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!).

Canal du Centre: St Berain-sur-Dheune - Fragnes (Or Wine Comes Before A Fall)

A Spring Has Sprung photo :)

We have now been travelling for a month, but as canal-time seems to operate on a slower level than real-time, it feels a lot longer since we pulled away from Auxerre.  Today is May Day and a national holiday in France, so everything is closed, including the canal – none of the locks are operating.  Thankfully the wonderful boulangerie at the port in Fragnes was open for a few hours this morning so we could treat ourselves to some croissants for breakfast instead of muesli – well, it is a holiday after all.  As with normally in the UK, poor weather has come with the holiday and I hope the boat behind got its lunchtime bar-b-que finished before the rain came on.  It was sunny ‘til they started cooking……..

It was raining when we left St-Berain-sur-Dheune last Wednesday and it continued for most of the day, but we only did a short hop to St Leger-sur-Dheune where we moored at the little port. 

A hotel boat turning on a wet day at St Leger-sur-Dheune

 A quick wander along the canal brought us to Le P’tit Kir restaurant which had been recommended and we hoped to have dinner that evening.  We hummed and hawed about going in to make a reservation or just leave it to chance, and having been plagued with unexpected restaurant closures since setting off, decided to go in and book.  “Ferme ce soir.” Was the reply – closed tonight……… We debated some more with my suggestion being that we just have a nice lunch, do the French thing, then have something light in the evening….. We did just that and what a good decision.  We had the Menu Midi, a delicious three course meal for 14 euros each.  As it was lunchtime, we just chose a small bottle (50cl) of wine as we didn’t want to sleep for the rest of the day, or have it turn into a session……..  Back on board, I went along to the Capitianerie to pay our mooring fees.  The mooring was a fairly rough, uneven piece of ground with bollards, power and a connection to the water mains under a manhole cover, so we thought it would be in line with the other ports and between 6-9 euros.  15 euros is what they wanted and when I presented a 20 euro note she said she didn’t have any change – they didn’t keep money in the office, but it was okay, I could come back later with the correct money.  As it rained the rest of the day, I didn’t head back until gone 6.30pm, expecting them to be there til 7pm, but they were gone, so I’d need to go back in the morning.  Meanwhile we had filled up with water which had given us the chance to try our new hose…..  The hose we had was a narrow-gauge one and at a few of the water points we’d used, the pressure was too much and kept blowing the hose out of the connectors.  It seemed a shame to waste good water pressure squeezing it through a narrow hose so we decided to invest in a fatter one.  The only problem was, it no longer fitted into the reel and the connection in the reel was factory made for the hose we bought with it so Mike had connected it with a jubilee clip holding it on.  It leaked badly but got the tank filled, but there was still work to be done on the connection and whilst there was the possibility it might not work, the old hose took up residence on the bedroom floor just in case.

By the time we’d faffed about with that Sally and Andy had arrived and asked us over for a drink after dinner, so we spent a pleasant evening with them and enjoyed seeing some of the puzzles they used to make.

In the morning I made my third attempt to pay at the port, this time taking a card to pay as we still didn’t have change.  There was no one in the office but I could hear someone cleaning the showerblock so went and asked to pay.  I had the receipt from the day before but the cleaner had no idea how to work the card machine and didn’t have change so suggested I went to a shop and got change.  Mike had cast off by this point and as he pulled in to pick me up, jumped off and gave the woman all the change we had; 5 euros 16 cents, and we left.

So far, no one has come after us for the rest………

It was another short journey to our next stop at Santenay where we’d stay a couple of nights and hopefully do some wine tasting.

Catherine Clark on the outskirts of St Leger

A nice still day.

Another hotel barge.

Moored at Santenay with The Puzzler

The view at Santenay - just lovely!

The mooring at Santenay is one of the prettiest and very quiet; surrounded by trees with beautiful views across the vines to the hills.  The sun was out and we decided to take the bikes down to the town for a look around.  It’s a really pretty little town and after a stop at the Tourist Information Office we visited Le Cave de Santenay to taste some local wine.  It was the usual case for us in Burgundy; we end up offending the locals by not liking the red but making up for it by gushing over the whites….. We bought a couple of bottles of the chardonnay from Guillaume and headed back to the boat where later on in the afternoon we were joined by The Puzzler.

The next day we had a nice lazy start and shortly after lunch Jake and Rachel on Catherine Clark arrived.  We chatted for a while at the little picnic spot on the mooring whilst Jake worked on a wooden model of an aeroplane then as we were all planning to visit the supermarket in the town, we headed off into the village together, only to find the supermarket was closed for another 45 minutes of the lunch hour.  We decided to have a walk further up into the town, and found ourselves outside the Chateau de Santenay and it didn’t take much debate to decide to go in for the tour and wine tasting there.  It didn’t start til 4pm so we wandered a bit more, found a bench to wait on and found out that the Catherine Clark is actually a Humber Keel built in 1924 and named after the builder’s mother – fantastic.

The pretty fountain in the square at Santenay

One of the caves at Santenay

Chateau de Santenay - see the traditional Burgundian coloured roof tiles.

My attempt at a panorama of vineyards at Santenay and Mike, Rachel and Jake

The tour of the Chateau was brilliant, probably one of the most interesting wine tours we’ve done – the cave is just great, and their different barrels for different domains was really quite complicated.  The guide spoke fluent English and was happy to answer all our questions and then pour us some wines to taste.   

 

These are only used for three weeks a year at harvest time, then cleaned out and left til the next year.

Same with these.  In the UK they'd be repurposed the rest of the year and seen to be a waste of money if left sitting.

Lots and lots of wine.....

Jollied up by this and with a couple of bottles in the bag we headed back to the butcher, boulangerie and supermarket for supplies.  Back at the boats we unloaded the shopping and were soon back outside chatting as it was a nice evening.  It was Mike who uttered the fateful words, “Shall we have a glass of wine….” And minutes later the six of us and the two dogs, Shannon and Trigger were sat at the picnic table with some wine and nibbles.

Darkness had fallen and we’d worked our way through two bottles of white and one and a half boxes (yes, BOXES!) of red when Mike (who doesn’t like dogs) decided to have a game of tig with Trigger.  Trigger is a Boston Terrier, one year old, who should really have the first ‘r’ taken out of his name as he is bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun and even Mike couldn’t resist him.  Thing is, Mike’s not quite as nimble as T(r)igger.  Behind the picnic table was a steepish bank leading down to a trench of nettles and a barbed-wire fence keeping some horses in the next field secure.  T(r)igger went down the bank (nimbly) followed by Mike (not so nimbly).  Mike couldn’t get back up so Jake went to help.  Thankfully he wasn’t hurt, until the next morning when his hands were tingling and we could see he was covered in nettle stings.  His cap was missing, but a quick foray at the scene of the incident recovered it.  We felt very rough having indulged in so much wine and no dinner – why, why, why……

It all started off so well....

Jake facilitates a rescue of the rubber-legged man.

The other two boats were up and away as we lay in bed nursing our sore heads and our hangovers were only compounded when I realised that the packet of bacon that I had thought was full only had four slices in it.  I was relieved to find two eggs still available, so egg rolls with a bacon garnish were served, after which we started to feel more human.  We set off in the sun, still with a cool breeze present planning on stopping at Chagny for the night.  However, when we got there the port was pretty soulless and it was such a nice day we didn’t really want to stop yet, so we carried on, managing to pick up a couple of logs on the way as we’ve more or less finished the wood we bought in Auxerre and have had to have the fire back on this week.

We decided to stop at a little quai near the town of Rully which was lovely.  Mike got himself settled in to listen to York City playing on the radio again – an important match which, along with other results from elsewhere, would make or break them in terms of relegation.  They drew, which would have been enough, but someone somewhere else won their match meaning that York go down.  He was devastated.  While he licked his wounds I walked the 2-3km into Rully and discovered a very pretty town with lots of wine caves – shame that my stomach turned at the sight of them on that particular day……..  I found a small corner shop which had no bacon, but had some chipolatas that would do for breakfast the next morning.  As the day had got hotter, I snuck some ice cream lollies in the basket as well.  Back at the boat, hearing how nice the town was, Mike decided he’d like a look, so back we went.  I was shattered by the time we got back!

Rully is really pretty but it was hard to get photos to show it as it is.

Cute street in Rully

A small river, The Thalie, runs through the town.

A modern sculpture showing the wine making heritage of the town.

Lovely rural view for the evening

In the morning a strong wind greeted us and as I cooked our sausages a hotel barge went past us ahead down the small flight of 8 locks that would take us to Fragnes for the evening.  We relaxed and finished our breakfast as you don’t want to get stuck behind a hotel barge as they go reaaaaaalllllllllyyyyyyyyy slowly…….. But seeing another coming into the lock above us to come down, we quickly cast off and got under way.  The first lock was set against us so I did as the lock keeper had suggested the previous day and pressed the ‘emergency’ button to contact the central control and let them know we were there and wanting to go down.  The lady blared through the speaker from the other end to ask where we were going and soon the lock was resetting for us.  It should have been a lovely cruise as the countryside in this area is just stunning, really beautiful but it was so windy and whenever we had to hover for a lock to set or someone coming up we were getting blown about like mad.  At one lock, the keeper arrived and we had a chat and he reminded us that we need to enter and exit the locks in the centre, particularly when leaving as the sensor telling the lock we’ve gone is in the middle above us.  Since Andy had enlightened us with this, we had been careful to do so, but I think in some of the deeper locks, it’s just too high above us and doesn’t register.  This means it thinks we’re still there and doesn’t let the next lock know we’re on our way – I think.  We’ve just not been able to work out how these automated locks work and it’s been hit or miss whether they’ve been ready for us or not when en route.

 

Looking back up the canal you can see the Hotel Barge behind us waiting to come down our previous lock.

You can just see how strong the wind was, blowing our little Yorkshire flag at the front.

Pretty little ruin on the way to Fragnes

At the last lock til our mooring we’d had enough of the wind, it was getting stronger and we’d caught up on the hotel boat in front of us, despite leaving an hour after it passed at the top of the locks.  As it exited the lock we waited for the lock to reset for us but it didn’t and there was nothing coming up, so we had to buzz control again to get them to sort it……..

Along the way we had noticed a huge amount of dead fish in the water and it transpires that they are killed by propellers.  The hotel boats cause a huge churn and another boat that was behind the hotel boat behind us said they could see the fish trying to get away from the back of the hotel boat and not sucked into the propeller.

So we finally arrived at Fragnes which is a tidy little port with all facilities, including an outdoor table tennis table which we have made use of today with Andy and Sally.  We’ve caught up with them, Jake and Rachel and Jane and Billy on Lazybones as it’s a good place to spend the May Day holiday, and yesterday enjoyed coffee and cake with them all at Lazybones’.  Thankfully a quiet evening was the want of everyone as I still wasn’t in the mood for wine and we wanted to watch the last episode of Line of Duty.  What a brilliant programme that is, just fantastic.  Today has been very British in terms of bank holiday weather; we’ve had sun, a bit of wind, rain, thunder and some cracking hailstones round about mid-day.  But we managed out for our table tennis game and managed to get the leaky hose fixed with the help of a tool from the French gent in the boat behind us.

The port at Fragnes

Tomorrow is a big day for us as we complete our navigation of the Canal du Centre and head on to the River Saone.  Better go and get the anchor connected up……..