The canals are over, long live the rivers.

The Lock fest meant that we only had 16 more locks before Chagny. Very pleased with the old girl as she is coping well with the slow runs, all the locks and the mucky water. I have to check her strainer every day and gave her a 500 mile oil and filter change at Auxerre. 

Quite low maintenance for a girl!

Jumping on and off at locks mean her hull and topsides get mucky and need a brush down regularly. Caro has perfected the running around closing hatches when she sees me reaching for my hose. We don't want any wet beds again.

We finally reached Chagny at 17:20 on Saturday, we came round a corner and saw all brand new docks laid out.

But no other boats at all. It seemed a bit deserted. Poor old Hermy, all alone. Note the high security fence,or rather gate. Several young lads jumped across to the docks to go fishing during the evening.

We think we found out why it wasn't popular as we became aware of a phone type ringing in the back ground which seemed to be coming from the tile factory behind but it went on all night. Probably the roof tile help line.

Still Chagny was alive and kicking. It had a Sunday market so we went expecting the usual four or five stalls but it was fantastic, nearly all the town centre was taken up by stalls of all kinds and it was really busy.

A real French market with live chickens for sale.

My idea of a coup on the foredeck fell on stoney ground but we did however buy 2 huge tuna steaks for tea which were lovely.

Sunday afternoon and we decided to hit some locks to make our trip to Chalon Sur Soane easy. Nine automatic locks to Fragnes a small village 12 kilometres along the canal. 

We have to say that we started to take to the auto locks after our initial rant about them and we got to the stage where we didn't like lock keepers interfering with our process towards the end telling us which bollards to use, not letting us pull the string and releasing our lines before we were ready.

We arrived at Fragness early in the evening and it was throbbing. We felt we must have turned a corner and that France came alive the further South you went. In fact Fragnes was just closing down a Sunday fete and the lovely canal side restaurant was closed Sunday and Monday. Did they know we were coming?

The old girl with the er old girl!

Fragnes had a strange old thing in the centre of the village. A twix to any old engineer who can say what it is used for?

An early start (9:30 ish) on Monday takes us down the last part of the Canal Central and into the deepest lock so far.

A ten metre drop takes us to the link with the river Soane and a couple of miles down takes us into the pretty and thriving town of Chalon Sur Soane where we will leave Hermy for a week while we go home and do some home jobs. It's like going on holiday from your holiday!

 A return to wide rivers and the autohelm. Lovely. 

Chalon marks the end of the canal system after 800 nautical miles, so far, from Gillingham and 239 locks.

Automatic is not progress!

It's bloody wonderful isn't it. Computers were hailed as the greatest thing yet. My working career was spent yelling at them. How often did computer people tell you how great everything would be when a computer system was installed only to find that it couldn't do half the things it promised and the slightest human error sent it into a nose dive. And I can introduce human error to any system. Well locks are no different. Despite them having to have lunch they are temperamental about how long you pull their cord for. I suppose we all are to a certain extent but this has been hard work.

 Leaving Decize the Lateral A La Loire mostly had nice old fashioned locks with a young student working the summer, very pleasant and worthy of the odd Twix bar. 

Our first destination was a small village called Garnet Sur Engrievre. One sticky out pontoon and a village that would probably have a lot of artists in it.

Well it didn't. Slightly up market place with a thriving Patisserie. Lovely.

So armed with a baguette we moved on the next morning making our way to Digoin. The end of the Lateral and the beginning of the Canal Central. 

A slight shock occurred just leaving the lock at Besbre. We heard some pleasant bell ringing and saw an old man in a slightly strange canal side garden so we waved as usual. He came out of his garden with his bell and -- his dingaling only just covered by a net. Well, such a laugh I forgot to get a picture.

Digoin was a pleasant lively town with a nice pottery museum and a fantastic aqueduct over the Loire.

Oh and a Leclerc. The Intermarche had closed down and we needed gas , oh and a bloody sun umbrella. Well we got both and Caro was once more complete.

So now fully equipped we moved on. We decided to do as many locks as we could as we were running a little late and wanted to take a week out to go back home and sort a few things. 

The first lock out of Digoin was a little confusing we entered and tied up and waited around for a while not knowing what was happening when two lady cyclists turned up and found an old lady who walked up to a post and pulled a blue cord. The lock sprung in to action, closed, filled up and let us go on our way. Brilliant. This will be much quicker. Notice how the blue cord is now hidden in a post.

Not quite as fast as we thought. We entered the next four locks and the blue cord didn't spring anything in to action. There are no instructions should this happen, just a blue cord and a red cord for emergencies. Don't have an emergency in a French automatic lock because nothing happens if you pull the red one.

There was however a red button for emergencies manned by a rude woman who didn't like it if your French wasn't up to scratch. Mine wasn't but in their defence they sorted us out every time. 

We slowly learnt that some locks liked to be pulled and held  for five seconds. Some didn't like it if you pulled too soon and some didn't like it if you entered the lock too soon despite their lights not working.

As a result we didn't make our destination of Genelard as automatic Lock 18 at Thieley knocked off early at 1845 rather than 1900 but had a pleasant evening just outside.

This was when we realised that Caro's sun umbrella was in fact brighter than the sun.

We had a much more pleasant experience of automatic approaching Montceau Les Mines with their automatic lifting bridges.

A small thriving town based on a history of mining. Very hot and sunny. Just like Barnsley!

Our exit from Montceau started badly when at the first auto lock Caro jumped ashore and pulled the blue cord  only to be met by a mad old French lady who told her she cannot do that and we had to wait until a boat came the other way. 

This left us a little puzzled as we often didn't see any boats coming the other way for hours, then a floating prefabricated hut turned up behind us with a nice French couple on. We told them that Godzilla had told us to piss off and they made a phone call. Strangely the lock opened.

We let them go first as usual but I was a little worried about sticking my new anchor through his French windows.

We shared a number of locks with Grenadine the 'Hut' which was a work in progress by this young couple who were moving it back towards Strassbourg to finish it. They stopped at Montchanin and we decided to have a lock festival and make towards St Julien sur Dhuene. 

We made it and parked up behind a large hotel boat called 'Finesse' full of Americans being sailed up the French canals by the English. Upmarket little village no patisserie but a rather odd bell ringer who clanged away intermittently. I didn't go to check it out as he may have been related to the bell ringer at Besbre lock.

Nearing the end of the Canal Central. Very pretty.

Never say Nivernais again.

Having recovered fully from my fall off the boat. we began to ask around about Baye and quickly learnt that there wasn't much here. The shop turned out to be a lady's  front room that had sold out of most things. Luckily not beer. There was a restaurant about 2 k away. And, a shower that cost two Euros for 7 minutes. These of course were French minutes that lasted for 4 minutes.

We climbed over some rocks and slipped into the warm water. Didn't get that refreshed feeling but not too unpleasant.

Food wise we were rescued by this guy.

Who turned up in a real meat wagon. This moment also saw us venture back in to the sausage world.

It was now time to finish off the Nivernais with our last jaunt to Decize. The junction of the Nivernais and the Lateral a La Loire canal.

This section of the canal is very rural and here we were seen as a main attraction by the locals.

With one trying out a cruise down the Nivernais herself. Don't worry she did get out.

First stop was Chatillon En Bazois. Some young Germans on a Locaboat we had bumped in to earlier gave us a wave as we crossed paths again and told us that we were in for a treat here as there was a rock concert in the port that night. I asked if it would finish by bedtime about 9:30 but they were unsure. It didn't.

Bleary eyed we set off to Pannecot which looked promising in the Carte fluvial and had what appeared to be a lovely restaurant beside the harbour but of course it was Thursday so it was closed for the day. Also no shop.

Early-ish start the next morning stopping for a quiet lunch beside the canal.

 Then near collision as we enter a tight bend at Cercy La Tour.

I was admiring this bridge on a bend and taking a photo of it when, as you can just see, another boat was doing the same coming the other way. Lots of hard reversing just got us out of it and there were no collisions although Mrs Kilbride ended up jumping ashore to prevent us reversing in to a concrete dock. She never said a word.

Cercy was nice but slightly abandoned. The Notre Dame of the Nivernais watched over the place but not much was going on.

Never did find the Tower.

Decize was the next stop as we had to pick up a package of supplies from England from the post office. We cycled in to town to find it but walked around for an hour without any luck. Of course until we returned to where we had locked the bikes up initially.

Right outside the bloody post office!

We stayed a few days and toured the one way system on our bikes a couple of times enjoying our /my inability to navigate.

After a tiring day cycling around Decize we returned to the boat and started to put them back on deck. Now the trouble with wives is they start to get a bit obsessive about their water home, Always trying to add things. There comes a point in a man's life when he has to say enough is enough.

Now Caro had had a few phases about things like fans, umbrellas, barbecues and now she had started on about sun umbrellas. She had noticed a garden centre on our circular tour of the one way system and said shall we go back and look? Well I put my foot down. No we must ready the boat we should have thought about that as we passed it, no definitely not. 

I busied myself doing important things like filling up the water tanks during which I noticed, when I turned the tap on, that our fabric, non sprinkler, hose wasn't letting water out but was bulging about a metre from the tap. I looked at it and thought a prod was needed at which there was a loud crack and I was soaked.

So off to the garden centre we went. Alas hoses but no Sun umbrellas.

Entering Decize introduced a new dimension to locks in that we now came across our first automatic ones.

You sail up to the blue cord hanging from the gantry, pull it and wait for the lock to open then you go in tie up and it all happens automatically. Great.

Inside this lock was Decize Port  and to get out there was another auto lock. Great we could leave when it suited us. So at  12:30 on Monday we got ready to go and sailed up to the blue cord. Gave it a great big tug and sat there like a lemon. 

A nice French guy politely told us that it was lunch time. Even auto locks need lunch!

That was the end of the Nivernais and now we set off along the Canal Lateral A La Loire.

Sailing uphill is hard.

Without our gazelle like crew we embark on the Nivernais rise to Baye D'Etang, stopping off first at Chitry where we cycle to Corbigny and attend the biggest car boot sale in France. Then a stop  at Sardy the night before, to give us the strength to climb the 16 locks and three tunnels to Baye. The reward, we are told, is that you can swim at Baye and there is some civilisation. 

There was none at Sardy. Just some artists trying to make up for there being no patisserie or indeed any food outlet whatsoever.

But there was some nice pictures dotted around to soften the disappointment. I've taken a picture of a picture of a  bus stop inside a bus stop. Now that is art.

We noticed that the first of the flight of locks had a ladder on one side but no bollards on the same side.

As you see the ladder to climb out of the lock is on the left but the beautifully painted bollards are on the right making it a tad tricky for a shorthanded crew to get out and run round to tie on. To make it even more difficult a hire boat caught us up and we let it in first, as we had had a bad experience before being at the front, so we couldn't reach the ladder anyway. 

Luckily for us the lock keepers were helpful and the German family in the hire boat had an excellent ten year old son who was out like a shot and took our lines as well. He earnt himself a Twix for his efforts. 

However after the second lock we were told that there was a problem ahead and there would be a wait of an hour. This being a French hour it turned in to two and then incorporated lunch too, making a three our wait in a lock and prolonging the already long day. I felt that Mrs K was beginning to show some small signs of stress with the tell tale signs in looks that indicated that this was all my bloody fault. Although the lock cottagers were very pretty.

Note the overworked, single bollard.

The Tunnels capped it all. Hermy steers reasonably well but does like a bit of sea room to waggle about in. The Collancelle tunnels were about as wide as a London sewer and just as dark. Our decision not to splash out on a football ground floodlight lamp but plumb for a 13 candlepower Le Clerc childs camping torch might have been a mistake. Caro hung off the starboard beam  with our 12 Euro torch shouting helpful things like left, left, right no back! back! crunch - shit.

Here we are about to enter the first of three, the first is reasonably short but the last is over 700 metres.

We did make it to Baye relatively unscathed with Caro only making veiled threats to kill. Although very tired we were rewarded with this lovely scene to end our day.

However if you look closely between the last two fenders there a strategically placed ropes, some called  springs by sailors. They are designed to prevent the boat moving backwards or forwards. You will also notice their proximity to the recessed step.  As I got off the boat to go and pay for the night my trailing left foot managed to trap a rope between my heel and my sandal. 

There was some one legged hopping and yelping just to draw everyone's attention before my right leg realised the importance of a left leg and dumped me heavily on the ground with that unmistakable thud that can only come from an upended overweight, tired,54 year old. 

I lay there strangely contented listening to the stress drain out of my hysterically laughing wife while several concerned onlookers came to my assistance. A delightful end to a long day enjoying myself.

My Wife's a real man!

Well I have discovered that my wife is a real man! We have wifi. Not sure how, through something called 'tethering'. Bloody amazing. A great weight lifted from my inadequacies.

We ambled our way to Clamecy leaving Auxerre and Puddleduck behind having her brand new innards' put right. Bloody boat builders!

Cooling off at a lunch stop at Champs Sur Yonne. Very hot weather. Received complaints that Hermy didn't have a swim deck! She's not a bloody Locaboat you know!

If my grown up children see a net near water you can't stop them. Fishing is an instinct. No amount of Honours sciences or Masters titles can remove it. If there are fish they will be caught and placed in a bucket for all to see.

Caro makes good use of her time whilst onboard.

Knitting winter socks! We'll need those in the Med.

Jess and Joey cycle along the tow path to catch ropes at the next lock.

Being crew is a tough life things haven't changed much since Richard Henry Dana's day.

Caro showing off her pulling power.

Here she is single handedly lifting a bridge. No wonder I am obedient!

Having crew on board is really helpful. Something we could have done with later on.

Clamacy is an old town built around logging and floating them down to Paris for fuel. This is the reason why the canals around here exist, mainly to supply water to the shallowing  Yonne river and not to accommodate yachties making their way to the Med. This might explain some of the dodgy locks. Lack of bollards, ladders on the opposite sides to bollards.

Nice little town and we had a lovely Birthday meal with Jess and Joey again the French cuisine on the slightly disappointing side, maybe we are not doing it right, but we did get four for the price of three. I think this was something to do with happy hour. 

Jess introduced us to homemade guacamole and Joey introduced us to French Grenadine Sirop.

Both then introduced me to snap chat. 

Or rather snap twat in my case.

Hermione on the Yonne

Well building yourself up for slopy sided locks brings a certain tension. These later ones being modeled by my assistant have floating docks in but the earlier ones didn't.

On advice, from Nigel, we had filled a fender with water so that we had protection down below and in we went to Cannes lock the first of the slopey sided locks on the Yonne.

 The Lock keepers advice was good and he took a long rope. He was very friendly and only looked startled once when I used the telescopic boat hook to fend off the sloping wall only to discover they do exactly what they are designed to do and it telescoped. I only just managed to stay on the boat.

Head first on to a slopey sided lock would have resulted in me being the upside down sunken fender.

Anyway all went well and just before we left the nice lock keeper told us that Labrosse lock was closed and we had travelled as far as we could for the day, exactly 4 kilometres. 

So we stayed at the little village of Cannes Ecluse which has a lovely town hall with a nice little museum. Fantastic.

We saw that there were shops about 2 km away and of course fuel was on my mind. So we loaded up the Bromptons with our fuel tanks and set off. Well it was a busy main road and a difficult ride. The journey back with a teetering 30 litre load was pretty dodgy but we made it.

Arriving at Sens the first thing we notice is a garage right next to the Quay.

Notice the little black bollard cunningly disguised as a dockside bollard to which we initially tied up to because there was a lack of bollards around. A very nice French man came to us and advised us not to as these were designed to sink in to the ground, at the press of a button, to let the dustbin lorry through. Potentially embarrassing as you watch your boat drift off down the Yonne.

Sens is impressive, The Cathedral and museum, the best so far. Thomas Beckett was exiled here for 5 years before he felt safe enough to return to Britain and get murdered at Canterbury.

Napolean's Waterloo hat also made it here somehow. I can never find my bloody hat either.

Sens Cathedral light show was impressive and resulted in a late night on Puddle Duck being forced to drink red wine by Nicky and Gorette.

Villeneuve Sur Yonne saw an overnight stay. Pretty but mostly closed. Nice meal. Didn't have steak which has been quite disappointing in France. Not living up to their culinary expectations so far .

Next stop Joigny. Home of the Locaboat where hire boats are given to holiday makers so that they can entertain lock keepers and take the heat off us. Caro deftly rescued a lost boat hook for one of them.

Joigny followed the usual French format of slightly run down but impressive churches. Famous for the Maillotins uprising in 1438 using their coopers hammers to sort out the lord of the Chateau. 

St Vincent de Paul tutored the Counts children here. I'm not allowed  any references to Lindsey.

We stopped at the little village of Gurgy on the way to Auxerre and it was clearly open for business with a new dock, wine tasting by the dock, a restaurant, an open bakery and shop and a cafe with wifi. For a place with a population of 42 this was over and above. 

Thinking we might have turned a corner we cycled to Appoigny, the recommended village to visit, but that was clearly a reality check and we came back.

Arriving in Auxerre.

You could spend time here and despite the French railway system both children managed to arrive and join us. I treated them to a guided tour following in the steps of Cadet Rousell. They thoroughly enjoyed it.

Heading for Clemacy on Jess' birthday. What more could a 22 year old young lady ask for?

Hermione leaves the Seine

I'm sitting under a tree on the banks of the Yonne beside the Montereau Capitainerie in order to get Wifi. My good wife has been trying to sort out Wifi on the boat for nearly three months and has failed. It all came to a head this afternoon when I was told that, if I was a proper man I would be able to sort it out, If I knew more than just a bit about engines, not the bits that go wrong, then I would be of some use. 

I have to say I have been feeling slightly inadequate lately not least because I don't quite know too much about my navigational equipment. I had a conversation with Nicky from Puddleduck about my plotter which went like this:

I may be able to help you update your plotter what make is it?

Er a Raymarine I think

Yes but what model?

Ooh not sure, it has a big screen.

Is it an A or a C

Blank look

How old?

54

Not you, the Raymarine?

Ooh I don't know it came with the boat

When you start it up what does it say?

Nothing it just shows me charts.

I'll show you on mine. You see this it says version 17:45

I thought that was the clock.

So I have to confess I'm not a whizz with the electronomics. Still it is very pretty sitting here writing the blog.

Anyway I have got a bit ahead of myself. From Melun we make for Samois Sur Seine but there is no room at the dock so we travel a little further up stream to port Avon a nice little marina on the river.

From here we can cycle to Fontainebleu Chateau.

Fontainebleu Chateau is one of those places that everyone should visit it has everything from the table Napoleon signed his abdication at in 1814 to a Fountain depicting Diane the Huntress and,

in true French style,  four dogs taking a piss.

Having cycled the two miles up there from the Seine I understand the saddle soreness associated with this hunting retreat.

We managed a lovely barbecue this time overlooking the boat from the bank with no issues and no sausages of any kind.

Stayed at Port Avon for three days and chilled a bit, bought a new French hose that leaks every where. I was going to take it back but closer inspection showed an uncanny uniformity about the leaks. At this point Caro pointed out that I had bought a hose designed to irrigate a flower bed. Doh!

I did however manage to lose the push fitting nossle down in to the water tank. Pushed it in and it plopped off. Marvelous.

Next stop Montereau Fault Yonne where the Duke of Burgundy was murdered by the Dauphin King, or rather his mates, during peace talks in 1419. Sound clever don't I?  I think the Austrians may have got a kicking here also at some point.

That's it, the Seine is done we are now on the Yonne heading for Sens. Slightly worrying as they have slopy sided locks here just for a laugh.

Just so you didn't begin to think that I had stopped bashing my swede:

Notice the careful dressing by my lovely, caring wife. She just didn't want me bleeding everywhere. I find that before one tries to exit through a companionway hatch one should open the bloody thing!