Sunday 5th August Port sur Soane.

The wedding reception in the town hall some 150m away had still been in full swing at 5 am when I had my morning call from below decks. And so it was just after 10 when the steel steeds took the weight and we headed for the shops. We bumped into Baz And fi who told us about staying up late watching the fantastic saturday night olympics with 3 golds for GB with ennis, mo farra and the cyclist lacy doing the business. We had not been able to get a signal as the boat was wrong way moored so were band frustrated not issuing it. They said they were moving on so we said our goodbyes for now.

We returned heavily loaded and collette put the kettle on. " gas has gone" came the cry. I was actually very pleased. It had lasted a fantastic amount of time and i knew it was imminent and with carla and dan arriving soon this was good timiing. I got my trolly and walked back to the supermarket. There were enormous queues. At the checkout as it was fast approaching closing time. One of the cashiers saw me with the empty bottle and shouted something. I said recharge, he stopped serving and called me over. 30€ please. I paid not daring to look up but expecting an eruption of protest any second. It never materialised. I was given my reciept and the second cashier now stopped and told me to follow her. She also left a queu of at least 10 shoppers at her till. 2 minutes later I was on my merry way. It was quite incredible.

Back at Doucette after bedding in the new bottle we sat down to crepes with egg mushrooms emmentale rape and ham. Oh my god they were good!

After brunch, we needed Electric and water so after checking out my gear following the Corre incident and finding no faults, we headed down to the marina. Linden lea had left and so I slipped into her perfectly positioned mooring. Plugged in without incident and topped the water. We got Internet from next door and set about planning for Carla and dans arrival in dijon Thursday night. This was proving a logistical nightmare. We had lost any chance of reaching Dijon when the starter motor had caused a 4 day stay at richardmenil. The last train from Dijon towards the soane leaves at 9.30. I priced a taxi at 120€. Ok it would have to be a hotel overnight then train in the morning. That still meant we had to get to Gray some 80 Kms on and while no problem, I was not keen on dashing down this beautiful river. We decided on a hire car. Plans made we settled down just as the heavens opened. Another storm? Dining plans suddenly altered and it was a chicken and mushroom curry which filled our bellies washed down with some merlot and fizz.

 

 

 

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Saturday 4th August Corre to Port sur Soane

Trip 41kms Departure 11.30. Locks 5 of 342

After yoghurt, cereal, egg cheese and mushroom and tomatoe omelette, I topped the tanks with my two spare cans of fuel and slipped the 100m to the garage to get two refills which also went in.

It was another beautiful hot day and we slipped through our last Vosges lock and were finally on the river soane. It was just beautiful.

There is definately something special about the meanderings and natural banks of a river. The scenery was oh so different suddenly and as we passed through ormy, the first town, we noticed the red tiled roofs of the houses, a sure sign we were heading closer toward the south.

With a speed limit of 8 knots, it was nice to give Doucette her head and she lifted her bow ever so slightly in appreciation for some throttle. The engines too were desperate for some work and soon they showed their appreciation with a reduction in smoke. Oil pressure was back up to 3.5 so all was good with the world.

We just sat back and enjoyed the luxury of travel with just the odd lock. The soane was widening and the trees just seemed to get greener and greener!

Fantastic! After a couple of hours we were staggered as to how far we had travelled and decided on the next nice mooring being for us. The next three were full with hire boats though, but no surprise as they were all beauties!

It was so hot even the cows needed to cool off in the river

After 41kms we came into port sur soane. Another lovely village entry.

 

We saw a couple waving from a delightful looking bar overlooking the canal. The BBC were in town. We waved back and moved through the town to a long bollarded quay. We could see the marina further on and went to check it out. Spotted linden lea but decided the quay would be nice so returned and tied up.

 

It was a busy thoroughfare and pretty much every local walked down it at least once a day! We had drinks and relaxed in the seriously hot sun. Barry and Fiona passed and shouted about drinks tonight. They wanted to try the bar at the marina so we arranged to meet at 6.

Had a stroll up to the supermarket and bought some wine. Took a nice call from fireman Fred at home. Lovely to catch up with him and hopefully he is popping out to visit. Decided to come back with bikes for some heavy stuff tomorrow water and beer running low again. There was a wedding going on in town and the whole town seemed to be out congratulating the newlyweds on the church steps as we passed. Women always look very attractive at a wedding, usually!

The town was preparing for the start tomorrow of an international folk festival. The town hall plaza was full of impressive cravings representative of all nine nations participating. I was just pleased to be there really!

Strolled up to the marina bar at 6. It was already busy but we got a table for drinks. Pleasant couple of hours before getting back for some dinner at 8.30. It had been so hot, we had planned on a tuna and egg salad. Afterm drinks this didn't sound too thrilling to either of us but we decided we should. With the bottle of Burgoyne aligote it was fabulous and we sat out and watched tomorrow arrive listening to some smooth jazz and sipping snifters.

 

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Friday 3rd August Passivant to Corre

Trip 6 Kms. Departure 11.45 locks 3 of 337

It was a late start, avalon had left. I looked again for the camera card but aft a fruitless search of the dinghy and boat finally accepted the inevitable truth. Gone for all money!

We set off. At the second lock whilst on tick over, I noticed the oil pressure dropping to 2.5 on the port engine. this decided me to stop at Corre to sort it out. We could not help but notice the dramatic change in the scenery from the forests of the Vosges to the more gentle undulations of the upper soane reaches.

The last of our locks as we approached Corre was beautifully manicured. We particularly liked the sunflowers.

The final approach to the small halte is through a boat width tunnel. Our problem was that it was blocked by a fallen tree branch. The crew were magnificent in removing it from harms way and we moored on a finger pontoon two along from Avalon.

I plugged the electrics in and visions of verdun came flooding back as three boats immediately ejected complaining crew, " who's messed the electric"

The capitinnaire arrived, it's not me I protested.

This time though, it was. I did not understand why but I would look at that later as I needed to get to the supermarket to get some oil as a priority but they were still shut for lunch as per usual. The capitinnaire kindly refunded me my 2€ for electric. I decided to make a start and empty the old oil from the sump and change the oil filter.

We were interrupted by 80 yr old nick off of Avalon inviting us for gin and tonics tonight. That sounded bloody marvellous and he looked not even close to 80 so gin was obviously very healthy.

We took the steel wheelers the 1km to intermarche and shopped including my oil. Got back and completed the change and cleared my blocked bilge pump at the same time, cleaned the air filters and strainers. Before having some bread and cheese and pâté and fruit.

A quick shower and it was gin time. Nick and Pam were delightful hosts. Both have been living in the south of France for 28years. Both have been boating these waterways for 10. They had been married 12 years and their stories of how they got to France all those years ago and why were inspiring. Nick was 80 going on fifty and genuinely remarkable. Bloody nice evening.

We got back to Doucette and downed loads more drink and were drunk again. I am despairing of the crew!

 

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Thursday 2nd August. Fontenoy Le Chateau to Passavant la Rochere

Trip 16kms Departure 2pm Locks 8 of 334

We decided on a Pre breakfast stroll. The storm had cleared the humidity and the day had that loverly fresh clean heat about it. Fontenoy is another picture postcard place and we climbed the opposite bank of the canal to a high path giving beautiful views over the town.

We spotted the post office showing its age with its frontage walls advertising "Telegraphs" we called into the quaint old boulangerie. Problem was Collette decided to pick up a litre of tango and some citron syrup so my walk was now a laden one, and it was bloody hot!

The old church was unique to us in that the inside walls were still just as you would have expected them to have looked originally. The bare hand hewn blocks and rough mortar indicative that this was a town of importance and rich in roman times. The old chateau remains on the hill bordered the cemetary where the spirits of the town watched over its evolution. Outside of the cemetary we watched a father and young son preparing the wood for the winter fuel. Old walls lining the high steep banks of the river coney, on which this town had been built all evidence of a wealthy past. However, the decline of the town much evidenced in the dilapidation of so much of the real estate as we moved away from the hub of the town centre. An old cafe and charcuterie typical of this depressing story similarly related over the whole of rural France.

The canal cut follows the river coney so closely through the town and made for some beautiful scenes. The town is full of little signs with hand written quotes from all sorts of historic figures, politicians philosophers, kings and commoners. Made for interesting translation exercises. It was a lovely morning.

A late healthy brunch where most of the fresh bread was devoured preceded a gorgeous run out of Fontenoy. Straight into a narrow cliff lined gorge,

a section of wide river with most of the shallow bed dried up despite the couple of recent storms,

a quite magnificent lockside house and garden caught our attention with the very proud owner waving and clearly pleased with our obvious admiration for his abode.

We nearly colided with an oncoming yacht as we left a single boat width stretch. Typical sailor, he obviously didn't know his waterway signs and had ignored the instruction to sound his horn before entering the one boat width 500m reach with bends at both ends and he had been too far away to have heard mine when I entered from the other end blasting away on my air horns.

We approached a lock and a car came to a starsky and hutch style halt. A blonde leapt from the car and raced across toward the lock and suddenly we were being filmed entering. I slipped my shades on and attempted to look nonchalant.

Fat chance!

Her tall partner strolled over and I engaged. We spluttered some French stuff about lovely boat and he informed me that he was a sailor. Oh oh I thought! Yes he preferred sailing, it was more technical he announced. And at this point I realised he was obviously Dutch. He asked me leeringly if I was French! I snapped English at him as he knew all to well from our bloody great flag right in front of him where I came from. He asked to speak in English. Some sort of sailor, he had not heard of the Solent or cowes.

 

Turns out, the Dutchman was on vacation and asked about hiring a boat. Do you know the signal for sound your horn, i wanted to ask him but I settled for sending him towards Fontenoy thinking I had already met enough sailors on this waterway for one day and he may go in the opposite direction. Meanwhile the blonde continued to film as the lock gates opened and we said our fond farewells and happy holidays.

We passed a lovely waterside chateau

before disturbing the peace of the student in charge of opening the lifting bridge in Selles, where we found youngsters swimming across our path so slowed and shouted Bon journee's responded with beaming smiles and waves back. The huge propellor in the garden of one of the houses was a common site to us on the waterways. It usually indicated the owner to have been a peniche man or women in their working life.

We were passing through the last of the Vosges forests and the scenery was opening out to hilly meadows with more cattle in evidence. We reached a long quay in a lovely spot with just one boat tied alongside. I instantly recognised it as Avalon. The boat from the noisy teenagers mooring a few days back. The occupants were clearly choring heavily on their boat so we gave them plenty of space and settled down to cheese and biscuits and a glass or two.

I noticed a car parked some 200m at the end of this natural port. A chap was sat behind his car looking straight at us. After some time I realized he was not fishing or reading but just sat there.

It was a stinker and Collette was in quite a skimpy bikini. The chap started wandering down toward the boat. He had on a shirt which came just below his parts and there was no sign of shorts. He was wearing speedos I assumed. Collette went below not liking the cut of his gib. Unfair I thought, upon reaching us, he engaged me in conversation. I chatted and he strolled slowly back to his car.

Collette came back up and sunbathed. I had removed the camera memory card to put the pictures onto the laptop. I noticed the chap was at the boot of his car and was closing it. I thought he must be leaving but instead he sat this time directly behind his car but I could see him looking through the drivers side window straight at us. I put the card on the table and said to Collette, " bloody hell I think he has got binoculars out and is perving you darling" she scurried down below as I picked up the books about to go and check him out.

At that moment two things happened, a car with a family came along the towpath and headed for our suspect and I heard the sound of something hitting my dinghy.

Instantly, I knew it was the sd card. Boxxxxxxxxxx

I leapt down to find no sign in the dinghy. Suspect left the scene whilst I was dropping the dinghy off of the boat to check it all over. Surely it would float said the crew. Absolutely no sign. I could not believe my misfortune. The card had flown from the poop deck the gap to the water as they say did not exist, but it had gone to Davy jones locker. I spent an hour in the water still thinking it would suddenly appear. It did not.

Thank god Collette had already downloaded onto the iPad and I had finished but it was a bitter blow as it was a big memory card and not cheap and all the fault of the bloody flasher Pervy.

I consoled myself with a huge slab of rib of cow on the cob with haricot and fancy French cakes for dessert. We drank a bottle of Prosecco some merlot and I had beers. We were a tad drunk and delirious as we watched highlights of a great day for GB in London.

 

I went to bed still not believing that the card had gone in the water whilst Collette continued her assault of "now if I had done that" nonsense. I was very soon snoring!

 

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Wednesday 1st August Port les Bains to Fontenoy Le Chateau

Trip 6kms Departure 11.30 Locks 6 of 326

I finally got to have savoury crepes for brekky. Topped with melted emmentale, a slab of ham and two sunny side fried eggs washed down with a cappuccino. Bloody marvellous start to a stonking hot day.

A short hop and only 6 locks today. Luxury for the crew!

The scenery is just getting better and better and we are now falling for the charms of the real Vosges. We spot a small farming village whose roads are defined by large pots. A first for me.

At the approach to the fourth lock we are joined on the towpath by a family enjoying a horse drawn caravan vacation. Looks so romantic but not sure if the crew would be happy with mucking out every night so decide to stick with Doucette.

 

 

The lock houses are home to rusting tractors and free range chickens chasing ducks along the riverbank.

One sad feature of the run is the increasing number of derelict old property. Typical of rural France, an age is fast disappearing and it is impossible not to ponder on the future of these waterways. The economic artery's of yesterday France is an expensive holiday playground to maintain and it is difficult to understand how enough revenue is generated by us pleasure boaters to sustain the whole system in the long term. But then what do I know about it?

Talking of which last lock of the day, in we go, pull the blue, gates start to close but stop with inches to go. A whirring is heard for some five minutes but no closey baby!

Vnf man cometh. He try but bad news, he announces " technical problem" he gets on the phone. By now craft are waiting outside on both sides of the lock. At least we are in the best spot. The crew makes tea and Vnf man comes off the phone. I look expectedly. He shrugs " technical problem" suddenly there is a loud rushing water noise and Doucette drops. I look towards Vnf man. He laughs "we have good luck today it fixes itself"

All well and good but I had tied our lines off and with Doucette dropping alarmingly quickly the strain is already on the cleats. The crew is still below so it's down to the skipper who deftly leaps from the poop screaming for the knife. I am unbelievably lucky as I had only put one snatch on the cleat and with no time to spare manage to slip the line off and free it with a twang as the strain is relieved on the cleat. A real close shave. Vnf man is also relieved as he confirms all is ok and explains that the lock gates just suddenly cleared themselves and started the process without him initiating it. Phew.

We slip into Fontenoy and immediately notice Linden Lea tied alongside the quay outside of the Le boat offices. Barry is out in a thrice to help us with mooring and in the baking heat we have a catch up and barry suggests Pre dinner drinks on his boat at 6. He also advises that we have missed the boulangerie and Fiona very kindly donates half a baguette so we can at least have lunch.

Merguez baguettes do the job and then despite the searing heat, Collette states that she has to do the washing. Within a couple of hours the boat is draped in smalls and stuff and a quick shower and bottle of fizz in hand we head down the quay for a welcome snifter.

We enjoy a very pleasant evening discovering that both retired from the BBC 10yrs ago. Barry was involved in outside broadcasts and had covered all the big sporting events so we had loads to chat about. Fiona was a music specialist who directed the cameras for all the major opera screenings and the proms and was still in demand for her specialist work today. It was an entertaining evening and the fun really kicked in at 9 when a thunderstorm unleashed from nowhere. Oh my god the washing, cried the crew. The goodbyes were hurried to say the least and we dashed back to rescue the afternoons labours.

We changed eating plans and settled for a tin of lidles chilli with a bit of skippers nonsense jazz while the lightning flashed and the thunder rumbled slowly into the distance.

 

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