After little sleep, we called the hospital and were told doctors were on their rounds. The ward sister told me that stacey was fine and should be able to go home today. She had suffered a burst ovarian cyst and it had been important to remove the fluid. They had also discovered a slightly inflamed appendix and had taken it out while they were in there as a precaution. The news was all good and shortly after stacey called with confirmation that the docs were happy that they had sorted everything and she could go home later today. Brilliant!
Suddenly we were hungry. We slipped through the tunnel under the canal and got a baguette, a horseshoe shaped baguette whose name escapes me and a couple of cakes to have with elevens's. Breakfast of yoghurt crumble bread and poached eggs tasted so good!
We slipped away from the lovely village of Chammousey 
inevitably before we even got to mid stream, a vessel rounded the bend behind us and suddenly we were two's up in the locks.
I had already decided to stop at Girancourt just a couple of locks further on to shop at a supermarche publicised in my fluvial book so we would slip him then. In the mean time we could concentrate on this narrow rock lined cut.
So did our French companion who was very friendly.
We both hit the shops. I was checking out beers when the lights went out. Bugger, it closed at noon for 2hours. Proof once again that we will never get used to French shop opening times no matter how long we stay it would seem. Good news was we had loaded up with some serious rib of beef and some huge chops. The carnivore skipper was very happy.
we got back to Doucette and unloaded and decided on a swift departure. The French were topping up fuel so seemed a decent opportunity. I left the crew to pack the fridge and got under way. Into the lock and pulled the lever swiftly. Looked back and in horror discovered a different vessel boldly emblazoned spatz on its bow, approaching the lock at speed. It was too late to stop the process. He was in for a long wait and was rightly gonna be pissed at me. Arsene wenger moment, Honest guv didn't see you. Trouble was he was now at the lock gates and we still had not started moving and he was watching me. I could not bring myself to look at him.
The locks on the Vosges are not only ridiculous in number but to make matters worse they are the slowest in Christendom. I hurtled out and headed for the next just a few hundred metres away. In and away again. Should be able to keep one ahead and save from further embarrassment.
Arrived at next lock just as the gates were flashing and closing. Trimble buggeration a big barge was entering coming the opposite way. That's torn it! An entity later he was out and I was in. I did the decent thing and waited some 5 minutes and sure enough along came Spatz. In he came and just looked at me and said ok, meaning we could pull the lever. No thanks for waiting or by your leave so bugger the sackcloth and ashes routine. Besides I had genuinely not seen him and had nothing to be embarrassed about.
We locked through 2 or 3 more together and entente cordiale was established. More very nice Germans who never spoke a word of english but were clearly very friendly people. The trip became a locking nightmare. 4 locks we had to call the Vnf to sort problems so progress was unbelievably slow. The maddest driving Vnf man was beside himself. 24 lock problems in one day, he spluttered as his phone vibrated and whistled more bad news his way. He looked confused and dazed by the whole affair as his Citroen berlingo left serious rubber on his departure to help more souls in trouble at a lock.
Spatz cleared her top box of goods and was absolutely chuffed with his purchases. she was delirious. Before we had started dropping, she was off screaming up the road to refill the poppins box.
We had not finished with him and at 5.45 with two locks to go to get to a halte for the night we had yet more double red lights. ( buggered)
Bloody nice bloke!
I moor in a tiny gap between a frenchman under repair and a rather nice British flagged 42ft steeler. An Amirante model qoffered it's owner Barry. Had done his early sailing in langstone harbour, small world! Another ex sailor who had sailed the med for several years before finding it becoming too expensive for moorings. 80€ per night he told me was not unusual. Having transferred a yacht through the canals, he had always wanted to return. Bought this beauty Linden Lea 4 years ago but had enjoyed those years around Germany and holland and this was his first French foray.
Quick change and it's a beautiful 2km stroll along the canal towpath to a tiny village called Melomenil. The restaurant is one of only ten farms in the vosges who are part of a scheme. They offer home cooked traditional food using only ingredients produced on the farm.
Collette opted for a traditional Vosges tart thing. It was a huge slice and was a pastry case with a Munster cheese and home cooked ham filling. Super.
I at last braved the fromage du tete. Basically lots of aspic cementing chunky bits of pigs head. this also came with a huge slab of home made compagne pâté.
We had a huge bowl of lettuce leaves coated in a mustard dressing with home made crusty bread which was too die for.
Could we manage mains. We had coq au vin. The chicken free rage was red from marinating right through to the bones and was stunning. We hardly did justice to the haricot beans and a buttery sweet and savoury sautéed potatoe and carrots dish. More bread was just silly now!
Dessert was home made vanilla ice cream and stewed baby apricots.
Coffee.
We had beers and a 50cl pichet of red wine. Total cost a fantastic 48€
we walked back along a moonlit thank god but otherwise pitch black towpath through the dense pine forest and waxed lyrical about tonight's whole experience. Brilliant!
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