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.