Thursday may 17th Corbie to Sailly Laurette

Trip 10kms Departure 12.30pm

Popped up to lidl for provisions. En route stopped off at the magazine du pecheur. 3 people in there and the owner. They were fantastic. Sorted me out new rod,ground bait, spare hooks, floats and a bag of live wriggling maggots which The crew stipulated would not be allowed near her fridge. They set the rod up for me so I could literally pop a maggot on and suddenly look like a Somme professional. all this for a mere £475. I jest of course it was less than £20 all told. Very pleased.

At Corbie you have electric and water for 2 euros but it lasts 10hours. We had long luxuriant showers and charged anything with a plug on it before slipping away shortly after midday for the short hop to Sailly laurette. We were soon confronted by the wierdest contraption ever to bless these waters surely? The skipper looked very pleased with himself as I took the picture.

Collette was thrilled to see a little white duck amongst the hatchlings.

It was yet another beautiful stretch of river.

 

Whilst the crew chored, I checked out the famous auberge de ecluse, frequented by both German and allied armies in both wars and the place where poet, wilfred Owen penned his famous hospital barge poem in ww1. I realised upon entry that there was an ongoing issue. At one table sat a slovenly dark haired strumpet Sipping a house rose opposite a worse for wear beer drinker who's slightly wavering posture gave a clue as to how long he had been here. The patron "basil Cleese" was gesticulating with whirling arms as a forlorn goofy toothed chap held his arms up in absolute surrender. It turned out he had 3 times tried to enter his credit card code to pay his bill and the card had been rejected finally and forever. There followed a long discussion where 3 times was mentioned on at least 30 occasions and I was soon asked to get involved.

Suddenly the conversation turned to the war and how fantastic the English and the Australians were. Not them again I mused. Ah we french not good soldiers, but you English and as for the newly elected French president, he certainly did not get too many votes in Sailly apparently.

I shocked the patron by asking if a 7.30 table for 2 would be possible. There was a sudden hush in the room. Have I made an error here? The patron shrugged " mais oui Monsieur pas de problem mais nous n' avons pas Le Picard ficelle. Fabulous I said steak au poivre will be fine, see you at 7

As I left I heard the strappy topped Madame suggest to her beau that he never took her to dinner.

We arrived at 7 for Pre dinner drinks. The bar was now gushing with 6 people. We had clearly been awaited. Goofy introduced us to a bearded old boy as an old soldier of France. No sign of the couple.

A tall distinguished looking chap introduced himself and spoke a less than fluent English but was clearly pleased with himself in his 10gallon Stetson hat. I asked about flachettes, an old darts game thrown underhand which had featured in a book I had read referring to the auberge. He took me outside showed me the boules pitch and a crumpled wall where apparently the forgotten art of flachettes used to be played. A shame I thought. Stetson insisted on paying for our Pre dinner beer and pastis and our welcome was genuinely warm and rather nice. Cleese invited us through to the dining room. Perhaps 60 covers all laid in case of a coach load left us incredulous. The place was magnificent. No change since himmler walked out 70 years ago. The walls adorned with posters advertising gable and Ohara new movie gone with the wind. Stuffed animals collected cobwebs and the screen in the corner from behind which grandmama would erupt singing a chorus of Edith Piaf but the sweetest thing was to see strappy and wavering body sat at a table practically comatose with a carafe of red wine and 2 plates of food untouched.

Cleese fluttered around us with the good news that picardie ficelle was now available. We ordered 2 steak au poivre. The meal was actually lovely. Steaks excellent. The house red was very drinkable. Scrappy got wavering up somehow to leave with Cleese arms windmilling gesturing at the untouched food, the wine was now gone. We followed them to a now empty bar. Cleese accompanied them outside. Opposite the auberge had been parked a fairground bumper car with a roof. We were left open mouthed as wavering squelched his way behind the wheel and got a cheery wave from Cleese as he kangaroo'd into the sunset. Cleese shrugged and offered us pastis as we asked for l'addition.

He poured drinks before rushing off to return carrying an old cane rocking chair which he insisted the crew sit in. He dissappeared again this time returning with 2 hats apparently presented to him by those fabulous australians. Photo Monsieur he asked. I was made to promise to send him a copy to refresh the decor with. Quite an honour I thought, himmler, gable, now mrs LOWMAN.

What a night!