7 locks, 9 kms, 2 1/2 hours
8 locks, 20 kms, 3 lift bridges, 5 hours
We stayed put the next day and it peed with rain which I was quite pleased about; it meant I wasn’t under pressure to do very much – a shame in a way though as there was a lovely lake to walk round. Neither I nor the dogs are very keen on walking in the rain but I did get a short walk there before we left in the morning.
Heading off downhill was going to be a doddle as the ‘start posts’ would be to the hand of the helm (at the rear of the lock) and would be nice dry (not manky) cords above ground. They would also be quick if they emptied at the same speed as they filled. Yeah, yeah! Here’s a picture of the manky cords that you have to yank on the way up – hard to tell blue cord from red.
1st lock the start post was right up the front, at the 2nd lock the start post was in the right place but the lock was on double red lights so we were joined by a lockie, at the 3rd lock we were joined by a second lockie. All the locks emptied at a snail’s pace but were perfectly manageable single handed – leaving one of us free to do something useful – although we had a double lockie escort all the way down. Crazy. Lock 6 had broken down so they did provide a purpose in the end. Moored at Blanzy we had to keep Daisy in overnight and it was a long walk to find somewhere to let Muttley off lead – the towpath all the way along this stretch has been replaced by a busy little road. G heroically went off on the electric bike and fetched coal blocks from the Brico at Monceau-les-Mines; how he lifted his rucksack, let alone cycled with it on his back, I’ll never know.
On leaving Blanzy we picked up a surfeit of VNF guys for the 2 locks down into Monceau where we encountered the first of three lift bridges with a pull cord lurking above the water – pulling it did us no good as the lights on the bridge were out. We lurked mid stream waiting for our VNF escort to turn up. They didn’t turn up. We ‘phoned all the numbers but, usual story, no-one answered (it wasn’t lunchtime). After nearly an hour, someone answered the phone and gabbled at us incomprehensively. Around 10 minutes after that a green light went on (no-one around) and up went the bridge, followed by the other two bridges at 10 minute intervals – it would seem that God is not the only one who moves in mysterious ways!
After that wasted hour we made good time and I was surprised how twisty the canal became along this stretch although the road barrier running all the way alongside made a good sat nav with chevron signs marking the really tight bends – stops you nodding off though; especially when it got a bit blustery too. The run in to Genelard goes through a deep cut which saves you a lock or 3 and provides good dog walking, a nice spot with a big history and we decided to take a day off there.
We awoke in the morning to heavy rain, but decided to go into town in search of lunch and some bits and bobs from the epicerie. We had a choice of 2 establishments – one of which was a non-starter as it’s offering of the day was andouillettes (can’t spell it} and frites. For those of you who have not yet experienced the horrors of these little monsters they are tripe sausages ….. yuk, yuk and thrice yuk!
The other option was busy, always a good sign, and we opted for the three course 13 euro menu with coffee and very good it was too. I rather like not having to choose my food (as long as it’s not tripe sausages) and, let’s face it, you don’t get a choice when you go to a friend’s house for dinner – you know it’s going to be fresh and the price is amazing. At the end of our meal we started chatting to a very elegant family; Joanne, Pierre and their son William, they run a local Estate Agency business and, on the spur of the moment, I invited William to come and see what a (filthy and untidy) narrowboat looked like – I’d have killed G if he had suggested it! Joanne then picked us up in the evening and drove us back to her lovely home which, originally, was a tannery on the upper floor and had been converted to a beautiful light and airy home situated between the River Bourbance (bottom of garden) and the Canal (front of the house). All of the previous French houses we’ve visited have consisted of small, dark rooms. I was fascinated to learn about house buying in France and that during the period of sale between (their equivalent of) exchange and completion, the Marie has a right to purchase the property over and above the potential purchaser – can you imagine agreeing to the purchase of a house and then your MP saying, “no you can’t buy it, I want it”. In fairness, Joanne says it’s only happened to a client of hers once in 15 years. We drank Champagne and Joanne sent us home with the rest of the bottle as she was going out to dinner later. Another lovely day.
