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

Marseillan to Colombieres (and a week’s holiday in our house!)

Heading out onto the Etang de Thau from Marseillan

We really were genuinely sad to leave Marseillan, but also a bit excited as not only were we now going onto the Canal du Midi, but in a couple of days we would leave Quaintrelle at Beziers and hire a car to go and stay at the house for a week.  Having heard of all the holiday-makers enjoying our pool, we decided that we wanted a shot of it ourselves and we’d invited Simon, an architect friend, to come over and give his thoughts on what changes we wanted to make.  Peter and Jane would also join us for a few days so we’d need to stock up on wine……..

We were only back on the Etang du Thau for 20 minutes or so before we took the cutting on to the Canal du Midi.

Coming off the Etang and onto the canal.

Swampy boats ahoh!!

Here we are!

The first part of the Canal du Midi really isn’t that attractive.  There are a lot of what we call swampy boats there; neglected almost beyond recognition and often piled high with the rubbish that people seem to think you require to exist.  It makes for a rather shabby welcome experience, which is a shame.  We arrived at the round lock at Agde just before lunch.  It’s a most unusual lock as it is round and has three sets of gates; two for going up and down on the midi and a third that takes you down into Agde and on to the Med.  We would not be taking that third gate……  There was a boat waiting when we arrived so we pulled in and Mike went up for a look and came back to report that there were three hire boats coming down and the last one in was spinning around and having trouble mooring up.  They must have got lines on however, and 15 minutes or so later the first two boats exited and the third began to spin around the lock again……  It took a further 20 minutes for this boat to get out of the lock.  He kept oversteering, overcorrecting and was literally going around in circles for 20 minutes – while we all waited.  By the time he passed us, head down, not making eye-contact with anyone, the lock closed its gates on us for lunch!

You spin me right round baby right round, like a record baby, right round, round round....... :D The boat in the left hand corner has its nose towards a gate to the canal.  The gate in the top left is the one to Agde and the Med.  The gate to the right is the other one to the canal du midi.  The spinning boat has come in from the Midi gate to the right and wants to go out of the one in bottom left-hand corner......

We made use of the time by washing Quaintrelle.  Having been in salt water for the last couple of weeks, we were keen to get it washed off before it started to cause rust so while everyone else enjoyed a break in the midday sun, we broke sweat washing her down.

The delay meant we were a bit later mooring up above the lock at Portiragnes, after a failed attempt to moor below the lock where the wall had eroded and crumbled in and we found ourselves on a tilt too far out from the bank to get on and off!  We quickly assembled the bikes and packed our swimming stuff and set off on what turned out to be a 12km round trip for one last exposure on the beach. 

Friday 24^th was slightly cooler than it had been, at a balmy 30 degrees and we set off for Beziers just after 9am.  The characteristic plane trees of the Midi are missing in huge chunks as many have been destroyed by a pest brought over in the wood of ammunition boxes from the US in WWII.  When you get a stretch of them, they are really beautiful and when you get a bald patch it’s very sad.  However, there is a massive replanting programme taking place and there were long stretches where there were young saplings biding their time until they will provide shade along the cut like their predecessors.

You can clearly see that the English canals were based on the Canal du Midi - same sort of bridge holes - feels like home!

The first part of the Midi is also still relatively close to the Med so there are more Blackpool-esque resorts along the way.

But this is what we want to see - the beautiful majestic plane trees of the Midi.

We reached the port at Bezier just after 12 to find a space reserved for us alongside Hyersynth Bookay, who is for sale at a whopping 300,000 euros if anyone is interested…….  We settled our bill of 152 euros for 9 nights with no water or electric after lunch and headed up into town for an explore.  It’s a really pretty town.

One of the main avenues in Bezier had had a flower fair and we just caught the last of the stalls.

Bezier, like Lyon, is also trialling a driverless vehicle up and down the avenue.  We took it both ways, but this one had a lady to push the button to set it off, so it still has some way to go.

I loved this statue/fountain in the park in the city.

Back at the boat, we packed including some bits and pieces that we were taking back to the house to store in the garage until we go back for good and started to clear the fridge ready to empty in the morning before we left.

It was a bit of a fiasco picking up the car the next day as we’d booked it from 10.30am, but were now picking up Simon at Bergerac airport on our way back so wanted to leave earlier.  Mike had tried to change it the night before but couldn’t get into the online account he’d used to book it, but we figured it would be okay to collect an hour or so earlier.  It turns out it wasn’t.  Apparently there have been problems with people being caught speeding, but then saying they didn’t have the car at the time of the offence and produced the paperwork to prove their pick-up time was later than the time the offence occurred………  She allowed us to do all the paperwork so when we returned at 10.30am, we just had to check the car and drive off, and while I did that with her Mike was on the phone……  The thing is, you book online through a third party, you get a good price, often more than half the price of going direct to Hertz, Enterprise or whoever.   But you then can’t make changes because the person you booked it through won’t call the actual hire company to change the booking.  Mike did reach a point after about 20 minutes and the first customer service agent had hung up on him, where they said they’d change it for a fee……  You can imagine how well that went down.

I returned to collect the car at 10.15am and was left waiting until 10.20am and then allowed to drive away at 10.23am, but only after she’d scribbled out 10.30am on the paperwork and written 10.20……

The car was loaded up and we were off!  Our high spirits didn’t last long though as we hit traffic and realised it was the last Saturday in August and all of France were heading back home from their holiday in the south.  It took an hour and a half to do a stretch that should have taken 40 minutes!

5 hours later and we picked a very relaxed Simon up from Bergerac, having made use of his time there and had a lovely lunch ‘gastronomique’ in town. Reaching the house we unloaded the car and then despite the overcast sky and temperature of 18 degrees, got into our swimming stuff and jumped in the pool.  It wasn’t that warm, but it’s OUR POOL and we loved it!

The next day the sun was up and the clouds had vanished so the pool would definitely be in use, but first we had a ‘meeting’ with Simon to talk about the house.  Simon had been having a good wander around and now wanted to see if his ideas matched up with ours.  All exciting stuff!!  Simon and Mike carried on measuring up and discussing options while I drove to Bergerac to collect Peter and Jane.  By the time we got back to the house, Mike had most of the inflatables blown up and plenty of champagne and wine chilling in the fridge and he and Simon were about to start relaxing.  What else was there to do but join them.

Me and Pete enjoying our pool with a view.

There were lots of butterflies in the garden and Mike caught a snap of this Scarce Swallowtail - very beautiful.

Enjoying some of our Philippe Benard pink fizz!

In the summer months lots of the towns hold weekly night markets with food and drink stalls and live music.  We attended the one in Duras on the Thursday night - it was heaving!

Meanwhile peace and tranquility remain back at La Ganne.

We barbequed on our gas barbeque that evening and sat out late into the night – probably to the annoyance of our neighbours……  On Monday morning Simon had one last look around the house, a last chat with us and he and I were then on our way to Bergerac airport for his afternoon flight.

The rest of the week kind of followed a similar pattern, breakfast, pool, lunch, walk, pool, drink, sleep……..  Although on Wednesday, or was it Tuesday, we drove to Eymet and had a lovely lunch at Andine, the peruvian restaurant there.  On Thursday we took Peter and Jane to the airport and then Mike and I met with our financial advisor to sort out what we need to do taxwise in both the UK and France and then on our way home we stopped in at a VW garage to test-drive a couple of cars; T-Roc and Tiguan.  With the time for moving into the house growing nearer we needed to get the wheels in motion for buying a car and we had a shortlist of ones we fancied trying out.  We were greeted in the VW showroom by an English car salesman who was really helpful and let us try the cars, but on further investigation it turned out that he didn’t have anything suitable in stock for us and the new ones (which were too expensive anyway) wouldn’t come until next April now!

The next day we bit the bullet and drove to Bordeaux, yet again in awful traffic on the peripheral ringroad making the journey half an hour longer than it should have been.  Our target today was the Audi dealer to try the Q2 and Q3.  We loved both these cars but the Q3 was really out of our budget, even for an ex-demo, but there was a Q2 that would suit but it was at another dealer.  There was a second hand Q3 across the forecourt but we just weren’t sure……..  The next day the chap called to say the Q2 we’d fancied had been sold so we’d need to think again…….

Saturday we packed up and headed back to Bezier with a much smoother journey this time and very pleased to get back and see that Quaintrelle’s batteries were sitting at 100% - from the solar!  It made us realise just how much power our fridge uses!  We had a kebab later in the evening and Mike started looking online for a car through a site called Aramis Autos which our friend Kevin, from DB Kendra Erin, had suggested. This would enable us to get a good car at a better price and quicker than through a dealer and we really needed a car in the next 3-4 weeks.  We got quotes through and had a good look, translating as much as possible as it was all in French.  It looked good.  The Q2 and Q3 were still too expensive, so we decided on the Tiguan and so began what would be a week of total car stress trying to get insurance, bank transfers etc sorted out………

Sunday 2^nd dawned bright and sunny again and we were keen to get moving again so headed off after breakfast up the first lock out of Bezier.

There is a fantastic view of the cathedral at Beziers as you leave via the aqueduct.

The inclined plane taken out of use in 1968.

In a remarkable U-turn on modernisation of the canal, there was an inclined plane that was used instead of the flight of 7 locks up until 1968.  Proving problematic, the plane was closed and the locks reopened and it’s the locks that are used today.  It was quite a hair-raising climb and we have never seen staircase locks operated in this way.  You pull into the chamber whilst the upper gates are still open and water is let through from the chamber above.  So in chamber 1, the water is let in from chamber 3 and fills both chamber 2 and 1 – the gates between 2 and 1 being open.  You move into chamber 2 and the gates are closed behind you and you’re taken up to chamber 3 and so on.  This method meant that rolling waves of water passed through the chamber above you before reaching the chamber you were in which meant it was a torrent by the time it reached you.  We didn’t exactly enjoy it and found the whole experience quite traumatic.

One of the calmer locks..............

Lovely view back down the flight though.

At the top we pulled in for a break and went for a look at the flight and the visitor centre there.  It’s really pretty and very interesting and we paid 3 euros to see an excellent 3d film of how the Canal du Midi was made, all in English for us!

Enjoying the 3d film experience...... (my best acting - it hasn't started yet - I'm good..eh?)

The film was so well done - well worth the 3 euros!

We then continued along to our mooring for the night at Colombieres, a pretty little village and got a space before the rest of the bumper boats arrived – it was fun watching them trying to get through the tiny bridge hole.  Sadly despite now being in September there are still a lot of hire boats around and the worst thing about them is the speed.  Mike spent most of the rest of Sunday shouting out the window at them to slow down as their wash lapped up over the sides of the canal and we were buffeted about – they have no idea………  After a wander through the town we headed off up the towpath to the Oppidium, discovered when the marshes were drained, and watched a couple of boats go through the tunnel de Malpas, then it was back to the boat for a barbeque and bed.

The Opidium - it must look even more impressive from the air.

A tranquil mooring at Colombieres - once the bumper boats have gone to bed...... ;)

Lyon to Aigues Mortes (or, WE’RE ON THE RHONE……..and off again – phew!)

Up before the sun to beat the wind!

Right, before you start, get a cuppa/glass of wine/soft drink and a comfy seat as this is a long one…. I felt it would be unfair to leave you at the end of an entry wondering if we’d got safely off the Rhone so have decided on doing our complete navigation of the Rhone in one post.  Should you feel the need, feel free to just look at the pictures, I won’t take offence…… I won’t know…… which is good, because if I did, I might take offence…….

Our first day on the Rhone was to be a short one, by design and we would just head to Vienne, a few hours south of Lyon, where we’d spend the night along with Derrineel before continuing south the next day whilst Derrineel would come back up to Lyon.  The usual tasks of dumping rubbish, filling with water were completed and as we saw Trevor and Alison pushing off, we did the same and set off for our last kilometre of the Saone to the Confluence with the Rhone.

Being followed out of Lyon by Derrineel

At the Confluence

And we're on the Rhone and within minutes are passing a huge commercial.....

As we approached the first lock, Pierre Benite, we encountered our first issue – a non-responsive lock.  I called on VHF 19 three times to no avail, so rang the number in the book from our French mobile.  After being on hold a few minutes, it was answered and I was told 10 minutes and the lock would be ready.  No idea why they didn’t answer the radio, but it was very annoying.  You try to do everything the way they ask you to and they can’t be arsed responding!  Anyway, within 5 minutes a small boat had exited the lock having come up and we had a green light to go in.  Issue 2: the floating bollards were spaced 30m apart which meant we could only get one line on.  We had been expecting this and had experienced it on some of the Saone locks, so we put the stern line on and kept the engine running to use the bow thruster to keep the nose in if needbe.  Our slight worry that they might insist on two lines was unfounded and with Derrineel tucked in behind us we, we were welcomed with a recorded message over the loud speaker in French, English and German to the Pierre Benite lock and we were soon dropping down.

Leaving the lock (to another recorded message wishing us a good day and safe travels in a rather Blade Runner-esque way) we felt as if we had left one country and locked through to another.  It smelt of the south and with a chorus of chicadas accompanying us, it sounded like the south.  The cutting taking us away from the lock has a flow on it and we found ourselves doing about 12 kms an hour, compared to our usual 8 on a river with no flow.  It was a narrow cutting so of course, this was where we passed two commercials and a river cruiser hotel boat all in the space of an hour or so……….

Once the river opened out again our pace settled and we began to enjoy it, the big river, the scenery, the endless blue sky and hot sun.  At the small town of Givors, Trevor radioed that the dogs needed off the boat for a comfort break so they were going to pull in, which would give them another chance to see how Derrineel coped manoeuvring in the river.  We decided it would be nice to have a little break as well so aimed for the small port only to find on getting closer it was really, really small and the pontoons tiny so there’d be no way we’d fit.  So we turned around and headed back upstream to a 25m pontoon where we could tie-on for a short while.  Quaintrelle pushed upstream with no problem at all and as we got nearer the pontoon I reminded Mike that on a river you should always moor pointing upstream.  Against his better judgement, Mike said we’d be fine pointing downstream, so began to turn the boat and as we travelled sideways down the river I watched the pontoon pass us by………… We spent about 20 minutes fannying around trying to go backwards to the pontoon and on finally getting hooked on realised there was quite a strong flow around the pontoon and that our hopes for a quick, cooling dip in the river were dashed.  The gate at the top of the pontoon was locked so Mike climbed over and headed down towards the port to see how Trevor and Alison had faired.  Not much better it turned out.  Having got in and on a pontoon, they discovered that the big high gate was locked, as it was a private port and there was no way to get out to let the dogs do what they needed to do, so they were coming out and up towards us on the pontoon.  We pulled off thinking they were ready to go, but a quick radio call got the message to us.  We told them the gate was locked here to but they’d be able to lift the dogs over, so we decided to continue on downstream and leave them to the pontoon.

This fannying around probably added an extra hour on to our day, but we saw it as a chance to play around with Quaintrelle in the river and see how she coped with the flow etc.

Late afternoon and our mooring came into site – the pretty town of Vienne with a lovely long empty wooden quay, where we pulled in, tied off and watched for Derrineel arriving.  No sooner were they tied on behind us than a small boat passed, quite slowly and with a smallish wake, at which point both boats began bouncing, bucking, rolling, banging like none of us had ever seen our boats do before.  Quaintrelle’s rear dipped down so low at one point that her white tunnel stripe disappeared completely and I actually thought that was it.  Twenty minutes later, the boats were still bucking as the surge continued to bounce of the walled sides of the river and we concluded that it wasn’t safe for us to stay there.  An inspection of a nearby floating pontoon which was bucking and bouncing as much as the boats was written off and we all climbed aboard and headed back upstream to a mooring off the river a kilometre back the way we’d come.

Despite being next to a main road crossing the river and a railway line, this little spot was bliss – a little cutting off the main river meaning no matter what passed on the river we were protected.  There was some grass with trees for us to lounge under and a little bridge across to an island where there was a wee bar and lots of picnic tables – it was a local beauty spot.  We settled in, couldn’t swim unfortunately as there were signs forbidding it due to pollution, and enjoyed a barbecue together in the evening.  All in all, we were all feeling pretty good about the Rhone, although the Vienne mooring issue did mean Mike had to get the plans out and rethink our moorings to be ones off the river.

The main road flies over the river here but despite this it was a great little mooring, really peaceful.

We were off around 9am the next day and turned to head south leaving Alison and Trevor to head back up north to Lyon.  

Saying goodbye to Trevor and Alison - hope we see you down south sometime!!

Passing through Vienne again......all calm for the moment!

CNR manage the Rhone, like VNF do the canals and I'm guessing from the size of these premises this may be their head office - not too shabby a location!

Our second lock on the Rhone - not that we were counting them down or anything.......

We expected to see a variety of vessels on the Rhone, but the little group of hovercraft that passed were a real surprise - Kathy, this could've been Peter!!!!!

Stunning scenery on the Rhone, quite different to what we've seen in the last 18 months.

The big commercials keep their distance so we didn't get thrown about too much by them.  It was the speedboats that were the worst.

We caught him up at the next lock!

Six hours later we had covered 49kms, passed down 2 locks and were ready to stop, but as we approached St Vallier saw the 25m pontoon was occupied.  We continued on but kept looking back as I’d seen someone returning to the boat by bike and wondered if, just if, they might then be leaving.  Sure enough, as we watched, the cruiser pulled out and came after us, so we quickly turned around and headed back 1km to the pontoon.  Just as we were reaching it, another little day boat appeared from the opposite direction and pulled onto it!  However, as we approached I asked if he could move up at all, and he replied in perfect English that he could if I would give him a hand.  It was a bit close for comfort, but he seemed okay for Quaintrelle’s nose to be within inches of his outboard, so there we stayed.  He was waiting for some friends, then going for a cruise, then dropping them off here again later, then taking the boat back upstream to a slipway where his car was parked.  His friends never turned up though and three hours later he went on his way alone………  We had a quick look round St Vallier which was a bit rundown and appeared moreso because it was Sunday and everything was shut, but regardless of that, it’s a good overnight stop but there is nothing worth stopping for, if you see what I mean.  Although the river is huge here and had natural banks and the shipping channel was on the other side of the river from our pontoon, we still got rocked around a fair bit when boats passed and decided that if we wanted a good night’s sleep we’d need to moor overnight in ports or cuttings off the river.

 

The river is huge at St Vallier - can you see us?  We're moored up on the right....

And looking downstream from the other side of the bridge at St Vallier.

Feeling very, very small and vulnerable, we set off the next morning with the port of Glun our target, but when we got there, we were having such a smooth journey and had both decided that the sooner we were down the Rhone, the better (not least because less favourable weather conditions were forecast for the end of the week) so decided to continue on to Valence.  We pulled in onto the fuel pontoon and at 1.57 a litre decided to top up our tanks while we waited for the Capitainerie to open.  A quick wander round the marina led us to understand that the pontoons were for boats less than 14 metres and anything larger could use the end of the pontoon.  There was only one end left so we quickly claimed our spot and headed up to the Capitainerie to part with our 26 euros for the night.  For the first time since being in France, she asked to see our Small Ships Register certificate, and this seemed to be the norm on the Rhone.

The marina is a fair distance from the town, so we had a wander round the marina before chilling out with our books on the front deck.  It was a very peaceful mooring with great scenery and we spent a very pleasant night there.

 

Passing the King's Table (Yes, that little bit of rock with the channel marker on it.....apparently it was once big enough for King Louis IX to stop and have dinner on it as, for political reasons, he did not want to go ashore on either bank!

Passing the 100km mark - only 180 to go.......

Waiting for the lock

The river is too strong to swim so these kids' alternative was to get dad to chuck buckets of water over them :)

In fact it was so peaceful, I wanted to stay, forever, but we had to head back out on to the river and we did so at just gone 9am on Monday morning, 6^th August.

On this stretch we were accompanied by the Alps in the distance - who'd have thought we'd ever be looking at the Alps from Quaintrelle!

Strange viewing portal as we leave the lock.

Lots of little medieval forts are dotted around the countryside.

And there are power stations galore harnessing the energy of the river.

Arriving at the port of Cruas there was a complicated array of channel markers instructing us to go past the port, then turn and come in upstream.  As we fought against the current to get in and not be pushed back onto the channel markers, we realised why………. It was a tense few minutes…….and the Capitaine had said nothing about it when we’d rang in the morning.  The port only takes boats up to 15 metres, but he said he could accommodate us, but you wouldn’t want to go in there if you were any more.  The capitaine and his wife were charming and as in Valence took the details from our SSR Certificate which they wanted to see.  Having run out of fizzy water, we headed up into town only to find the supermarket was closed – of course, it was Monday.  However, the butchers was open and we got some cracking lamb and chicken skewers for the barbecue and the Tabac provided us with four bottles of fizzy water and two of coke.  We don’t normally drink coke at all, in fact, really quite dislike it, except when it’s really, really hot and with temperatures consistently in the mid-30s everyday, the odd glass was hitting the spot!

We enjoyed another quiet evening in a lovely little port until about 8pm when we heard a boat motoring hard and looking out towards the entrance saw Shippy MacShipface approaching the entrance.  She was hammering away, but was still being swept sideways and towards the channel markers….the froth at the front of the boat drawing our eyes to the fast-flowing current she was fighting against. “It wasn’t like that when we arrived…was it?”  “No.  It definitely wasn’t.  It’s got worse…”.  Shippy made it in safely and we had a chat with the young german couple who were on their first trip on her on a six-month voyage – baptism of fire, or what………..  But despite the peace of the port, we didn’t sleep much that night, terrified that the flow would be as strong in the morning when we tried to leave which would mean exiting the narrow entrance to the port and turning hard left into the current and if we didn’t turn quick enough or with enough power we’d be dragged onto the markers………

We decided to leave at 6.30am as we figured the extra flow may have been brought on by the hydroelectric power station nearby, as at 8pm everyone would be home from work and tvs and cookers all over the region would be on.   At 6.30am they should all still be in bed…… Also, there was no wind forecast for that time and it was due to come on later, so we wanted to cover as much ground before the wind came and made life difficult for us.  In reality it was 6.45am when we left, me taking a last photograph of Quaintrelle and both of us with life jackets on in case we hit a marker and got bumped overboard.  All was calm and we pushed off and headed out into the river…………. And there was barely any flow at all…………

Potentially this could have been the last photo taken of Quaintrelle - thank god it isn't!!!

The very cute Shippy MacShipface after her ordeal

Leaving Cruas behind and not another soul in sight.

We don’t do early starts but I can see why people do – it was glorious cruising at that time of day with barely a ripple and we didn’t see our first boat until two hours later when we reached our first lock of the day.

 

Mike was getting a bit bored so decided to wash the roof as we went along, which I permitted as long as he wore a bouyancy aid - a soapy boat is not a safe boat!!

Our second lock of the day was the deepest in France and one of the deepest in Europe, Bollene, at 22m deep and we were excited about passing through.  Despite its size, it was so smooth, you’d have hardly known you were moving apart from the huge walls swallowing you up.  When we left, again, the channel had quite a flow on it, not only that, but there was a huge amount of debris in the water, huge tree trunks, shoes, bushes – it was like a very unpleasant obstacle course.

Waiting at Bollene

Down, down, down.........

Massive!

By the afternoon, we had winds of 25km/h and the going was not enjoyable.  As we came past St Etienne the river was huge and froth-topped waves were breaking across our nose-fender and the flotsam seemingly endless.  As I felt myself getting tense I asked myself, ‘Is it as bad as crossing the Wash in 2016?’ and the answer was no.  I am so glad we did that as it gave me a comparison and I knew Quaintrelle could do this if she’d done the Wash in the conditions she did.

200 down - 80 to go!!!  We now felt the end was in reach.....almost......

An open, windy stretch as we pass St Etienne

This was some of the smaller flotsam......

 

The pretty scenery had been replaced with industrial power stations and didn't enhance the windy journey much.

We waited at the lock to let this in first and then tucked in behind it.  It was fairly small as far as commercial barges go.

Through our last lock of the day, we turned right and travelled 4kms upstream, up an embranchement to the little port of L’Ardoise, but it felt like it was 100 miles away.  We were desperate to stop for the night and felt quite exhausted after a hard day and our early start.  The port looked a bit run down through the binoculars, but as we approached someone ran out onto a pontoon and waved us in, and thus we were welcomed by a delightful capitaine.  He spoke really good English and helped us moor up before leaving us to cool off “Yes, it’s safe to swim here.”  Wooohoooooo!!!!! And said to come to the office at 5pm to pay.  The little restaurant on the port is meant to be good, so we thought we’d eat there, but sadly the chef (and the usual Capitain) had cracked ribs, so the temporary capitaine offered to do us a plate of L’Ardoise goodies and a drink for 9 euros.  So we had that sitting on the deck of the little capitainerie/restaurant enjoying a cool breeze as the sun went down and spent a very restful night in another great little port.

L'Ardoise - a very warm welcome and lovely peaceful little port.

Despite sleeping well, we were still knackered when we reluctantly left the next morning, but we had to move.  We just wanted to be off the Rhone desperately now.  It was almost as if the longer we spent on her safely, the higher the likelihood of something happening……..

Wednesday 8^th was an exciting day though, as we’d be reaching familiar grounds.  Not familiar to Quaintrelle, but we had visited Avignon by car in early spring 2016 and had driven to one of the locks on the Rhone for a look.  Today, we’d be passing through that lock and heading into Avignon.  We recalled how horrified we’d been with the size of it then and were bemused to note that at 9.5metres, it’s one of the smaller ones!

Some more amazing scenery accompanied us on this section, once we'd passed the sand quarry above.

Avignon lock where we had to wait to let the commercial boat go first, but were then allowed in.  Unfortunately it was a bit windy and we had a bit of trouble getting our front line on - you'd have thought it took us an hour the way the commercial skipper had his head in his hands and was waving his arms around in frustration.  The reality was Mike got it on on his second throw, once I'd fannied around a bit trying to get the boat lined up and failing, and it was probably about 7 or 8 minutes after we entered to being tied on.

At the Avignon ecluse I could see the gold statue on top of the Palais du Papes in Avignon and felt a surge of excitement – we’d done it!  We were nearly there!  We were SOUTH!

However, I was brought back to reality sharply when we left the lock and were travelling at a comfortable 10km/h on 1400 revs until we turned up the side branch into Avignon and our speed dropped to 6km/h without touching the throttle………  It was quite a grind up past the (Sur le…) Pont d’Avignon but we reached the port and got moored up easily. 

Avignon - here we come!  (Just a bit slower than normal......)

Altogether now...... - Sur le Pont D'Avignon

Our first port of call was a nearby Carrefour where we stocked up on fizzy water, milk and were ecstatic to find they had HP sauce for our bacon butties – we’ve been out of it for some weeks now!  In the evening we had a barbecue on the front deck and having checked the weather and flows realised we’d be here at least a couple of nights as storms were forcast for the next day, Friday 10^th.  And boy, did they come…

I have never seen rain like it and it was relentless, and yet, I don’t think we had it as bad as some other areas nearby.  We had one casualty, the Heritage Stove.  The rain was such that the next morning when I put it on for our morning cuppa, it was making a strange glugging sound, and then later when I put it on for our coffee, I could see smoke coming out of the chimney reflected in the water…….  After speaking with Heritage we spent the rest of the day fucking about (as Mike so succinctly put it) with the stove.  We needed to take it apart and clean and dry it, but one of the hotplate bolts disintegrated as we tried to undo it so we had to take a bus out of town to a shop that didn’t have extractor kits but sent us to another, 3.5km walk, which we didn’t reach cos we went into another who didn’t have one, but sent us back 400metres from where we’d come to a shop that DID have one – yipppeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Back at the boat, we stripped the stove down, hoovered up what soot we could find (not a lot) and then stuck a brush wrapped in kitchen roll down the air inlet vent.  It made a gulping sound and came out wet.  Rain had got in the air inlet vent (which the chap at Heritage had said was not possible that morning!).  We ‘mopped’ out as much as we could but after another call to Heritage were told we must not under any circumstance use the stove without the hotplates screwed back on (both screws were broken and they’d have to send us more) and the emissions had been checked by a qualified engineer…….

Okay, first world problem, but this meant no cooker, so no kettle, no tea or coffee.  We could barbecue or eat out in the evening, but no hot water either.  Now, as it is, we’ve had the hot water setting switched off for the last month because it’s been so hot that when we’ve cruised and heated water that way, even if we’ve not cruised a day, the water had still been hot the next night!  (Also, it’s been so hot, we’ve been having cool showers, so not using up the hot water.)  But now we would be heading into cooler September and October.

Not in the best frame of minds I headed up to the Carrefour to do a last minute shop before leaving the next morning and was surprised to find they not only had an electric kettle for sale, but a single electric hotplate as well!  I bought the kettle and on returning to the boat consulted with the first mate on the hotplate – “Buy it.” Was the response, so I went back and I did.  What I wasn’t quick witted enough to do though was also buy some bacon, which I hadn’t because we had nothing to cook it on.  So for the first time in ages, we had HP Sauce for our butties but no bacon!!!

By the time we had had a few glasses of wine (well it was Friday) things didn’t seem so bad and as we knew what the problem was with the cooker, we didn’t see why once it was dried out it shouldn’t work any differently than it did before it got wet.  We’d just need to get by until we could get the screws from Heritage, which we could get sent to the house which we are going to visit in a couple of weeks time.

So still knackered, and stressed about the cooker rather than the river, we went to bed, with the river levels decreasing we’d be able to set off in the morning – our last stretch of the Rhone.

If you compare these leaving Avignon pics to the arrivals you can see how the colour of the water had changed with the storms.

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This day, Saturday 11^th, was to be the longest day we have ever done (89km, 2 locks, 11 hours) and we wouldn’t be speaking by the end of it.

 

Beautiful blue skies

........but not such a blue river.  The storm had churned and it was a muddy brown all the way.

Leaving our last lock on the Rhone - Lock 13 Beaucaire

Mike spotted that they've named this cruiser after my mum :)

We knew it must be windy on this section or why else the wind turbines.....

Two hours into the journey it still felt as if we were going to be on the Rhone for ever, but two hours after that, the junction of the Petit Rhone came into sight and we could see Arles in the distance on the main river.  The feeling of relief and jubilation was incredible!!  We’d done it! We’d made it!  We were off the Rhone and would never need to go back on it ever!!!  It wasn’t that anything disastrous had happened and it really is a beautiful river with quite spectacular scenery, but it would be wrong to say we had enjoyed it.  We had endured it because we had to do it to get to the Canal du Midi, rather than choosing to do it as a cruising option.  But now we were off, and how small and gentle the Petit Rhone was by comparison.

Taking a right at the junction on to the Petit Rhone.....

......and Breeeeaaaaaatttthhhhhheeeeee.......aaahhhhhhhhhh.......

Another couple of short hours went by in a flash, the feeling of joy and relief sustaining us and we were soon coming through the Saint Gilles lock and back on the canal system.  Canal!!!! Canal!!!!! Canal!!!!  Never have I loved canal so much even though it was just a big, long straight, lined with rusted cars pulled out at various points…..

Another right takes us to the Saint Gilles lock and onto the Canal du Rhone a Sete!

I love you canal - even with your rusty old cars :)

We even caught our first sightings of the beautiful wild horses of the Camargue - superb!

A more Quaintrelle-sized bridge methinks!

I think I caught this one having a wee - he has a strange expression on his face......

It was probably the feelings of elation that led us to make a fatal mistake…..  Our mooring option was to turn off the canal after the Saint Gilles lock and head up the old route of the Canal Rhone a Sete to a mooring there, but rather than do that, our sheer happiness made us both decide to continue.  When we reached the port at Gallician, we tried to pull into the side just before the port, but the wall had crumbled in and we couldn’t get in.  The port was only for boats 15metres and less and has them mooring bum into the side, nose sticking out and we were too long for that.  The one suitable spot was reserved for hotel barges and there was nowhere else to go into the side……  We were hot, knackered and now had another potential 2 hour cruise to do, and it was just gone 5pm………  Mike wanted me to phone the Capitaine.  I didn’t want to.  I hate phoning, cold calls, always have, don’t know why, it just puts the fear of God into me.  Mike would have, he doesn’t mind picking up the phone, but he doesn’t speak French.  I do.   A bit.  But when someone then talks back to me in French I have no idea what they’ve said and feel like a right twat, therefore making my fear of cold calling even worse………  I had a huge tantrum and went in the huff and Mike turned the boat around to head back 16km to the first mooring we should have taken, which would take us two hours back the way we’d come.

Eventually, I came and took the tiller and Mike phoned the marina at Aigues Mortes – 20km away – but in the right direction.  The chap didn’t speak English and I tried in French but was so stressed and angry I didn’t have a clue if he understood what I was asking or what he was saying by reply.  My understanding was that we were long, but very narrow (he actually laughed when I told him our width), so we couldn’t go in the visitor moorings but we could go to number 32 – whatever number 32 was.  And there were two huge boats.  So, I didn’t know if we were to moor alongside the big boats who were on number 32 or we were to take number 32.  He further confused me by saying “A demain.” “Until tomorrow.” When I’d definitely been quite specific we’d be arriving tonight…….

After a two hour cruise in silence we approached Aigues Mortes and having looked at it on Google Maps satellite had a rough idea of where to go to.  Once in the port, all became clear; the berths were numbered and are not pontoons, but stern on moorings with poles at the front to rope onto.  As we counted down the numbers, up ahead were two big boats, the ones he’d mentioned and just before them, to the left, was empty berth number 32. 

I realised then that he’d finished work for the evening, the office closes at 7pm, hence he said he’d see us the next day, and I felt utterly elated that we had got moored up, and in such an amazing place.  Mike went straight to bed, it was just after 8pm, so I sat out on the front deck with my book, had a couple of glasses of pink champagne, some cold meat, cheese and bread and watched the little fishes at the surface with delight.  Nothing could spoil my mood at that minute………. We’d made it!

Arriving at Aigues Mortes as the sun was going down.