Wednesday 23rd May Peronne to Guny

Trip 73kms Departure 9am. Locks 10 of 28

I always planned a travel day today as had not been overly keen on the canal du nord last year, so an early start, checked and cleaned strainers coolant levels and oil. Stbd took about 6 pints so concerned that leak was not getting any better. Misty so had to wait til 9 to leave the berth.

Found myself directly behind a French motorboat and followed him down to the first lock where we were joined by Colin and Hilary. We travelled and made excellent progress with the 3 boats sharing the locks and I have to say that the canal seemed a lot prettier than I had recalled. Still peniches appeared and nice to see still in business.

It was also noticeable the difference in the size of drops at the locks and the lock gates now being guillotine style, which meant a soaking as you exited and a dash to get cameras and books under cover.

Hot dogs for lunch as we enjoyed another day contrary to the forecast. It got hot and sunny, very hot and it was good to be creamed and naked.

We arrived at the first tunnel of the campaign, the 1040 Panneterie tunnel. We had been caught out by the very low walls last year and I was happy to pass on advice to the other two boats. Fenders were lowered and just as well as still a tricky passage where it is so narrow and difficult to avoid these potentially nasty concrete grp rippers. Colin particularly was uncomfortable as he needed to maintain speed for steerage but stuck behind me I was in no hurry to hit the wall at any speed.

 

Having mastered the tunnel we were greeted by the blue lady, like so many before us, on arrival at Pont L'eveque 47 Kms on seemingly in no time and waved our farewells to Frenchy and The broom. We continued as it was just so lovely and celebrated our solitude with chicken salad baguettes and leffe.

We enjoyed the antics of a father his 2 young boys and 2 dogs all mounted on a moped riding along the canal towpath. The Alsatian would jump off and run to keep up flagging in the heat and papa would stop let him catch up and rest before another km was started. We stayed in touch for about half an hour and he would toot his horn as they caught up yet again and the boys would wave and shout to us that they would overtake us eventually. All good fun and suddenly we were at abbecourt and time to turn into the canal de L'oise a l'Aisne., but have to do a swift astern manoeuvre as we are confronted by the heavy bow of a laden panache and we are not going to win any Mexican stand off battles!

Remote control is given at the first lock and from now on we are in control. 200m from the lock you press your remote and hey presto the lock prepares for entry. When in I manoeuvre next to a box with two poles red and blue. Red for emergency blue to set the lock fill or empty in process. Collette pulls the blue pole and I go astern so that she can tie us on to the bollards. All quite straightforward.

This canal is another picturesque reach and we are soon passing over a small aqueduct crossing the river aisne.

We go through dense forest before arriving at a lovely looking halte at Guny.

I finally retrieve the now half dead maggots from the anchor locker and try a bit of fishing. No luck

After beers Disaronno and a beautiful joint of pork with haricot vert, I rest with a glass of red whilst the crew washes up. A scream pierces from the saloon. An army of maggots are crawling down the deck past the galley window. We are up til 12.30 tracking down every last one clearing the boat of the invasion. Collette suffered a sleepless night worrying about the intruders. I suffered a sleepless night worrying about Collette removing my parts!

 

Tuesday May 22nd Peronne

Morning spent catching up on blogs, trying to sort iPad photo issues and emails home. So lucky to be getting loads and always exciting to open a new one. Fuel was going really well and with petrol station just 200meters away, took the opportunity to fill tanks and store extra 45 litres for Ron. Only took 95ltres total. Strolled down to a recommended restaurant to book a dinner table. Chap answers the door to tell us closed on Tuesdays. What is it about this country? How do they make a living? Still we could learn something me thinks, quality of life is probably enhanced, particularly for service industries, shop closed 2 hours lunch and all day sunday etc and yet weirdly the French still survive!

Shopped in lidls and cobbled a 3€ chicken, tasted better than the 14€ affair from Amiens, lessons learnt their. Went down nicely with collettes cauliflower cheese with chorizo and a bottle of the best yet bubbly. Blanquette de limoux brut. More of that to come.

Weather. Much better than forecast, overcast but no rain and actually cleared to a lovely sunny evening for the BBQ.

 

Monday 21st May Cappy to Peronne

Trip 15kms Departure 2pm. Locks 3 of 18. Weather heavy rain am showers til teatime overcast evening

Had a boat cleaning and chores day with crappy Cappy weather. Fan heater did us proud and all clothes now stashed dry. Trip was delightful so it was a shame about the overcast conditions and the Somme really narrows in these upper stretches.

We presented our favourite eclusier with a bottle of the prized merlot as he had been so cheerful and helpful. A weelly nishe guy.

We had planned on stopping at place called Feuilleres but the halte was next to a busy road and when I inched alongside Doucette stuck hard 1 ft from bank and it felt stony so ended up moving on to Peronne which meant we had suddenly left the Somme after a fantastic 3weeks.

 

Peronne was packed but there was a tiny gap on the inside just against the bank. I was happy draught would be ok as had been there last July. 42ft broom and a large peniche were in the firing line but good old Doucette turned on a sixpence and we were in and electric and water a plenty. We met Colin and Hilary from the broom and there pet Newfoundland rabbit "scruff". Colin tried to sell me his broom and Collette seeing its size was impressed. Not for me though.

We get news from home but see a bad forecast for next 2 days. Have a marvellous coq au vin for dinner and drink merlot to come to terms with the forecast.

 

Sunday May 20th Braye sur Somme to Cappy

Trip 5kms Departure 11am Locks 2 of 15

Weather tricky clothes day, warm in the sun chilly in the clouds.

Tried a bulot coupe (sliced bloomer) from the boulangerie, I wanted to do some fishing and try out my new gear as we were in the Mecca of fishing on this river but already there were a scattering of pecheurs lining the bank alongside us and every shop in the village advertised the sale of 1 day to annual fishing license's. The maggots would have to survive another day in the anchor locker as I was too scared to a) get caught and b) look a prat who did not know the first thing about river fishing.

Yes yes I know what you are thinking.


We slipped effortlessly through 2 locks and soon reached Cappy.

The centre for the Locaboat hire fleet. Fleet being about 10 boats as far as I could tell. The facilities include a few finger pontoons which made great designed by a trampoline producer for boats about 25 feet and 8 feet beam, still we accomplished a safe berthing. Paid my 15€ and went for a stroll, first a swift tour of the unremarkable Cappy where the only thing i found of note was a particularly ghastly blue war memorial and a new boat project for Bri and jezzer, ex idle beavers.

Then it was off to the narrow gauge railway museum 2kms back down river at Frise. The railway was used to transport as much as 15000 tons of ammunitions to the front, per day in ww1. The museum was actually rather good with many examples of engines and rolling stock,

but it was the train ride that was so much better than anticipated. It lasted an hour and involved an electric and steam engine. We took the route alongside the canal then up through a woods and tunnel onto the green and yellow rolling plains we had come to love on this trip. We crossed a busy road and ended up at an old sugar mill. This had been the original reason for the track being here. I am by no means a train anorak despite collettes constant crowing that we had seemed to become a bit obsessed with trains thus far, but even she had to admit to thoroughly enjoying the whole experience.

I

We returned to the boat spotting two lads having great fun on one of those seesaw type wagons running down the track, the trains having finished there puffing for another day. Back aboard we made full use of electric. The washing machine took a hammering and once again Doucette was a laundry barge with the fan heater full on to aid drying as the weather had clouded and "it's the only way I will get them dry Andrew"

I decided to have a couple of beers and read before a late supper of fish soup followed by steak hache burgers with onions and of course some new potatoes and salad.

 

 

Saturday May 19th Bray-s-Somme

 

A visit to the local artisan produced the best baguettes and croissant to date. Add to that a pain raisin and pain tortose and we were fit for a stroll around the lakes. The French party left with there 3 boats and I considered moving but we were set., and had been ok overnight so left well alone.

We packed the bikes and left for a ride to Albert a short hop of 10 Kms away. It was hot and unforgiving on the climb out of bray and the Somme valley but as ever we were rewarded with splendid views as compensation. We passed yet another tiny beautifully kept cemetery, I say passed, I stopped for a look but the crew was on a roll and not prepared to risk it.

 

We passed the modern classically French human free zone of Picardy Albert airfield. Despite a total lack of movement, very expensive improvements were obviously being carried out to this modern ghost town of an airport. The French are a bit mad say I.

 

We dropped into Albert the glistening madonna atop the cathedral establishing the town centre. A dubiously placed sign for the war museum suggested we head up a steep hill away from the city centre. I expressed doubts and suggested we head on into town and find a nice spot for picnic but Collette said let's just go to the museum and find somewhere there. We climbed the gruelling hill and when on the outskirts of the city I got the iPad out. The museum was at the cathedral.

We launched ourselves back down the steep hill at eddy mercks pace. Suddenly I took a hit in the neck. I felt the sting tail stuck in my neck as the venom was injected. The crew was now in trouble. We got to the town hall and I stopped to get a picture of this imposing edifice. I felt a second invasion in my back. Argh Collette the bloody thing is still in there.. I ripped off my shirt and Collette swished the offender away. Big wasp she coolly uttered and he got you 3 times on your back. That made 4 bites. Off to the pharmacy. 7 euros worth of ointment afterm an interesting attempt at explaining with some impatience that I did not want a cream to stop them I had already been bloody well swamped. I ended up having to show the pharmacist the lumps and then ah je comprenez. Thank god. Collette was liberal with the cream at my request and it did the trick.

Off to the cathedral and there sat the museum entrance. We locked the wheeled steeds and sat on the fountain steps eating our picnic. I was fascinated by a chesty young girl in a basque style top enhancing her assets who wore denim hot pants with the most awful flesh coloured tights. By the time we finished lunch, I had decided she must be of that noble profession as she was just hanging around.

We went to look in the church first. The spire topping gold madonna was hit by a bomb during the war and hung horizontal as a result. It became folklore that on the day she fell the war would end. Didn't happen but the war ending did.

 

As we opened the door there was a loud siren and horn sound. We turned and watched police motorcycles hurtle past. What, on earth..... The they came, lurex clad dwarfs with elastic muscles hammered past in a blink of an eye followed by a caravan of support vehicles. The speed was sensational. A gap and then the throng of the peloton sizzled through followed by an endless line of logo emblazoned estate cars laden with cycle filled roof racks. It was quite magnificent but as quick as ,they arrived they were gone.

I cannot have more admiration for the smooth logistical planning of this whole episode on the part of the organisers. This was a major city centre closed down to traffic just minutes before this racing bike conga hit town and minutes later you would never have known it had. Occurred. Superb.

 

We enjoyed the cathedral, a surprise inside. Albert was mostly destroyed in the war and much was rebuilt in art deco style. The cathedral has bits that are moorish and bits that are almost roman and very colourful. A big contrast to previously visited prayer houses but thoroughly enjoyable.

Next it was the museum. Laid out in a huge tunnel which was built as a second world war air raid shelter for the albertonians. It fitted about 2500 so a pretty big museum. Usual stuff inside re ww1 but right up my street.

 

We left and found flesh tights clearly having an argument with a rough looking diamond. I think the relationship may have ended and I felt terribly guilty about my thoughts re her reason for being there and admonished myself for being judgemental.

 

The trip back was much easier and quicker. We barby'd the rest of steak chicken and rabbit and I listened to a gripping champions league final as I could not get a sat signal much to my chagrin. The merlot from shoppy settled me though and I still loved it. Pleased for my old mate Perez but sad for tone and dan as buggers up spurs.

 

Weather hot got a bit misty late evening.

 

Friday, May 18th Sailly Laurette to Bray sur Somme

Trip 12 Kms. Departure 11am locks 1 of 13

A short but again a scenic delight of a trip today. We left unsure of our destination but I was keen to investigate the capital of fishing on the Somme at Bray. The fluvial showed a side stream right into the village but also showed a red cross at the entrance with warnings of depths of less than 1meter. This would preclude me from going so at the first lock, I asked advice of our eclusier who had been looking after us for the last two locks and seemed a thoroughly decent chap. "mais oui Monsieur, pas de problem Le port c'est tres bien pour votre bateau mais avant vous aller je telephone." after a brief call he exclaimed 1 meter 50 cms. We left the lock and I was still a little unsure.

Unusual for the fluvials to be wrong but these guys know their river. We passed a fairly mundane etang skirting the river, there must have been 60 pecheurs drowning the small lake in ground bait and bobbing brightly coloured floats. No more than 5 yards apart this was a serious competition. Many were adorned in the green uniform of team Somme. I drifted past praying for the engines to be quieter as I was sure I would soon be turned on with a 60 pecheurs chorus of shhhhh. Needn't have worried, they were far too focused to take mind of Doucette's passing.

We just cannot stop ourselves keep taking pictures of the river but it just does that to you. Every turn warrants a "are you 'avin a larf".

 

We drifted along and to my horror our way ahead seemed blocked by a newly fallen tree. As we rounded the bend a tad more, I realised it was an optical illusion and there was at least 15 ft to get through. Argh, hope that bank has good depth. Certain muscles tweaked as I slowed the approach but the skipper nestled us through and the moment had passed.

 

The next bend revealed tosser number 2 of the trip. 100 yards in front a young pecheurs with his adoring wife watching intently from the comfort of the Citroen sat with his extended pole bridging the river just meters short of the far bank. As I always, I slowed to a couple of knots well in time and in accordance with the polite best practice to which I adhere and have enjoyed many merci salutations resultingly. My bow gently moved onward and still the pecheurs eyes never left his float. This was getting rediculous was he expecting me to stop completely, his lady just gazed at him, she also appearing oblivious to our approach. Had he had a nibble? I was preparing to give him a blast as I had nowhere to go and had crept to within 10feet. Sod him I thought I will open her up, at that very moment the monster of a pole lifted imperiously into the air. Up and up it went and to my incredulity the pecheur looked up and sneered a bonjour at me. His line had missed me by inches, I promise you. No need young man. I retained my dignity and responded likewise followed by an under the breath "tosser"!

We reached the point of decision. The river signs pointed right but there was a cutting searching into the woods and a small rotting sign advertising "port du braye s Somme"

I slowed to a crawl, glanced Nervously at the red cross on the fluvial but turned Doucettes bow left. I posted the crew forward to keep a wary eye. This was uncharted waters as far as I was concerned. We had 3 Kms to reach the village.

It was African queen stuff as the river narrowed dramatically and weaved its way through woods on one side and wetlands on the other only separated from the channel by rotting tree stakes poking out of the still water. There were further streams cutting off and on one occasion it was very difficult to know which way to turn as there was no signs but fortunately on rounding the bend a lone pecheur in a small punt waved and confirmed I was ok for the port. It was a spectacular reach and soon we were bordered by large etangs with signage advising of carp lake, tench lake, no kill in this lake, each was surrounded with little green igloos.

The port was charted as being just before the village on the stbd side. We spied the village and the large campsite on the port side. I also spotted a large 33 ft beneteau motor cruiser alongside the bank with 2 smaller craft tied alongside it on the port side. Comforting. I drifted past searching for a port. We came to the village slipway. 2 families were feeding the bleached white goose and a dozen ducks. I asked if the port was further on. Suddenly laughter and then waving arms and arrete Monsieur. I turned Doucette in her own length apparently just yards short of 1ft of water. We crept back past the line of seated fisherman whose surprised faces on our arrival and recent passing were now fully understood. An aged gentlemen came out, I asked him about the port. He pointed at the beneteau. C'est la Monsieur. The port was very well disguised with bushes growing out of the quay and climbing up the side of the beneteau. You have enough water here.

He was pointing at a gap between a long line of tiny dinghy 's and punts tethered to a disintegrating and overgrown wooden bank with tree stumps holding the bank in. Suddenly others arrived and after much fussing by the skipper we were safely moored and staked securely. Large hammers had been produced and a cordial welcome had been achieved.

Yet again it had been a short but memorable journey and I was delighted that we had made the decision to try it.

Late evening we strolled into the village. The elderly chap had advised us of a shoppy in the village. No surprise there I thought but it turned out to be the name of a supermarket chain. Interesting brainstorming at that inaugural meeting of the founders, I pondered. Found a cracking merlot though to enhance our evening BBQ of steak rabbit and spicy chicken thighs, potato wedges and collettes must have salad whilst admiring the view form the poop.

Weather a lovely sunny day for the most part.