From molly_mockford@my-dejanews.com Sat Sep 25 17:18:36 1999
Date: Wed, 09 Sep 1998 11:46:43 GMT
From: molly_mockford@my-dejanews.com
Reply-To: canals@blacksheep.org
To: canals@blacksheep.org
Subject: Molly's Holi's - Part 5 and last - Trip Report

Wednesday 26th August

(Went nowhere.	Snipped account of Paul's health, visit by doctor who only
charged FF135 and came within ten minutes, rants against the electric fridge,
getting lost in the old town again, plans on how to get the boat back to the
boatyard single-handed.  Both feeling pretty depressed.)

Thursday 27th August

P claims to be rather better today (mind you, he's said that before, and at
first I believed it).  At 9:30 we crossed the canal to water, only to
discover that the watering-points were operated by tokens, with no hint as to
where to acquire them.	We will water somewhere else.  Went up the lock and
one or two more, sharing them all with a boatload of Swiss.  Very strange -
some of the locks were straight-sided instead of the oval ones we've got used
to, which made fitting more than two boats in much more difficult.  Passed a
Nautic hireboat with a Nautic van beside it - must be broken down.

The locks got deeper and deeper as we rose towards Beziers.  The last two had
vertical shiny poles set into the walls, which one loops a rope around
instead of hurling it up into the sky.	In the parts of the lock where they
didn't have these poles, they threw down lines for you to attach your ropes
to.  No matter how many people are on board (and some boats have 12 or more,
drinking and sunbathing) none of the lock-keepers seem to expect a member of
the crew to go up top, unlike the Rhone a Sete where Paul often went up.  The
deepest lock was 6.19 metres, and the stern rope was at full stretch.

Immediately after than lock came the aquaduct over the river Orb, after which
we reached Fonserannes and the foot of the six-lock flight with its
alternative water-slope.  We moored here and wandered up for a look.  The
staircase used to be seven locks, but the building of the aquaduct bypassed
the lowest one.  Unfortunately there wasn't time to go up the flight, because
it will be packed with people coming back down tomorrow to return their boats
to Port Cassafiere.

Back to the boat and returned to the deep lock, where we moored to wait for
the lock-keeper to come back from lunch at 1:30.  He eventually made his
appearance around 1:50 and told Paul that (we think) he hadn't been expecting
anybody until Fonserannes opened at 4:15.  He then enquired of me whether we
were being followed by a boatload of badgers.  I do wish he had spoken French
instead of English.  Watered at the bottom of this lock.

At the next lock, the keeper was grumpy and never even emerged from his
control cabin.	We had a little bit of rope confusion, and he started taking
us down before we were even both back on the boat.  At the next lock Paul got
in quite a tangle retrieving the bow rope, but there was nobody watching. 
(He is, after all, still very weak.)  The last lock, back at Villeneuve, we
did OK, then slipped into the first mooring on the right to tie up for the
evening.  Approach and everything seemed perfect, but I forgot the current
from the lock just behind us, which pushed us on an extra metre and a half
after I had (I thought) lost all way and put her in neutral and had hold of
the stern rope ready to throw.	So we touched the boat in front.  But not
hard, and no damage done.

(Snip of account of showering, dumping gash, searching in vain for cash
machines and reluctance of any financial establishments whatsoever to cash
Eurocheques.)

This is obviously not a wealthy town, but it -could- be if it got its act
together and exploited all the dozens and dozens of boats which can moor here
(mostly tied to plane trees).  One chap has set up a tiny shop by the lock,
with a little of this and a little of that.  The other day I bought his only
tin of carrots, and he never seems to have more than two dozen baguettes. 
But his prices are fair, and if he continues properly, in five years he
should be rich.  After all, the local "supermarket" closes from noon to
4:15p.m.!

As we finished our first jug of Pimms, we discussed the life of a lock-keeper
/ lock-keeping family.	Wistfully.

This morning I saw a French mother and her infant admiring the ducks.  "Les
canards!" said the mother.  "Quanque quanque quanque!"	I just hope her child
learns to say Quack instead before she comes to Britain.

(Snip other irrelevancies such as helicopters and a lovely dinner.)

Friday 28th August.

Astonishingly, this morning was cold.  The sun hadn't reach our boat yet, and
the cool wind was blowing straight into our stern.  Set off towards Agde in
search of a money machine.  Paul took us efficiently through what I guess
will be our last lock.	A very pleasant run.  The canal is lined with all
kinds of grasses, some 12 to 15 feet tall, including enough bamboo to start a
garden centre.	Fig trees everywhere, and wild plum trees (mirabelles?)  We
decided to stop at Vias, which is a kilometre or two from the canal but
provides moorings, in search of money.	Apart from the Vias moorings, it is
impossible to tie up anywhere else, because of hundreds of half-rotten wooden
piles at water-level height about a metre from the bank.  Presumably remnants
of an old, eroded bank, but I like to imagine French craftsmen carefully
installing them, just to annoy.  Beside our nice official moorings floated a
dead sheep.  Or goat.  Not sure which, and disinclined to inspect too
closely.

(Snipped account of visit to Vias, success at getting money, purchase of
several bottles of local Muscat.)

Returned to Port Cassafiere, where we moored stern-on after some effort,
because the strong wind on the port side blew the bow round, despite the fact
that we had both stern ropes on the bollards from the start - it would have
been perfect for alongside mooring!  But a bit of fore-and-afting and a
little ropework eventually pulled her round.  Thought about bringing the bow
rope down to the port bollard, but decided against it.	Besides, I've
flemished it.  No room anywhere to flemish the stern ropes, unfortunately.

And I guess I can snip the rest.  Thank you all for your patience!

Conclusions - a lovely holiday on two lovely canals, with a boat which never
went wrong (although the boatyard engineer looked extremely surprised when we
told him so).  I would recommend the area and the boatyard (Crown Blue Lines)
to anyone.  My only reservation was the loo, discharging direct into the
water, and only working when we were under way;  but it did have the
advantage that we didn't have to worry about where we could get a pumpout,
which is -never- available exactly half-way through a two week holiday!

--
Molly

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