Castelsarassin To Buzet-sur-Baise (Or….The Final (and long awaited) Entry for this year!)

Leaving The Tarn at Moissac to head back up on to the Canal

Well, that’s it for this season’s cruising and whereas previously we’ve lived on the boat over winter, this year we have moved into our house and after much deliberation, I’ve decided that it’s not really fitting to hijack Quaintrelle’s blog of her travels and tribulations with tales from terra firma.  So this entry will close Quaintrelle’s blog for this season and it will recommence as we do with our travels next year. 

But to continue from where we last left off (apologies for such a long delay), the morning of 21 September dawned bright, warm and sunny and we pushed off from Castelsarassin only to pull in after the first lock for Mike to make a quick visit to the large Brico store before Ilona caught up with us and we made our way together to Moissac. 

Fiona and Richard on Ilona following us over the Aqueduct across the River Tarn

We’d reckoned it would take us a couple of hours, but with everything going smoothly we got there a bit quicker much to the surprise of Jim the Capitaine who wasn’t expecting us for another hour.  We pulled into the port and filled up with diesel and then took our lunch break to wait for the lock-keepers to put us through the two locks that would take us down to the Tarn and our mooring.  We headed down to the mooring to find Billy and Jane on Lazybones and it was lovely to see them again.  We hung out there until it was time to move and Billy came with us for the ride.

Exiting the locks from the canal down on to the River and our mooring on the quay there.

Once settled into our spot next to Lazybones we enjoyed a few bottles of fizz with Billy and Jane and Fiona and Richard before all too soon it was time to head to the weekly Port Social in a local bar.  We were introduced to some of the other residents of Moissac Port and had a lovely evening, finished off with more wine on Lazybones – well, it had been ages since we saw them!!

Sunset on the Tarn

Needless to say, we weren’t feeling to sharp the next morning, eventually heading into the market after a dose of paracetomol to ease the heads.  We’re familiar with Moissac as we spent a few nights there in September 2016, and it’s where our beloved Kitty Cate(rham 7) died and had to be taken home on the truck of shame.

Thankfully Quaintrelle did not follow in Kitty Cate’s shoes………

After a lazy afternoon, we joined Fiona and Richard for drinks on Ilona in the evening before heading into town to enjoy a meal at Le Florentine, where I paced myself with a non-alcoholic aperitif!

The next morning provided a slightly cooler start to the day as we bid farewell to Lazybones who headed up the locks just before us, turning right at the top towards Toulouse.  We would be heading left towards our winter mooring at Buzet sur Baise.

Such a nice picture, I've put it in twice! :D

The Canal Lateral de la Garonne is quite delightful on this stretch with trees overhanging the canal and few boats on the move and we thoroughly enjoyed our cruise of 17km and 5 locks which took us to the town of Valence d’Agen.

Leaving Moissac through the port which is very popular for over-wintering.  We're just passing Kendra Erin here, Kevin and Michelle's boat, who we travelled with last year.

Waiting for the swing bridge at Moissac.

Much excitement as we pass into our home department; Lot et Garonne

With it being Sunday the town was shut, but it was bigger than we expected and had some interesting statues dotted around the town and a beautiful circular ‘Lavarie’, ancient wash-house.

The unusual round lavarie at Valence

Back at the boat we took advantage of the warm afternoon to polish the paintwork on the starboard side.

There were showers overnight and it was only when we went to cast off the next morning that we realised the gas locker had been left open and everything inside was wettish.  We left it open to dry out and headed off on our 4 hour cruise to Agen where we would meet up with Nikki and Gorette on Puddleduck.  Having only met a handful of people to socialise with over the summer, we were now making up for it, catching up with our friends from Roanne who had headed south at the start of the season.

Moored opposite the hire base in the large basin at Agen, after saying hello to Puddleduck we set off for the VW dealership, where we had ordered car mats and a boot mat for collection for our new car.  We figured they would be too awkward to carry on bikes and couldn’t find a bus so by foot off we went.  As usual, the route seemed much longer and further than predicted on google maps – and this was without getting lost! 

After an exhausting and very dull 8km round trip, carrying flapping boxes all the way back, we celebrated back at the boat that we won’t have to do that again once we pick up the car at Buzet in 48 hours.  The walk of shame along motorway verges is an element of boating life that we have not entirely enjoyed………….  The evening was spent with the girls on Puddleduck catching up on their exploits over the season and enjoying a most delicious curry for dinner.  It wasn’t a late night as we were so knackered after our walk, so much so that we decided to stay put at Agen the next day and take our time to catch up on some chores.  After a coffee with Nikki and Gorette, they headed off back the way we had just come and we got on with stripping back and oiling the worktops.  A rewarding job in that they look fantastic when they’re done, but one of the worst for the dust that it creates!

Looking across at our mooring at Agen.

Nikki and Gorette head off on Puddleduck

While we get on with sanding and oiling......

In the evening we walked to the edge of town and treated ourselves to a kebab for tea.

Another cool morning on 26^th September as we headed off but as with the previous few days, once the sun was up it got hotter and hotter and as we were enjoying our cruise decided that we would just push on to Buzet today and stay the night there, which would mean we could take our time in the morning loading up the car before locking up Quaintrelle and heading to the house for winter.  With the weather still being so hot, we hoped to get use of the pool for a few days, but an email from our friend Katie who has been looking after the pool for us put paid to that.  The hard cover was jammed – shut!!  She put in a call for a technician but there would be no swimming for a few days at least.

Crossing the aqueduct coming out of Agen.

The few boats on the move are now making their way to their winter moorings.

Another aqueduct.....

At the last lock of the day, we came face to face with a double red light and gates that were fully open on one side and nearly fully open on the other.  Clearly something was stuck and preventing the lock from operating correctly.  We went into the lock and tied off and I called VNF who said someone would be there in 15 minutes.  Meanwhile a hire boat had pulled up further back and sent someone to find out what was going on.  She asked in French, so I replied in French that the lock wasn’t working and I had called VNF and someone was coming in 15 minutes.  She cocked her head and looked at me quizzically, so I repeated, “Quelqu’un arrive, quinze minutes.”  She shook her head apologetically, “Quinze minutes…” I repeated, nope – she still didn’t get it.  “15 MINUTES. SOMEONE’S COMING IN 15 MINUTES. QUINZE!” Mike offered.  “Oh….” She said, “QUINZE……You are English.”  “Scottish.” I replied, “Ah, you don’t speak French.” She concluded.  I didn’t know what to say to that.  I don’t speak French well but the VNF people on the other end of the phone had understood me……… I felt rather insulted by her as she proceeded to say in fluent English that she didn’t really speak English, French was her second language, she was Swiss German.  “Oh piss off!”  I said, but only in my head.

Anyway, she asked if they could share the lock with us and we said yes (begrudgingly as it would have felt good to make them wait), so she toddled off to report to the rest of her crew and bring their boat in.  Thirty minutes later the eclusier arrived and I pointed out the partly open, stuck gate and said (in French!), I thought there might be something behind it.  Sure enough, after fishing with a large hook, a huge piece of vegetation embedded in a monstrous lump of clayish soil was pulled from behind the gate.  It was so large and heavy that the eclusier couldn’t lift it out so just had to steer it to the side to get it out of the way.  The gates were then closed behind us and we went on our way.

The Swiss then sat up our arse as we continued our voyage, so I pulled over and let them pass, only to pass them again a short while further on as they pulled in to lock down on to the river Baise.  We hope to do the Baise next season.  A few minutes later we passed through the new port at Buzet and a few minutes after that arrived at the old port, Quaintrelle’s home for winter.  We pulled in alongside DB Papillon and went to check in with Kevin and Sara, but it was Wednesday and the restaurant is closed on a Wednesday, so Sandra had a chat with us and said we’d be able to catch Kevin and Sara in the morning.  Finally reunited with our new car, the first thing we had to do was wash it as it was filthy from two weeks of sitting under a tree in the port.  We then started to load up as much of our belongings as we could before having dinner and watching tv.

We had a leisurely start the next morning before doing the rest of the packing, cleaning and some maintenance.  Then it was time for lunch at the restaurant where we caught up with Kevin and arranged making payment for our mooring, passed our contact details onto Sandra, just in case, and all too soon, we were closing up Quaintrelle and tarpauling her rear end (to stop rainwater getting in the engine bay) and getting in the car to head home for winter. 

Getting safely tucked alongside DB Papillon for winter.

It felt a bit surreal.  It was the end of the most amazing season of cruising.  We had clocked up an impressive 2743 kms, rode the Ardviller Inclined Plane up and down, swam in the Med and conquered the Mighty Rhone.  It’s probably the last full season of cruising we’ll do for a few years, now we have a new home to enjoy and new adventures to unfold on Terra Firma, but we couldn’t feel sad as we had had such a fantastic time and were so excited about what was to come!

So what happens to this blog now??  Well, as I said earlier, it doesn’t feel right to hijack Quaintrelle’s blog with housey stuff – this is a blog about Quaintrelle and her travels, our travels, so I will put this to bed now for winter and wish you a ‘Bonne Hiver’ and hope that you will join us on our travels next summer.

Night, night everyone xxx

Rip Off Taxis in Limoux and The Truck of Shame

Kitty Cate looking out over Aubrac - Happy Days

Like when we’re cruising, there’s always something quite nice about heading somewhere familiar so we were quite excited to leave our old cheese farm in the Aubrac and head southwards for Puylauren.  We’d visited Puylauren in February on a day’s jolly in a hire car from Carcassonne and liked it as a town, and it fitted the bill for a halfway stop between Aubrac and Limoux, south of Carcassonne which was where our next important event was happening.  Another hot day, we had a good drive southwards, although the satnav tried to take us there via farm tracks initially, and we arrived at Cap de Castel, our hotel at Puylaurens in time for an afternoon swim before dinner.  The following morning in blistering heat we set off for Limoux, deciding we would see if we had time to stop at Carcassonne en route.  We did and had a quick walk round the port and into Monoprix for some water and bite cream, though it wasn’t the same without Xenia being moored there with our friends Charles and Pam on board – the port was quite empty, though we saw a couple of boats going through the lock.

We reached our accommodation, La Moneze Basse, just before 1pm, a little earlier than the norm but we had pre-arranged this with Jeremey, our host, as we had booked Sunday lunch at our favourite wine domaine, Domaine Gayda, for 2pm.  As we both wanted to enjoy some of our favourite wine, Chemin de Moscou, with our meal, Jeremy had kindly booked us a taxi to get us there and we planned to arrange for a pick-up once there.  We quickly showered and changed and the taxi turned up at 1.20pm despite being booked for 1.30pm.  When we got into the taxi at 1.30pm on the dot (I know because I checked my phone for the time), there was already 8 euros on the clock!  We headed off, looking forward to our meal but getting increasingly concerned at the rate the meter was clocking up, 10 cents a second!!  Jeremy’s parting words had been, “The taxi should be around 20 euros, maybe a little more because it’s Sunday, so be careful and don’t let the driver rip you off – they can be bad for that in Limoux.”  By the time we reached Gayda, 11 minutes and 10km later, the meter read 40 euros 60!!!!!  I thought the guy would probably then press a button and say, okay 25 euros please but he didn’t.  He pointed at the meter.  I looked aghast and in French exclaimed, “No!!!  It’s too expensive.  Our host at the hotel told us 20 euro, perhaps a little more.”  “No,” he said.  “40 euros.”  “It’s too expensive!!”  I said again.  He gave a gallic shrug, “It’s Sunday.”  “It’s too EXPENSIVE!!”.  “It’s a surprise to you????”, “A big surprise.  We have no money to get back now.”  With a gallic shrug, he took 40 euros out of Mike’s hand, said goodbye and left.  We tried not to let it spoil our gorgeous meal and wine at Gayda, but it had left a bitter taste in our mouths and we were not looking forward to the two-hour walk home in the searing heat.

A favourite view from our table at Domaine Gayda

As the restaurant emptied, I clocked that one table leaving was English ex-pats, so we quickly paid and caught up with them on the stairs. “Sorry to be incredibly rude, but I don’t suppose you’re going back to Limoux?  It’s just we were charged 40 euros for a taxi to get here and don’t have enough to get back.”  They weren’t going to Limoux, going the opposite direction in fact, but said yes, of course they would give us a lift.  My faith in human nature restored, we climbed in the back of their car and had a good chat about living in France on the way.  They dropped us at Limoux and we walked 20 minutes back to the b&B where we told Jeremy what had happened.  He was horrified and embarrassed because he felt responsible as it was him that had booked the taxi.  Mike promptly penned an email off to the Mairie (Mayor) of Limoux and Jeremy suggested we go and report it to the Tourist Office in the morning as he intended to do so himself.  Jeremy wrote a very strongly-worded email to the Tourist Office and we called in the next day where we were told to put it in writing and they’d look into it.  We did, and whilst we never ever got a reply of any kind from the Mairie, the Tourist Office responded that these fares were regulated and the driver had actually charged a slightly lower rate than he should have!!!!  So, does the town of Limoux in France have the world’s most expensive taxi fares?  Or do you know different – I’m thinking of setting up an online survey……..

On leaving the Limoux Tourist Office, still with a sour taste in our mouths sadly, we set the satnav for Moissac, to the west of Limoux where we would meet up with Charles and Pam on Xenia for a couple of days.  We thought about going cross county, avoiding the toll roads but it doubled the journey time, so we settled in for a couple of hours motorway driving.  Cate behaved well until we stopped to get a ticket at one of the tolls.  As Mike approached, she conked out completely and wouldn’t start again.  The benefit of such a light-weight car is that I can push her myself, so as a queue built up behind us and she wasn’t for starting, I quickly pushed her out of the way and to the side.  As I pushed, Mike tried to jump-start her and it worked, so I leapt in and we were off again, albeit nervously wondering what would happen at the next toll.  She behaved fine until we reached Moissac, and as we went up and down the quai looking for Xenia, she conked out, but this time she wouldn’t jump-start and we pushed her into a parking space and went to see Pam and Charles.  We weren’t in the best frame of minds as the stress of not being able to find them initially, then the car conking out was enough to make us fall out – rare, I know, but it’s usually these things that do it!  However, after a lovely lunch, a couple of glasses of wine, we felt more relaxed and headed off to check into our accommodation, which looked over the canal.

Enjoying Xenai, Pam and Charles on the River Tarn

First try of our 8 euro keg of merlot - rather nice it was too!

The port on the canal at Moissac

Stormy clouds gathering over the Moulin de Moissac

In hindsight, we probably should have tried to get the car to a garage at this point as we were here for two nights which would be plenty time to have her looked at, started, but we wanted to forget our troubles, so rested up for a couple of hours then went back to Xenia for a BBQ in the evening.  The next day we were going cruising so we pitched up at Xenia around 11am and headed off upstream to find a mooring for a few hours to enjoy a swim and lunch.  It was lovely being onboard Xenia and made me realise how much Quaintrelle rolls!!

Captain Charles and Cabin Boy Mike

Mike dive-bombing

Me showing Mike how to do it better - and failing......

Three degrees of entering the water

It was a fantastic day and once we were back on land headed back to the B&B to freshen up before coming back to the quai as we’d all been invited on board Blue Gum for apperitifs at 6.30pm.  There we met Sally and Charles (who Mike discovered had lived at Knaresborough round about the same time as him!), and Lynn and Charlie from Acadia.  Charlie is very keen on cars and owns several MGs, so was happy to offer us a helping hand with Cate in the morning.  Mike was convinced it was the battery and would be fine once she was jump-started, but I wasn’t so sure.  Charlie had also spotted that a car shop up the road stocked our make of battery so we would check if they had our one in stock.  After lots of laughs and chats and apperitifs, we headed back to Xenia for some supper and a couple more glasses of wine, then poured ourselves home around 11pm – what a wonderful day we had had.

Next morning we convened around Cate where Charlie jump-started her first time.  Leaving her running, and now convinced it was a battery problem, I ran up to the car shop where they had a battery that looked identical to ours but was one digit out on the part number.  I showed the man our part number and with my limited French and his limited English, but lots of smiles, we learned it was the same battery, but intended for a tractor lawn mower hence the different digit!!  I ran back to Cate, jumped in and drove up to the shop.  Mike went in to the shop to look and I sat in the car, keeping her running.  As another pulled out of a space and we were blocking the garage entrance, I went to move her into the space.  As I put her in gear and went to move off, she conked out.  Dead.  Completely dead, not a cough or splutter.  We pushed her into the space and fitted the new battery just purchased.  By this time it was just gone 12 and the garage and shop had shut for lunch, but we should be off in a few minutes, just tighten those nuts………  “Okay, give her a try.” said Mike.  I did, and she started and I grinned with a “Yipppeeee….” which then faded to dismay as she sputtered out.  I tried again, same thing.  She would start, and then quickly dwindle off.  We couldn’t believe it.  The battery was fine, there was something else, we felt was fuel related as it seemed that fuel wasn’t getting through to keep her going.  We waited til everyone came back from lunch at 2pm and they were most surprised to see us still there, waiting in the rain (had I mentioned it was cold and wet?).  They checked the battery, checked fuses and that was the limit of their knowledge – it was just like a wee local Kwik Fit really, batteries and brakes.  The man at the shop was amazing.  He called another garage and a pick-up company and arranged for us to be taken there – in two or three hours.  So he invited us to wait in the shop where he made us a coffee and gave us an apple from the fridge!  Such kindness.  We waited.  And waited.  And waited.  And at 6pm he came and said they wouldn’t come now as the garage was closed.  The pick-up truck had had a busy day with lots of accidents on the wet roads – 30 we found out later!!  We had tried to get back into our lovely B&B but she was full, so the shop man pointed us to the hotel Le Chapon Fin – a two-star hotel in the town square.  It was clean and the man was very cheerful and the breakfast buffet very good but let’s just say the décor wouldn’t have been out of place in 1981.  It had good wifi though so I was able to watch Bake Off on the internet.  We were absolutely gutted as we should have been near the town of Pau, where our accommodation had wonderful views of the Pyrenees.  We were looking out at the covered market and public conveniences of Moissac – and that was on the good side……..  There was nothing we could do but get up sharp the next morning and head back to the shop and at least by morning the rain was gone and the sun was trying to put in an appearance.

“Une heure.”  Was the shop man’s time estimate for today but an hour later, still no truck.  He then reappeared and said he’d called someone else and they were on their way.  And so Cate ended her final trip with us on the Truck of Shame.

 

She's blushing furiously under that orange

At the specialist garage they tried all the electrical stuff they knew about to no avail.  Finally, in his “zero” English, the mechanic told us it was the engineering management unit.  We suggested something to do with the fuel but he poopoo-ed this.  They went off for lunch at 12 and we phoned our breakdown recovery which Mike had purchased for £34 when he insured the car.  Best £34 spent ever.  By the end of the afternoon they had arranged our repatriation to the UK via Easyjet Flights from Toulouse the next afternoon, and would arrange repatriation of Kitty Cate within the next couple of weeks.  The breakdown people spoke with the garage and made all the arrangements with them and we emptied the car and asked it they could get us a taxi into town.  The owner of the garage said he would be our taxi and took us back to Pam and Charles at the Quai.  I was starting to cry by now as I felt so bad leaving Kitty and so sad that our last time in her had ended in such a way.  Mike was counting the cost of what would now be our cancelled accommodation, losing deposits and the full cost of some we’d prepaid, but we thought we might be able to claim that back on our travel insurance.  By the time we reached Xenia I was sobbing loudly and unashamedly.  They were kind of gutted to see us as they hoped we’d be on our way, but we had a glass of wine and Pam insisted we stay for dinner as she had made a curry and there was enough to go around.  I ran up to our nice B&B to see if we could get in there but we couldn’t, she was full.  But such a lovely lady, when I told her our tale of woe, she invited me in, went online to the Tourist Office which posts available accommodation each night at 5pm and phoned one of the few places showing rooms.  But the rooms had been taken!  There was a festival on at the weekend and the town was filling up.  Even Chapon Fin was full!!!  I went back to relay this to Mike and Pam said we could stay with them, but there had been rooms at the Moulin de Moissac, the number one hotel in Moissac, just at the end of the Quai.  Thing is, they were 105 euros a night and our lovely B&B had just been 53 euros and we knew the hotel wouldn’t be as nice…….  Mike went across to the Moulin and got us a room in there and it was fine.  It was a bit dated in décor (hallway painted bloodred!!) but clean and the room was spacious, air-conditioned and had a bath.  Knowing we were sorted, we were able to relax a bit and enjoyed our extra time with Pam and Charles.

A taxi picked us up the next morning and took us to Toulouse airport, where we somehow managed to miss the Easyjet Baggage Handlers strike and our flight was not one of 70 cancelled elsewhere in France!  It was an hour late getting us into Gatwick where we were picked up by another taxi and taken the two-hour drive back to Quaintrelle at Roydon marina (told you, best £34 ever spent!).  It felt nice to be back on board, but weird staying in a marina and wrong that we were back too soon without Kitty Cate.  The thing is, we should have been taking her to the Caterham Dealer yesterday (Tuesday) to agree a price and hand her over, but instead Mike had to tell them she’d be dropped off by truck on the 4/5^th October and will need some work done.  When he told them the mechanic said it was the EMU, they said it was highly unlikely as they never go.  They’ve only ever had to replace them when one’s been bent up in a crash on the racing Caterhams!  When Mike told him what was happening, he immediately said it sounded like something fuel related.  We just KNOW that when she gets back, they’ll tweak something and she’ll start…………

Anyway, back at Roydon, we spent our extra days at home doing lots of laundry whilst on hook up, Mike did all the paperwork for the insurers for the car and for getting our lost holiday costs back (this took him two days!!) and I have been slowly catching up with the blog – imagine if I’d done the last three entries in one go!!!  On Tuesday we washed the boat, filled with water, pumped out and left the marina.  It felt good.  We travelled up two locks, cruised for 5 minutes then moored up on the towpath.  It felt nice to be out on the towpath again and it’s a pretty area of the River Stort, which is more like a canal.  We’re staying put tonight as well as we are awaiting the arrival of additional crew.  James is joining us for the next few days as he grew up in Bishop Stortford and fancied seeing his old stomping grounds from the waterway.  We’re looking forward to having someone to help with the locks……..

Coming up the lock that takes us out of the lake-based marina

Yay - on the move on new waterways for us!

Good timing on the next lock.  They may look like doubles but they're not, they're about one and a half width so you can't lock share and have to open both gates to get in and out :(

Our mooring at Roydon, five minutes from the marina!

Not only did my plants survive while we were away - look at my chillies!!!!