Saturday 1st September Pont Royal to Marigny Le Cahouet

Trip. 12Kms. Departure 9am. Locks 13 of 460

We awoke to a september welcome which was more winters here than indian summer autumn. It was freezing. Socks and trainers jeans and t and sweat and musto jacket necessary. Breath froze. What the hell is happening with the weather. Incredulous to think of the 107 degrees of just a few days ago. Still the forecast offered hope of fairly rapid improvement so after Fried eggs and bread and hot tea, a sharp getaway at 8.50 to arrive at the first lock of the day at 9 was accomplished.

It starter to rain at the first lock but quickly cleared thank goodness. Progress was excellent despite these locks all being manual and with only two keepers looking after us.

The burgundy scenery was keeping spirits high despite the biting chill.

The locks are old and this one leaked like a sieve where the joint between the doors was failing but it made for a lovely water fountain display as we dropped.

The keepers worked as a drilled team and incredibly we were through the last lock as midday struck. Great work and the 8€ tip was well earned. We moored just 100m from the next ecluse which was the home of two of our eclusiers, a very nice husband and wife team. they had a lovely cottage and kept chickens. 6 very fresh eggs were purchased and I organised a water top up. We strolled into the village to try and catch the Boulangerie. Just made it and one pain to the good.

After a cheese and pates lunch we decided to head off the 12kms to Semur en Auxois, alledgedly, a very well preserved medieval town. The weather was still overcast and we took the heavy mustoe's which i just knew was a mistake. The crew was slightly concerned at the 12km distance and there was a rural railway line which runs past to semur just a couple of hundred metres from the boat. I assured the crew that if it was working at all it would definately not be operating on a weekend.

After half a mile, we heard the shrill whistle of the bloody train. I dare not look back at the crew as we struggled up the rise. The ride was classic france, lovely farm land, charontenais cattle, horses and lambs took interest in our passing, sweetcorn ripe for harvest weighing down the plants filling hectares in perfect precision set lines and hawks circling on the warm air currents seeking out their prey as the skies cleared and the warmth of that yellow thing hit us like a oven door opening. Clothes removed and stashed hurriedly.

We approached another train crossing and yes along came the bloody train on its loop back toward semur. We had seen 1car and 2 trains in 7 Kms, incredible! The crew smiled knowingly.

We never regretted it though as the bikeride was fabulous. It was now a very hot day, the contrast with the morning could not have been greater. Weird stuff this weather!

We arrived in semur and stashed the bikes. What a stunning fantastic town. We strolled around it for hours, first through the old entrance arch into the grand rue,

 

we took the steps down through the ramparts,

down to the river where rows of immaculate allotments lined the hillside whilst across the river we spied the most arduous and surely expensive hedge trimming job i have ever witnessed,

the old stone bridge across the picturepostcard river and bankside cottages,

 

we followed the ramparts round and climbed again up to the beautiful Eglise

where we stumbled on a wedding. Interesting in that it was themed medieval and all the attendees were dressed in appropriate costume including the bride and groom.

Some window shopping amongst the wood beamed fronted shops

before settling down to a leffe at the cafe just under the cobbled main street entrance arch where we had begun our tour.

An hour of people watching and then it was time for the return journey via the supermarche where we treated ourselves to some serious steak for dinner. The crew went for entrecôte whilst I chose fillet. Mean slabs they were too if a tad hefty on the wedge.

The ride back was easier and just as lovely and of course we crossed swords with the bloody train on its way back to Marigny. I was gobsmacked!

Back at the boat, I topped up with water before a restful half hour. Fired up the magma and went for a stroll to see if the village cafe was open for an aparatif. No of course it wasn't being 8pm on Saturday night but we did see the most fantastic car port.

The battle of the steak cuts produced a clear winner. The smaller entrecôte was a runaway victor, far more tender and tastier. We are slowly getting there with the mystery that is meat cuts and what to purchase.

It had been a helluva full day and Semur had provided us with one of our trip highlights, we agreed as we sat in the dark sipping merlot dreaming of the omelettes with those fresh eggs for tomorrows breakfast.

 

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