…….. Mike then settled down to do some boat maintenance as the gearbox oil was due a change as was the air filter.

In the morning I took a walk into town for some croissants and bread and enjoyed another little saunter through the centre and back where just as we were readying to leave the capitaine arrived to take our cash for the previous night.  We had tried to pay the previous night but the capitainerie had been all shut up and she explained that it had been her day off, one of the mechanics for the hire fleet is on holiday and the other had had a call out to assist a boat, so no one had been around – if we’d been up earlier we could’ve had a freebie!!

Croissants and coffee in hand we pushed off for our last day of the Vosges.

Welcoming committee at Fontenoy-le-Chateau

The steep cutting as you leave the town

And the lock with its pretty flower-adorned bridge

Along the way we stopped off for half an hour for a look at the pretty little village of Selles.

You can just see Quaintrelle on the canal, sitting above the river.

Very cute little chaple at Selles

The old bridge at Selles

We had intended to stop for a night here but we had ordered a second (tilting) parasol and a new boat hook which we had arranged to be delivered to the port at Corres.  We’d had notification that all the goods were there so decided to crack on and collect our goodies.

As we left Selles the little German boat that had been in front of us at Fontenoy appeared behind us, so as we pulled into the next lock we waited for them to come in with us.  They were taking for ever and eventually when I could see them I waved to them to come in with us but they declined……….  There weren’t any moorings so I don’t know if they had a problem, had decided to pull in for some reason or simply don’t share locks, but we continued down and on our way.

As we neared the end of the Vosges we passed through the town of Demangeville.  The town itself is a little bit away from the canal but there were houses built alongside the canal that looked like old millworkers houses or something.  Really different from any other houses we’ve seen in France but reminiscent of the terraced houses found in the UK, especially in industrial areas.

The unusual terraced houses at Demangeville which reminded me of the mill towns in the UK

And the only chimney......

One block further back looked to be occupied but the rest looked either derelict, or like the ones in the photo, as if someone had started renovating them (new doors and windows) and then run out of money.

Slightly further on was a lone-standing chimney, probably the remains of whatever works it was that the occupants of the houses were employed at.

Soon after, we reached Corre and the final lock on the Canal des Vosges that would take us down onto the Petit Saone river.

The most flowery lock cottage we've seen!

Bye bye faithful telecommand

Out of the last lock on the Vosges and onto the Petit Saone

We took an immediate right on leaving the lock and moored on the visitor pontoon that is on the cutting leading to the marina.  Because it was on a cutting there was little, if any, flow and we didn’t like the look of it for swimming……. So we headed up to the capitainerie, collected our parcels from the lovely Doris, unpacked them back at the boat and then headed out to dump the rubbish, get rid of our old oil from Mike’s oil change the other day, and get some supplies from the supermarket.

After a shower to cool time it was then time to head for some dinner at the marina restaurant.

After a top up of water the next morning we pushed off down the Petit Saone.  Having not seen an awful lot of traffic for a week or so, there suddenly seemed to be rather a lot and as we approached our first choice for mooring that evening at Montureux Les Baulay, a cruiser came from the other direction and took the last remaining spot…..  Ah well, such is life.  It was a nice day and we continued on to the next option.  

Nice, calm Petit Saone

As we passed a tree on the bank a HUGE cloud of ravens took off but I was too late to get a photo.  So when we spotted some in another tree, Mike hooted the horn, but instead of all flying off and up, they went downwards and it didn't look so impressive.

Nice old mill opposite a mooring that was full.....

These also proved to be full and the first place we managed to get in was the town mooring at Port sur Saone, now a couple of days ahead of schedule as we’d planned hopping between rural moorings for a couple of days!!  We were not impressed and the town did nothing to lift our moods.  The only way I can describe it is a shithole.  Unattractive and with a small but main road with huge trucks rumbling through it really did leave a lot to be desired.  The nicest thing that happened was a group of kids, three boys and girl, about 10 years old, very politely asked if they could see inside the boat and stayed and chatted for ages – they were really very sweet and keen to be asked questions in English!

The icing on the cake was a massive rain storm late in the evening at which point we realised we were moored next to the drain that dispels the water from the pathway and poured a torrent of water all over us for about 20 minutes………..  We consoled ourselves watching the first of our Clint Eastwood; Man With No Name trilogy, a Fistfull of Dollars - It could only get better, surely….

The next morning we were off sharp as we only had a short hop to do and hoped to beat the hire boats to our desired mooring for that night.  As we were readying to pull off one of the cruisers moored with us in Corres came past so we had a quick chat and then shared the lock down with them a couple of km on.  They had been chucked out of Corres!!  When they had gone to pay, the chap had said 20 euros.  But the two rates were; less than 15 metres = 8 euros, over 15 metres = 12 euros.  When they pointed the rates out on the wall, the chap threw their money back to them and told them to leave!  Very bizarre as we had found his wife Doris to be exceptionally friendly and accommodating.

Anyway, exiting the lock, we turned off up the arm to the left and found our desired mooring to be free – hurray!!!!!

Taking advantage of the nice river mooring and good weather we got started on checking our safety equipment ahead of joining the Rhone in the next couple of weeks.  First up we needed to change the gas cylinders on our life jackets as they had expired, but before doing so we decided to see if the expired ones still worked.

Only slightly shocked as it deploys as I hit the water.

It's quite weird as I thought I'd be more supported but it literally just keeps your head up out of the water and is quite uncomfortable really.

Which it did, and was a good exercise to do as I’ve never had to use a lifejacket before and didn’t know what to expect, but now I do should the worse-case scenario happen.

Then we got our lifeboat out – the inflatable kayak which someone had suggested we tie to the roof and have as an emergency support should the worse-case scenario happen.  We thought this was a really good idea so got it out and then made use of to get some pics of the mooring.

Come on wimp - get in!!

Mike taking a picture of me taking a picure of Mike taking a picture of me taking a picture.......

Two dogs out for a wee evening boating.......

A few boats came and looked at the mooring but seeing us there turned around and we were left in peace and quiet for the rest of the evening.

Mike had been up through the night with knee pain so we weren’t quite as sharp on the off as we’d have liked to have been to try and get moored where we wanted, Ray-sur-Saone and sure enough, when we got there four hours later it was full of cruisers, which we can’t go alongside as we’d crush them……..  So we turned and went back up the lock we’d just come down and headed to Soing along a 3km deviation.  Which was also full of cruisers, so we hummed and hawed, had a good look at the bank but ended up heading back along the deviation to a spot at the end that we’d eyeballed as the last resort – a bankside picnic spot with one cruiser moored up.  As we pulled in we realised why no one else was there as the cruiser was running one of the loudest generators I have ever heard and as they spotted us, their two large German Shepherd dogs went into guarding mode, which they’d clearly been trained to do, so we backed away and headed back downstream almost to where we’d started and pulled up just before the deviation for the lock started.  It wasn’t ideal, a high, sloping wall with bollards on top, but the French chap in the cruiser moored up came and took our lines for us and then we found we could get onto the bank using our plank.  On a plus side we had an excellent internet signal so indulged in an evening of tv!

The final and only available option

A wee wander around the village delivered the bare remains of an old mill with some of the mechanisms still in situ

Another hot and sunny with a slight breeze day greeted us the following morning and we set off for Gray where there were various mooring options one of which is a +100m stone quay, so we were confident we’d get in.  

The tunnel entrance reminded me of the pyramids.

This seemed an extraordinarily large tower for the size of building!

Quaintrelle sporting her new cream, tilting parasol

En route, we passed down Lock 13 which proved unlucky for us at the back behind a French liveaboard as the walls not only leaked, they gushed huge torrents of water which came in through our closed windows and soaked the settee and living room floor.  Fortunately no long term damage, but a bit scary and very annoying!!  The lock keeper must have known this would happen and had said nothing……….  The first moorings at Gray were full, so we passed through the lock and towards the stone quay, which despite its size was almost full!!  The town is rather shabby and not really worth a visit but the free water and electricity, not to mention lack of moorings elsewhere, seem to attract the boats.  We caught up with De Bomme, the really beautiful boat we’d seen on the Vosges and discovered they are heading south to pick up their mast at Port Saint Louis and head out onto the Med, so we’ll hopefully see them again – very nice couple.

 

Lovely building in the old part of Gray

Cute roundabout at Gray

Before leaving the next morning, we shuffled back along the quay to access a water point and filled our tank ahead of a 9.45am departure to cover 7km to our next desired mooring.  Our timing paid off and there was plenty of room at Mantoche with some of the hire boats not having headed off yet by the time we arrived.  A swim was in order to cool down and formed the main structure of the day; swim, laze around, get hot, swim, do some chores, get hot, swim….. you get the gist……. By evening the moorings were full again but with some lovely, chatty holiday makers all enjoying themselves and as we barbequed our tea there was a real holiday feel about the place.

Now there's a nice-looking pad!

Don't look now, but we're surrounded....!!!!

Fantastic mooring at Mantoche

Here's what to do with the kids of a summer evening......

A baking hot Wednesday at 34 degrees took us to Auxonne and pastures revisited.

Last year we came out of this junction, Canal du Champagne Bourgogne

A horrible site to see below the lock.  Looks like she was a lovely thing too  :(

The visitor moorings all full we headed back up to the marina and pulled in for a night, 15 euros.  A quick swim in the river to cool off I then showered and changed and headed into town for a legwax, to Institut Cybele where I’d been done last year and found them to be excellent.  Getting waxed in such temperatures is not such a good idea and I was like a (hairfree) wet rag by the time I was done.  The shock of getting a mention on BBC 6 Music’s Tea Time Theme Time was too much for Mike and he took to bed with a migraine around 7pm, while I watched some tv and tried to cool down.

 

Where we hoped to be popping out this year, off the Rhone au Rhin Branche Sud.......

The next day was a short trip down to St Jean des Losnes where on arrival we filled up on red and white diesel and then looked to moor on the steps, which were full.  However, we’d eyeballed a couple of potential boats to go alongside with and as we pulled near a nice French couple waved us in against them.  

We then headed to the restaurant for lunch as it was too hot to cook on the boat again so we decided to have a lunch and then would just need a snack in the evening.  Just as we finished our main course, a couple of boats left leaving a Quaintrelle sized space, so Mike left me with my ice-cream and went to move her, apparently to the disappointment of the French couple……  Whilst we’d been alongside, De Bomme had arrived and were alongside a barge at the end and as the afternoon drew to a close more boats came looking for room and went alongside others.  We took in a large hire boat with a French couple and their young adult son, one of their mothers and another lady – a friend or sister, I’m not sure.  They were from near Nice and all spoke English and were just delightful.  They were so grateful to be invited to moor alongside they took us for a beer and we spent an interesting hour or so chatting with them.  We discovered that Alain has two jobs; he is an osteopath and he trains racing car drivers!!!  Needless to say, he and Mike had a happy conversation about cars exchanging photos etc.

In the evening, it was so hot, I wasn’t hungry but Mike nipped up to the takeaway and got the last kebab of the day, which I ate an end of.

Then it was off to bed as tomorrow we leave the Petit Saone and join the Saone and the hire boats will be swapped for the large commercial barges that travel on her as we continue our way southwards.

Auxonne to Chagny (Or, The Very Bad Day and Aileen Has A Tantrum!)

What's that coming under the bridge - is it a monster??

We had a TERRIBLE day on Thursday 12^th, really awful and I was ready to jack it all in.  Of course, it was all first world problems when you look back and put it all into perspective, but nevertheless, it’s a day I’d prefer not to do again.  But before I open my laptop and let my fingers rumble about The Bad Day, let me take you back a week or so and we were off on our hols to Carcassonne.

It was a very early start for us on Saturday 30^th as our train from Auxonne was at 7.50am and it was a 20 minute walk to the station, however, as it was getting light as we left we didn’t feel too bad.  Our trains all ran on time and at 13.28 we pulled into Carcassonne, the sunny south of France for a week’s holiday with the ski crowd.

 

I had brought my waterproof with the hope if I did, I wouldn't need it....

We were not amused at all by the weather forecast and having arranged to meet the owners of the gite we were renting at 4pm headed into the town centre for some lunch and a glass of wine.  After doing some food and wine shopping and a little later than 4pm, we took a taxi out to our accommodation for the next week.

The gite was amazing, in the village of Arzens on the outskirts of Carcassonne, it had been the paternal grandparents’ home of the woman and brother who now run it, and they had been winemakers so it was on a very grand scale.  Marie Christine was delightful and with her English-speaking mother, Mme Guilhelm, assisting, showed us where everything was that we would need for our week.

By 6.30pm, they left us to it, Mike started making the tea, the wine was cracked open and the rest of the gang arrived in dribs and drabs.

We drank a lot of wine that week in between chilling out by the pool on the warmer (hungover) days, visiting Carcassonne, touring the local area to take in Minerve and some of the local caves, Homps where we tasted wine by the canal, Castelnaudary, where we tasted wine by the canal again…. We also looked for Richard and Fiona’s boat Ilona (who we met on the Nivernais), but didn’t see her, so she must have still been out cruising, taking advantage of the warm autumn.  We ate and drank well and had great fun back at the gite in the evenings chatting, playing pool, and wine tasting.  We were also invited to Couffoulens, where Marie-Christine and her mother live in the family chateau, and invited us to taste their wine.  Although they have had vineyards for a long, long time, they used to sell the grapes for someone else to make the wine, but last year, Marie-Christine and her mother decided to start bottling it and selling it themselves.  The cave is being done up so they can do visits and tastings.  The chateau was absolutely amazing and we felt very privileged to be invited into their home and shown around.  We left shortly after a loud crack from an antique sofa proved that the French design of legs only at the ends doesn’t really support two large men and a medium-sized  woman that well……….

 

View of Minerve from a panaromic viewpoint

Looking up at Minerve from the river bed

The huge cave at Minerve carved by the waters

No trip to the South is complete without a lunch date at Domaine Gayda

Despite our appearance, they still let us in

Coffees on the terrace

Blending in with the locals at Fanjaux

Patchwork countryside

One of the best "stumbled upon" places for lunch ever!

My dessert, from my 15euro three course meal which included a large glass of wine!!!

Not sure if that's the devil or an angel on Ali's shoulder - or just a second head........

The Addams Family!

All too soon our week was over and we were back on the train to Auxonne.  As we alighted our final train I noticed Mike was limping slightly and he said his foot felt a bit tender……. 

 

Hello old girl - have you missed us??

Sunset at Auxonne

The next morning it was clear that this was the start of a flare-up of his tendon access inflammation condition as his foot had swollen considerably.  We rammed 800mg of ibuprofen into him, as per the consultant’s instruction when we’d last seen him and crossed our fingers we’d nip it in the bud.  Trying to rest it as much as possible I walked over to the capitainerie to pay our fees before we headed off to St Jean des Losne.

Mike took the tiller which meant he could rest the foot a bit rather than going up and down the boat and sorting ropes etc on the locks, continued with the high dose of ibuprofen for the day and noted it wasn’t getting any worse.  Coming into St Jean des Losne it felt like the end of the holiday as we were now on familiar waters we’d covered earlier in the year and would be until we turned down the arm off the Canal Lateral a la Loire to Roanne.  Still unable to face a glass of wine since the Carcassonne over-indulgence, we had a quiet night and headed early to bed.

Mike had slept fitfully and his foot was now getting quite sore, but the next morning we walked up to the chandlery to buy some bits and pieces, including the books we will need for our routes next year – exciting!!  I had to go on ahead as Mike was going slowly and the chandlery was closing in 20 minutes, but he got there and we got what we needed and slowly hobbled back to the boat.  We kind of messed up our timings with our long lie, as we wanted to buy red diesel for the heating at St Jean des Losne before we continued on, but the wharf was now closed and wasn’t opening til 2.30pm – we’d thought it opened at 2pm….  So we had lunch and I worked out that we’d still have plenty time to get down to Seurre and down the lock before it closed at 6pm.

We pulled up at the wharf at 2.25pm at which point we saw the sign saying that today it’d be opening at 3pm due to a meeting….. At 69p (77cents) a litre, we didn’t want to miss out as we needed about 180 litres, which would see us through the winter.  The last time we’d filled had been when we were here in May!  Another boat joined us to wait, but by 3.40pm they’d given up….. we hung on and decided that we would just wait and then if we didn’t have time to get down to Seurre we’d stay another night here.  The (very apologetic) lady arrived just after 3.50pm and we were done and on our way by 4pm.  It was then that I realised I’d miscalculated our distance by a few kms and suddenly it would be extremely tight to get through the lock before it closed.  We hammered on down the river at 9km an hour (rock and roll!!) and I then decided to double-check the lock times….. this one was manned until 7pm – phew.  We could’ve taken the foot off the floor at this point but it’s a really boring bit of river, a deviation off the Saone which is a long straight cutting reminiscent of the Middle Levels, except with plenty of depth.

 

Not only did we make the lock at Seurre in plenty of time, they held it for us to go down with this big beauty!  (Lillyanne's big sister Pip???)

Our bright companion continues on while we pull into the port of Seurre on the left.

We were shattered as we moored up and I headed off to the capitainerie to pay for our night’s stay.  At 17euros, we made the most of the facilities and plugged into the power and filled the water tank.  Mike then continued resting his foot while I made the tea and did my usual jobs of setting up the telly and computer to watch BBCiPlayer, made the bed up, got drinks when required (still scunnered off the wine) and fell into bed shattered for another sleepless night while Mike tossed and turned and moaned and groaned with his elephantesque (by now) foot.

Tuesday morning arrived under the cover of a thick mist, and word of a strike that may potentially affect the locks ie. they may be closed if the lockies were out on strike.  We waited for the mist to clear and a few hire boats to head up the lock at Seurre and then confident that we could see and the locks were open pulled off in a small flotilla of hire boats and headed southwards to Gergy.  It was an uneventful day with the only excitement being the fact we really needed a pump out as the light had been on for a couple of days.  We’re reluctant to pump-out in a port as it’s not very pleasant for the neighbours, but trying to find somewhere to pull into on the side of the river had been proving impossible.  At Gergy we were on our own on the remote pontoon, so we quickly got the gear out and started to pump out, the tank breathing a sigh of relief as we held our breath……  We were on our third bucket of rinse water when we realised a boat heading downstream was pulling over to the side to come in.  The smell hadn’t wholly dissipated and we could have done with another rinse, but we quickly finished, cleaned up and were just packing the kit away as they pulled in.  A lady then came down the gangplank, stepped over the hose, climbed on their boat and as we were putting the kit back in the locker, they pulled off again……grrrrrr….. could’ve had that extra rinse!!

Having exerted his foot somewhat with a bit of pumping, Mike retired to the settee with a bucket of water, ice-pack and pain killers while I did everything else – willingly – for the moment……..

 

It feels better when they operate a large lock for several of us, rather than just one incy ickle narrowboat...

Wednesday dawned clear and bright, we’d had no rain since we came back from Carcassonne and once the days had warmed up, we were back in shorts for the afternoons.  Today we were glad to get off the river and onto the Canal du Centre and headed up the giant 10m lock to the port at Fragnes, with a stop en route at the huge L’Eclerc supermarket.  Mike had had a bad night on the settee with his foot, so walking around the supermarket was out of the question, and it seemed to still be getting bigger at times, though the swelling seemed to move around his foot between his toes and his ankle, or should that be ‘cankle’…..  So we stopped at the supermarket and I went and got the shopping, which was fairly easy as you can wheel the trolley to the top of the stairs to the mooring, though the stairs could do with a bit of tlc.  Getting some diesel however was abandoned for another time and we continued on the half hour cruise to Fragnes, where we moored behind the American tourists who Mike had shouted at for going past us too fast whilst I was at the supermarket, causing us to bang against the uneven metal piling and scratching off some of the blacking.  They didn’t understand his initial communication of, “Trop Vite!!  TROP VITE!!!” – however, “YOU’RE GOING TOO FUCKIN’ FAST!!!!” seemed to do the trick.

 

Bright autumn days continue as we leave Gergy

There was a working boat and a commercial loading up that we had to squeeze between to reach the lock from the Saone up onto the Canal du Centre

We couldn't fit in with the two hire boats ahead so had to wait for the lock.

Going up?!  This lock is so smooth it's like being in a giant lift!

Sunshine and blue skies await us at the top as we come onto the Canal du Centre

Mike doesn’t do resting very well, so even while his foot was bad and he was ‘resting’ it, after a few minutes he was up rubbing back paint, filling, undercoating as it is also the time of year for touching up the paintwork and varnishing the shutters.  Of course, once Mike has done the preparation, I do the more delicate paintwork as I have a steadier and more patient hand for staying in the lines.  So inbetween everything else, shopping, cooking, waiting on the patient, my usual jobs of tv and making up/taking down the bed, I was varnishing the shutters that Mike had stripped back and allowed to dry out the previous few days.  Then at Fragnes, I was sent out to collect a bag of kindling from the local park, which I did and snapped it all into the right size to fit in the drawer under the stove.  Shattered yet again, once I’d made the tea, cleared up and emptied the recycling along at the port, we headed to bed for me to get a good night’s sleep and Mike not to.

Unable to sleep during the night, Mike came to bed around 6am and fell into a sound sleep, so I left him until just after noon.  After I’d made breakfast, cleared the dishes, made the bed up and filled the tank with water, we headed off, and decided that with the foot not going down any and no pain killers or anti inflammatories having any effect, we should go to the pharmacy when we reached Chagny.  The day started off easily enough, with us remembering that we needed to enter and exit the locks on the Canal du Centre in the middle, otherwise the sensors in the middle of the lower gates wouldn’t register us entering the lock and the lock wouldn’t operate.  The locks were a mixture of reasonable 2.5 or so metres, with the odd 5m one chucked in.  At the first 5m we seemed to be stuck on a red light, so I got off and went to see what was happening.  The top gates were still open but there were no other boats in sight, so after about 5 minutes I pushed the comms button for assistance just after which a boat appeared coming round the corner to go down.  I went back to the boat and we waited for the green light to go.  My pushing of the button, however, had sent VNF over to see what the problem was, which was just as well really as the lock was horrible.  We tied onto the floating bollard at the front, and as we were using floating bollards, Mike decided to use the rope at the back as well and come up just on ropes, not using the engine to hold her into the side.  Big mistake.  Because of our length we were sat over the ground sluices and they showed absolutely no mercy.  Seconds in and water was spraying up the side of the boat and she shot out into the middle of the chamber, the tied-on front line snatched at its limit and she rolled to the side.  Meanwhile at the back, Mike was trying to hold onto his rope as he was pushed out at the same time as trying to use the engine to get us back under control.  It was awful and I’m so glad the lock keeper was there to stop it if necessary.  It wasn’t however, and we came under control and glided up the rest of the way fairly smoothly.  At the top, the lock keeper said he’d meet us at the next big lock as if he worked it, he could bring the water in more slowly.  He reiterated that we must make sure we go in and out in the middle of the chamber so the sensors see us, which we had been doing so I’m not sure what the problem was.  After the next two deep locks (STOP PRESS – ONE OF THESE WAS OUR 3000^TH LOCK!) it soon became clear that we are actually too low to trigger the sensor going in under the lower gates.  We had a few of these to endure and each time was just as scary as the first and I was starting to dread them and even put my life jacket on after the first one – I just didn’t trust them at all.  Meanwhile, Mike was beginning to struggle with his foot, so it was with huge relief that, having had someone flag us to slow down as we passed their moored boat at tick-over in a deep channel, causing no wash and not causing any boats to move a muscle, that we finally reached Chagny and moored in at the nice new empty port.  I went to answer a call of nature which meant when the capitaine pitched up, Mike had to speak to her, which didn’t please him, but I hissed, “I’m in the fuckin’ toilet, what do you expect me to do!!”  Turns out she spoke good English, and when we said we wouldn’t need water or electricity, she suggested we moor on the quay opposite which was free, whereas she’d still have to charge us if we stayed where we were – very kind.  So we moved the boat, then locked her up and headed to the nearest pharmacy, 0.4km away.  I walked on ahead as it shut at 7.30pm and it was now 6.25pm, but just over 2/3 of the way there, my phone lost signal and suddenly google maps told me I was 45 minutes away and had moved me to an entirely different part of the town……..  Not knowing the town at all, I wasn’t confident enough to continue on without guidance in case we went off on a wild goose chase and missed the pharmacy, so I turned around back towards the town centre, meeting Mike hobbling along and decided I’d had enough.  Enough of google maps, enough of no signal, enough of his sore foot, enough of the boat, enough of no tv, enough of painting, varnishing, pumping out our own toilet, having to squeeze past the only other occupant of our home cos it’s so small, having to make the bed up every night and morning.  Just ENOUGH!!!!!!  So much ENOUGH I did the best thing under the circumstances and burst into tears and threw my phone to the ground, not once, not twice, but three times.   But each time onto grass cos I didn’t reeeeaaaaalllly want it to break……..

Back in town I reached another pharmacy with 10 minutes to spare before its 7pm closing time.  I had written an explanation of Mike’s condition on google translate, so after explaining he had a problem with an inflamed foot, let her read the background.  Having established he’d been on ibuprofen for three days, she said that she was unable to give anything stronger without a prescription and could Mike go and see a doctor?  Mike arrived at this point and when she saw his foot she said he really should see a doctor and offered to phone one for us.  We leapt on the chance to see the GP and a few minutes later, with the aid of a newly purchased walking stick, we walked the 50 yards to wait in a line of three to see the doc.

She spoke no English, but was very pleasant, and was visibly shocked by the size of Mike’s foot.  Again, I showed her the explanation, established that it’s not gout (or la goutte), and she had a good look, took his blood pressure, checked his pulse and then wrote out a prescription for him; steroids, strong pain killers, and another bright blue pill that said, ‘opium powder’ on the box (?).  “That’ll be 50 euros.” She said as she busied herself putting her kit away.  Now, when I saw the doc last year in Carcassonne, it was a standard 25 euros and you filled in a form that the GP signed, for claiming it back when you get home, under the reciprocal health arrangements we have as members of the EU (oh, happy days…..).  There was no form here, and despite the card machine on the desk, she insisted on cash only – well, it saved her a trip to the cashline and to be honest, we’d have paid 100 to get the prescription……  She then rang a pharmacy, due to close in 5 minutes, to ask if they’d wait for us, but having seen where it was, we asked if there was a local taxi company as it was a 20 minute walk away (the first one we’d tried to reach!) and we didn’t have a car.  When she learned this, she quickly picked up the phone again and phoned another one 50m down the road where there was still someone there, even though they were now closed.  They said they’d wait for us, so we thanked the GP for her help and waddled down to the pharmacy.  The pharmacist was lovely and spoke a bit of English, as he unlocked the doors and let us in to get our drugs.  Having established that Mike could drink with these drugs, we asked if there was a local taxi firm we could call as we couldn’t face the walk up to the port again.  Not only did they find a taxi company, but they called them for us and arranged for them to pick us up immediately from outside the pharmacy.  You know, you so often get help like this, or hear from other boaters of stories where they’ve been helped like this and you really have to hand it to the French – they don’t like to see someone in difficulty.

With a mouthful of pills swallowed, back at the boat we opened a bottle of wine and I got on with making the tea.  Within a few hours Mike’s foot seemed to ease off and whether it was the drugs, the relief or the wine, I don’t know, but when we went to bed (after chasing off a youngster trying to knick the life-ring off the roof), Mike hit the deck and slept soundly right through.

What a day.  So full of shit, but then so full of kind, helpful people that restore your faith in humanity.  

(Apologies for the lack of photos for the last couple of days of this entry but a) we've done this bit before and there was nothing new and b) I really wasn't in the mood!).