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You may have read elsewhere about the challenges of cruising against strong currents and winds, and in cold weather.

You will also have noted that many places, particularly marinas, do not open until May, sometimes the middle of May. If there was someone to be found on the premises, they and/or their facilities were often not ready to receive visitors, especially fussy elderly English boaters.

Put simply, a month or two later would have seen rivers that were more benign, with fewer, warmer winds, and more facilities that were open, operating properly and ready for business.

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The Haines 320 is a fantastic boat but, in this spec at least, it is more of a sea-going summer play-thing than a fully-equipped inland waterways cruiser.

It is comfortable for a few people to stay on for short periods but our boat’s lack of heating and not fully-implemented shower arrangement meant that we were cold in the evenings and at also at night in the early days. Call us softies, but where we had no shore-power electricity (far too often) we didn’t enjoy standing up to wash in the almost-cold water in the morning!

We were therefore constantly on the lookout for electricity and decent shower facilities, when planning the voyage and when travelling. We were to be sadly disappointed on both fronts; power sockets were often missing and all but two of the showers that we did find were unacceptably poor. Two decent showers in 35 days! A properly equipped barge would of course avoid these problems.

The boat is arguably the prettiest we saw in the whole five weeks away, but she feels light and vulnerable, especially when in locks with novice boat-hirers and useless lock-keepers. In the huge river locks with just a single floating bollard to put a rope round, she was fine descending the Seine but it was quite a challenge to maintain full control when ascending some Rhone and Saone locks, especially if sharing with a monster commercial craft.

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Our experience confirmed what we’d gleaned from our research, that few private boaters choose to travel the Rhone and Saone up-stream, i.e. northwards, especially in the winter and spring. This is largely because of the potentially strong currents and risk of flooding (see info).

Added to that, moorings for pleasure boats are few and far between, particularly ones out of the stream and thus sheltered from floating debris and the wakes of passing barges. To get safely from one safe haven to the next generally necessitates making good speed against the stream.

With a craft that is happiest at say 6 knots, a 40-mile journey might take 5 hours (plus locks) going down-stream but 14 hours (plus locks) going up-stream, if there is a 3 knot stream running (it was certainly that fast or faster for some of our voyage). So it could take an awfully long time to reach your next safe haven – assuming it’s open and has space for you!

We had a fast boat, which made passage-planning feasible, but most people don’t have that luxury. Our second day on the Rhone saw us covering 54 miles at up to 12 knots over land, perhaps 15 knots through the water on some stretches. That was fine but we were consuming diesel at up to 35 litres per hour, which added another consideration to the planning process!

No wonder that we saw only one other private boat going our way, a local boat on the way to its home-berth on the Saone, we believe.

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2+ days, showery, warm, colder, hot, etc

To set the scene, our final destination Port Pinche is not a port but just eight riverside properties a few hundred metres from Porte de Seine, itself only a few dozen houses with a church but no shops. Val de Rueil, with its shops and main-line station, is 3 miles away.

7 May: By the time we are ready for our supermarket breakfast, as we know there is no boulangerie within walking distance, Yves has arrived with croissants, pains au chocolat, a French stick and a large loaf!

Our mooring is as good as we can make it in the shallow water and we are pleased to discover that the main channel upstream has recently been shifted to the other side of the adjacent island, so the barges we had expected to be coming right past us won’t be. Or so we imagine. It isn’t long before one does come past though, but it is the only one we see doing that all weekend.

Following a great breakfast, Yves’ son Julien comes to see us and offers to take us to the station to buy our tickets to Paris. He is, like his dad, a really nice guy and his English is probably about as good as our French, i.e. not very, but better than Yves’ English which is augmented with many facial expression and gestures – charmingly French. Later, Julien prints off our Easyjet boarding passes and confirms he’ll take us to the station on Monday morning. It’s so good to have all that sorted out.

Yves’ Covid is not holding him back and he ‘attends’ an on-board round of bubbly by standing on the bank sheltering from the rain under an umbrella. When the shower eases, he insists on cooking an al fresco supper for us all, and jolly good it is too!

We enjoy a lovely friendly evening, mitigating the effects of the language gap with additional wine. Their super Jack Russell, Maya, also has a great time and picks Richard as her favourite, and vice versa.

8 May: A dull and cold morning is relieved by Yves arriving with another basket full of breakfast! We busy ourselves with some tidying and cleaning and the sun finally appears around lunchtime.

Full of bon homie despite Covid (symptomless thank goodness), Yves pops down to the boat to ask what food we’d prefer him to barbeque later on. We choose the skewered chicken and fantastic it proves to be, supplemented with further courses both before and after the main dish. And wine. No tea required later on, just packing.

9 May:

After breakfast we take a final appreciative look down-river then cram ourselves and all our luggage into Julien’s Clio (not much easier than Howard’s Yaris, surprisingly) and it’s off to the station.

Despite Covid raising its ugly head, we have thoroughly enjoyed our weekend with the amazingly hospitable Yves and Julien. Merci mille fois, Messieurs!!

The journey home goes well enough but not without some drawbacks.

Our first-class rail tickets don’t allow us to sit together in the crowded carriage or provide any free luggage space – and we have a lot of luggage. Eventually Colin sits in a second-class seat opposite our bags, thankful that nobody attempts to sit opposite him (no legroom!) or complains about the folding seats we are obstructing.

The fixed-rate taxi ride out to Charles de Gaulle is a highlight. The driver is simply outstanding, guiding us smoothly round empty Paris back-streets then gliding seamlessly and safely down the autoroute, always in the right lane at the right time.

Our airport experience is less happy. After an inferior bread-roll lunch and much queueing, we walk (Marie limps) to the designated boarding gate. We can’t help noticing a distinct lack of aeroplanes. After a while, we are directed to an adjacent gate, similarly plane-less but not painless. A few minutes before our scheduled departure time, and with the electronic board still saying ‘on time’, two planes taxi in and start disgorging their passengers.

Our late take-off means we will not make our preferred non-stop train to Teignmouth but will instead have to lug our bags around Exeter station and wait further for a local train. Oh so that’s why it’s called luggage! Generously, Richard’s son-in-law drives out to Exeter to collect us. Thanks Pete!

Story ends.

Overall voyage totals
1180 km – 738 ml – 184 locks – 168 hrs

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3 days, sunny, cold wind am, very warm last day
196 km – 123 ml – 7 locks – 18 hrs

4 May: Our morning cruise through Paris is excellent, although we are unable to name many of the magnificent buildings.

Not long after this picture is taken, our brilliant AIS system stops working. No longer can we see all the other moving boats on our screen together with their heading and speed. It is surprising how quickly you come to rely on this info in a crowded reach and its sudden absence comes as a blow. Switching it completely off then on again after a suitable pause does the trick. A good old-fashoined cold-boot! Not long afterwards, it fails again, fortunately with the same outcome.

We need no help to recognise the Eiffel Tower, the sheer scale of which is emphasised by the sky-scrapers nearby.

As we continue down-stream, we are again met with both beauty and incongruous ugliness in the shape of industrial sites.

Our interesting day-trip ends at Conflans-St-Honorine, an attractive waterside town with a marina (some floating pontoons) a little exposed to river traffic. As if to make this point clear soon after we tie up, a laden barge comes barging upstream at high speed, not more than 25 metres away from us, and nearly washes Allons-Y onto the pontoon. Still, it helps to demonstrate that we are well tied and fendered up.

As for the marina, the expected facilities are, once again, non-existent. The service points are completely derelict and, although the pontoons themselves are reasonable, a lot of detritus has collected against them, including an enormous and smelly decaying fish. Colin spends an hour heaving weed, tree-branches and dead fish out into the stream and pulling other rubbish up onto the pontoon, and we resign ourselves to another night without electricity or a water tap.

The good news is that, while searching for tomorrow’s boulangerie (which he finds – good man), Richard also locates a bar-restaurant, where a quiet drink develops into a really nice supper.

5 May:

There is a small comotion in the night (not that Richard notices) which reveals itself in the morning to have been a hotel boat mooring up. Considering that it is 360ft long (some are 400ft!), they did well not to make more noise.

After croissants and coffee, we continue today’s short run down the Seine in moderate river traffic at first, and with more interesting sights and sites to be seen.

For our final night en route, we have chosen Port Ilon which is in a quiet lake like a Norfolk broad, complete with steady wind. We top-up the diesel tanks successfully, albeit at a pretty outrageous 2.37 euros per litre, hoping it will be enough to get Howard and crew back to the UK. We are also pleased to note that all the publicised services are present!

This is another marina with many characterful boats, and none the worse for that. Also reminiscent of a Norfolk broad, we go to sleep to the sound of the wind-driven wavelets lapping on the side of the hull.

6 May: The final day of our journey dawns dry and sunny – in fact we haven’t seen any rain for a couple of weeks now. The river is quiet, with just three or four barges coming upstream, and is still as pretty as ever.

Today is turning into a bit of a jaunt as we follow the line of this chalk ridge for mile after mile, adding to the scenic interest.

Our two locks today are, however, not suited to small pleasure boats, with recesses along the lock-sides big enough to swallow even large fenders. This issue has been well documented and, as we don’t have a suitable plank to fender against, we adopt the approach of holding the boat in with a rope in one hand while keeping it from touching the lock-side with a boat-hook in the other hand. Fortunately we were descending quite slowly and this worked very nicely – well done, crew!

Talking of unfriendly, the final lock-keeper acknowledges our VHF call with a grunt then answers the polite enquiry: “Parlez vous Anglais s’il vous plait” with “Non!”. When asked for directions, also in polite French (there are three locks spanning the river) he answers: “Droit!”. Perhaps he is a descendent of De Gaulle, or doesn’t like the English, or just doesn’t like being woken up in the middle of a very quiet afternoon. We smile to ourselves but don’t say thank you. Shame on us.

We arrive at Yves’ picturesque dock at 1630 as forecast and plan to moor behind his pretty little boat. Oops, we find that it is too shallow here and have to edge up behind his boat to get most of Allons-Y in to the side.

And here is Yves in person – and promptly announces that he has just tested positive for Covid! He seems well and is very cheerful but we are already seeing our expectations dashed of getting to know him or of being driven to the shops and the train-station on Monday morning. Doh…

Final tally
1180 km – 738 ml – 184 locks – 168 hrs

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1 day, warm am, quite hot pm

3 May: Our schedule dictates just a single full day in the city, and Marie’s knee also dictates that we won’t be able to stride all round Paris as we did many years ago. Oh well, we’ll just have to make the most of it.

We decide to take the Metro to Montmartre and have a gentle stroll (limp) towards Sacre Coeur, and are amazed to see even more eateries here than we remember.

We choose one in the shade, since it is now pretty hot in the sun, and are not disappointed, either in the people-watching or the food.

The litle funicular train up to Sacre Coeur is very handy under the circumstances and we find the basilica to be as awesome as ever, both outside…

… and inside.

The view from the steps across Paris is also pretty special, even if we have cheated a bit by not walking up there.

Returning to the boat, we enjoy some pastries that l’homme de pain has kindly gone out for and, a little later, consume fromages and vin rouge to round off a nice day.

Progress so far
984 km – 615 ml – 177 locks – ?? hrs

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3 days, variable am, warm to hot pm, windy
87 km – 54 ml – 8 locks – 10 hrs

30 April: After breakfast, we wait for yesterday’s helpful translator from the marina to call ahead for us again. He is a little late and is informed that Port de Seine Ecole has no spaces left. The irony is that we chose this place partly because the guide said good English was spoken! So we switch our hopes to Port aux Cerises at nearby Draveil, with a positive result (and no translator).

On our first day cruising down the Seine, we encounter a lovely river…

… and quite a lot of commercial traffic. Some of the newer pushers and barges have their cockpit on a hydraulic lift so that, approaching a bridge, they can press the down-button and sink to deck level until they’re through. Presumably driving blind for a short distance is fine!

Port aux Cerises turns out to be excellent, with friendly staff (no English but willing to make an effort to understand our French) and many big, old, interesting boats. Plus, all services are there and working, ideal for an enforced holiday weekend.

1 May:

After a bout of boat cleaning inside and out, we are rewarded with a superb Sunday lunch in the Gibralter, the most expensive meal of our voyage. Amusingly, when Colin asks for an Americano after desserts, he is brought a cocktail of that name instead of a coffee! It’s great that so much of France hasn’t been americanised yet, and no wonder the young waitress raised her eyebrows when taking the order.

The Seine is proving to be at least as varied as our previous waterways, with these flats enjoying much nicer views than the one they are providing for the rest of us.

2 May:

Now the holiday is over, we head down-river for Paris. Like many other places in France, notably Lyon, there is graffiti everywhere.

In Paris, we had managed to book in for two nights at Port d’Arsenal marina, adjacent to Place de Bastille and almost in the centre of the city. Hang the expense!

Getting into the marina provides us with quite a long wait outside its entrance lock, trying not to get in the way of all the Seine traffic, then a rather frantic lock-filling event once inside. We then spend some more time trying to find our allocated mooring, only to discover that (the French equivalent of) “before the bridge on your left” actually meant “after the bridge on your right”. Plus ca change, deja vu, etc.

As Marie’s knee is still very painful, we indulge in a drink at a noisy road-side bar close to the monument (it’s rush-hour) then migrate two doors along to eat a surprisingly good-value meal.

When we return, we reckon the marina at night is even more attractive than during the day. We are intrigued though at the amazing number of emergency vehicle sirens making themselves known all around us right into the small hours. Little do we know of the row brewing right here, following the French election.

Progress so far
984 km – 615 ml – 177 locks – 150 hrs

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2.4 days, variable am, warm to hot pm, windy
52 km – 33 ml – 20 locks – 12 hrs

27 April (pm): There is no suitable mooring at Cepoy, today’s second-choice destination, so we motor on towards Nargis.

On the Loing, boaters are given a remote control to operate the locks. Ours is a bit slow to work at first but after that it is great, starting the locking sequence from 200 metres away or more. It is nice not to be reliant on lock-keepers all the time and the whole operation works well and very reliably too.

Or so we imagine.

Having entered our last lock of the day, the bottom gates simply don’t open. We are trapped in the lock. Ideas anyone? From on deck, we spot an intercom by the notice board and Colin manages to clamber up from Allons-Y‘s roof to the lock-side and make contact. The gates start to open so Colin climbs back down, only for the gates immediately to close again! Another mountaineering visit to the intercom and the gates start opening once more. Colin leaves the remote voice still talking to him and hurries back on board. We start up and leave the lock on the crest of our own bow-wave, before it changes its mind again. Another little pantomime. Is it us, or will lots of people be entertained like this over the summer?

Having reached Nargis, again without seeing another boat moving in any direction all day, we have to moor against another small layby pontoon, made difficult this time by a strong offshore wind. Marie twists her knee again hauling on the bow-rope, under pressure from an unreasoning skipper (sorry!). No sign of a restaurant but at least l’homme de pain locates a boulangerie, yet again.

28 April: Today we are looking forward to visiting Nemours with the smart and fully serviced quay pictured in the guides.

When we reach it, we discover that it is rather tatty and, in any case, fully occupied by live-aboard barges. The guides are clearly several years out of date here.

We potter up and down in vain looking for a suitable spot then retrace our steps to find a pretty stopping place against a wall that is just low enough for us to climb out onto the bank. Driving the pins into the firm bank with Howard’s domestic-sized hammer was a bit of a blow though. Quite a lot of blows in fact.

The water here is incredibly clear, for some reason, and we can see exactly what the propellor has been cutting through.

Marie’s knee is pretty bad so Richard and Colin go searching for the nearest acceptable eatery. An Italian is found, which is limped painfully to and from, but it provides the most mediocre meal of our adventure so far. Not worth the discomfort.

Although the water is clear, there is still plenty of muck on the surface in places. This flotilla is seen just along from our mooring place, on the way into town.

29 April: Today is our last on the canals, with a gentle run down to the Seine in prospect.

We find a nice quiet location for a leisurely lunch and are surprised when two large barges come past, each with its unladen bow seemingly higher than the steerer’s head!

Approaching the Seine in the afternoon, we come to Moret-sur-Loing, whose marina is co-managed with the one at St Mammes on the Seine, just a mile or so down the canal. The canal here is lined on both sides with live-aboard barges.

We are offered a mooring at Moret rafted up to another boat but instead opt for an empty pontoon at St Mammes, hoping that the barge wash won’t be too bad (which it isn’t). A really nice young guy whizzes round from Moret to welcome us. Not only that, he offers to speak to the marina staff at our preferred next port of call, as they speak no English and we are struggling to make our request understood. We needed two nights there because everything, even the River Seine, is closed on Sunday 1 May! A long and rather cheerful conversation ends with “They don’t do reservations, you’ll have to call again in the morning”.

At this point, we pop over the river to the fuelling point directly opposite. It is a demolition site, with the pleasure-boat pump almost out of sight and inaccessible. Their main business of course is the barges, who have massive facilities of their own. Colin doesn’t bother to ask the price, reasoning that we must get fuel by Paris anyway and out here at St Mammes would be cheaper than in Paris. Or so he imagines. It was virtual robbery, at 2.81 euros per litre! The fat, grubby little crook knew exactly what he was doing and just grinned and shrugged at Colin’s look of disgust. More insouciance? No, this was a deliberate, rather than unconscious, exploitation of unwary private boaters.

Not a great introduction to the famous river, but c’est la guerre.

Progress so far
897 km – 561 ml – 169 locks – 140 hrs

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4.6 days, cool & damp then brighter, cold wind
52 km – 32 ml – 32 locks – 14 hrs

23 April:

Today, Saturday, is our rest day in Briare, a chance to explore this lovely small town, use the launderette and find some good places to eat for later on, with a little advice from Peter and Sara, our new neighbours.

After last night’s excellent meal in the friendly San Trop restaurant and another place already lined up for tonight, we decide to make a weekend of it and book in at the San Trop again for Sunday lunch tomorrow. Hang the expense!

24 April: Peter and Sara are such a nice couple; they drive us to the supermarket and even bring a very decent bottle with them when invited across for afternoon drinks.

25 April: We had intended to refuel here on departure but, when the occasionally-present marina manager states the price and demands cash (his card machine had been out of action for a suspiciously long time, apparently), we decide not to reward him with 400 of our remaining stash of notes. We can fill up when we reach the Seine at St Mammes.

It is cool and drizzly but our day is brightened by the very nice young lock-keeper who looks after us for all of our 11 up-locks. The subsequent 6 down-locks are negotiated without problems.

We find the ‘marina’ we were aiming for at Rogny but it is in truth just a nice little cul-de-sac with a slightly tatty quay, but with electricity and a working water tap. The locked office has the opening hours on the window but, as is becoming the norm, nobody is there. Ten minutes before closing time, a lady arrives in her shopping-filled hatchback and takes our money, by which time Richard has located a boulangerie for tomorrow’s breakfast.

26 April:

We find a good spot for lunch at Chatillon-Coligny, with a motor museum just a walk away. Unfortunately the bistro of choice is full so we console ourselves with some posh tarts from a patisserie. Colin and Richard enjoy the museum, pretty much on their own, and it is only 5 euros each.

Leaving mid-afternoon, we get stuck at the first lock and have to raft up to a small ‘bumper boat’ at the layby. This is the only viable place to get ashore, despite the chart showing moorings here. We do eventually spot one large bollard in the waist-high cow-parsley nearby but it isn’t viable. A call to VNF results in a lock-keeper attending and seeing us through the last two, deep, locks of the day, to our destination of Montbouy. Tuna lasagne tonight from the fridge.

27 April (am):

We had been warned that Montargis was ‘closed’ for a major a canal-side upgrade but we find a reasonable spot for lunch, albeit needing extra fenders to protect the hull from the sloping canal-side rocks. The town is slightly Venice-like with a number of small, but probably unnavigable, waterways running through it. Our mooring is no good for an overnight stop, so we head on for Cepoy on the Canal du Loing, the start of which is at Buges, not far from where we are.

Before we progress from the Briare to the Loing, it is worth mentioning another of the stark contrasts we are coming across in France, namely the variations in outlook from the boat. We are seeing flat, open plains, heavily forested areas, attractive villages and towns and large, ugly industrial sites. Most of the latter seem to be in a run-down state and some of them are clearly derelict. It will be interesting to see if this is still the case when we reach the majestic River Seine.

Progress so far
845 km – 528 ml – 149 locks – 128 hrs

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5.7 days, dry & warm to hot & windy pm, hazy later
203 km – 127 ml – 41 locks – 37 hrs

17 April (pm): Today we move onto the Canal Lateral a la Loire, and share several locks with some first-day hire-boaters who have clearly been given no instruction at all and are, understandably, clueless. Howard calls them bumper boats for good reason. Colin won’t easily forget the sight of a middle-aged Spanish guy on the large cruiser behind us prodding it away from the slippery lock wall with a boat-hook then literally running across the cabin roof in order to save it from touching the other wall – caused by him pushing it that way in the first place. Back and forth he runs, never was there anything quite so dangerous in a lock. He doesn’t seem to realise that if he just stops, everything will be fine! And his skipper, back up on the flybridge, interprets Colin’s ‘take it easy’ gesture as a request for him to whack it into reverse and head for the top gates backwards. Oh mon dieu moi.

The two lock-keepers here are absolutely useless too, cramming us all in tight but offering not a word of advice and allowing the hirers to ‘attach’ their boats with, for example, a single rope from the bow looped over some hand-rails. No wonder the boats are all over the place and threatening to collide with ours. And they are bigger than us. Sorry, no pictures were taken of this pantomime as we are too busy preventing the others from bumping into us or getting caught up on the lock-gates. Then, amazingly, the keepers prematurely unloop everyones ropes and throw them down onto our decks before we’re all the way down. More chaos. C’est la vie.

The lockies back on the Canal du Centre were helpful, and generally very nice too, as well as letting us manage our own boat.

When we reach our planned stop at Diou, we are disappointed (again) to find the water supply has been capped off. However, Richard does find a good boulangerie for tomorrow morning.

18 April: Easter Monday. Reinforced with croissants etc and now clear of the hirers, we make good progress, partly because the locks are farther apart on this canal. We are also blessed for 4 locks with a lock-keeper who is friendly and helpful and speaks good English. Followed by another one for the next stretch! One more stark contrast, compared with the previous lot, in a growing series of contrasts this trip.

We have to take care that the flotsam doesn’t jam the stern thruster or clog the strainer but it clearly doesn’t impede fish growth.

During the lock-keepers’ lunch-time, we stop for a sunny snack by some camper-vans, having manoeuvered round several large fishing poles. A lock-keeper had assured us that the boats have priority; after all, the boat owners pay a large licence fee. But we don’t want to upset what remains of the post-Brexit entente cordiale do we? We are rewarded when someone lands a big fish. believing it to be a carp, it comes as a surprise when one of the gathered children hands dad a piece of wood for him to whack it hard on the head and cart it off, presumably to be eaten later. We are pleased to be able to fill the water tank here too.

As we leave, Colin suddenly hits reverse gear for an emergency stop, spotting a barely visible fishing-line running across our bow from a rod that was sitting 20 metres back from the river. Thank goodness for cataract operations. Its owner proceeds rather gracelessly to shift it out of the way. Not quite so cordiale in fact.

At our overnight stay at Gannay-sur-Loire, we find a village quay with water, electricity, cut grass and well-spaced bollards. That’s a first in this trip, after a fortnight’s voyaging. Next to us is a couple fitting out an ancient Dawncraft by the side of the canal. Language is a problem but they are keen to offer Colin a guided tour. Allons-Y it is not, but jolly good luck to them! It has been a really nice day.

19 April: Another lovely morning and a pleasantly uneventful cruise in the sun today, marred slightly by seeing some dead animals in the cut from time to time. They varied from coypu to small deer and possibly badgers. Presumably they have jumped or fallen into the water and couldn’t climb the mostly shuttered banks to safety. Sad.

Our stopping place is another super mooring near to a small village which has invested a lot of time and money in facilities for boaters (and a few camper vans, in season).

Puzzled at how to make the smart-looking quayside water and electricity point work, we discover up on the road the most sophisticated hook-up system ever! Multi-lingual, it invites you to select and pay (by card or cash) for the service and location you want, then switches it on for 24 hours, indicated by a telltale light next to the selected tap or plug socket. Fantastic. This should be a model for other places wanting to attract boaters and/or campers, not only in France but anywhere including the UK. If they can do it here, so can others.

There is no trace of the signposted, but only half-expected, restaurant, not even a building site. A casualty of Covid perhaps, but why leave the signs up? Never mind, Marie’s ham omelettes go down extremely well. And a young guy is running a boulangerie just up the road in the village, ready for tomorrow’s breakfast, courtesy of l’homme de pain. We could cope with more of this..

20 April: Another nice, slightly hazier, day for a cruise, and we are seeing seeing more dead carcasses as well as several boats coming the other way.

Having failed to book ahead to cross the impressive Guetin aquaduct, we have to wait half an hour for someone to let us through. Not a problem as we have longer to enjoy the view of the River Allier far below us.

Although there is plenty of weed in the cut, we have seen a couple of lock-keepers heaving it out of the water with long hay-forks.

We are also pleased to see that animal escape ramps have been installed quite frequently along the canal sides from this point on, after which we notice significantly fewer dead animals.

After a longer but stress-free day, we pull up at Cours-les-Barres, a village with another excellent canal-side quay, albeit with a shortage of mooring bollards. We are grateful when offered a proper lump-hammer to bash a mooring pin into the hard ground, but slightly embarrassed that it is a German chap on a bumper boat who is clearly taking pity on the poor English boaters who don’t know how to equip their sea-going boat properly for a canal journey. Anyway, thanks.

We enjoy our first meal out for 4 days as the only diners in the village bar-restaurant. Not fine dining but very acceptable. We’re amused to see such an impressive Mairie (town hall), which are so common over here, although we don’t try the shower and toilet, which are in a rather smelly and fly-ridden brick out-house.

21 April: The day dawns bright and we can’t help admire the outlook from the breakfast table.

We make good progress to our chosen stop-over at St Tibault, which looked attractive in the guides…

… but we are so saddened to find a semi-derelict cul-de-sac with jagged banks, no sign of the capitainery office and now home to some semi-derelict and wholly-derelict barges. What a let-down, and such a contrast (another contrast) from recent days. We search up and down the canal, eventually finding a lock-layby pontoon half the length of Allons-Y to tie up to for the night, fully two hours after not stopping at St Tibault. So no facilities once more, and eating on board again too.

22 April:

Yet another fine day and we stop at a pretty quay next to a road-side cafe-restaurant for a panini lunch before pushing on towards our destination, and the end of this canal, at Briare.

Approaching Briare, we cross the fabulous historic Briare Aquaduct. At 663m, this was apparently the longest canal aquaduct in the world until recently.

Finally, reversing into our allocated berth in Briare, the couple in the adjacent rather smart Stevens steel cruiser offer to take our lines: “Hang on, I know that boat, it belongs to – what’s his name – Howard!”. Such a lovely couple, a huge concidence and a very suitable end to an enjoyable cruise along the Canal Lateral a la Loire.

Progress so far
793 km – 496 ml – 117 locks – 114 hrs

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