High and Dry

Some pictures from the lift out. All very nerve wracking. Not enjoying living onboard for these last few days.  Will add to this later. Busy packing and winterising.
And the trains aren't running. We finish as we began.....
Apologies -I never did get around to adding to this post and here we are one week away from returning to France for the 2019 season. Looking forward to being back onboard - once she's afloat again that is.

Midi Madness

Castelnaudary

There are 2 directions to navigate a canal- upstream (uphill) or down. A tip for the prospective hire boater - should your choice of canal be heavily locked (e.g. the Midi) then (in my opinion) think about booking your route in the downhill direction. You probably have only a week and you undoubtedly want that to be as relaxing and enjoyable as possible. Downhill is less physical, less stressful and less likely to result in accident, dispute or divorce.
I don't know if hire companies have a price differential according to direction but they certainly do depending on when you hire. I haven't checked for myself but several eclusiers (lock keepers) have told me that prices in September this year were discounted by 50% resulting in almost every boat available being out on the water. One result of this is a lot of waiting around in queues for locks and so, to move everyone through as quickly and with the least use of water as possible, the eclusiers pack as many boats in each lock as possible. Sometimes tempers can become frayed. So, be patient and (Tip 2) go easy on 'le vin' at lunchtime.
Our plan (yes, we had one for a change since we had guests) was to travel as far as Carcassonne where we would drop off our crew before retracing our steps all the way to Castelsarrasin on the Garonne where l'Avenir would spend the winter. Our friends had one week to spend with us so we checked back on our log from 3 years ago, when we last were on this route, and the 105km from Toulouse to Carcassonne was definitely do-able. I don't mark locks on the log- just dates, times and moorings so it was a bit of a shock to look at the charts and remind ourselves just how many there are and not just single locks either - doubles, trebles and even a quadruple. Having the extra help on board would be most welcome although we'd have to do it all again (the hardest section uphill) on our own on the return.
The waterway was relatively tranquil as far as Castelnaudary - one of the Midi's major stops. The town's main claim to fame is as 'the home of cassoulet' - a delicacy I don't find particularly appealing in temps of mid 30s but I am sure would be very welcome in winter. There is a well-run and attractive port popular with a number of cruising liveaboards who return here to spend their winter. Just through a pretty curved stone bridge at the end of the port is an enormous basin with a small island inhabited by ducks, a swan (only one I think) and some coypu (beaver-like animals). A track runs around the basin and is popular as a shady place for a walk or cycle. The basin is also home to one of the major hire boat companies.We now realised a flaw in our 'plan'. Our stop coincided with changeover day when the week's new hirers take over their boats.

Following a hire boat

One criticism some make of the hire companies is that they don't give their customers much in the way of instruction - usually just a quick run through of the controls and a scoot up and down the canal or, in this case, around the basin. To be fair I suppose they only have limited staff - enough to take a couple of boatloads out a time - and lots of customers waiting. On this particular day, in blazing sunshine, those customers were being given a comprehensive lesson in the art of queueing which, admittedly, might be considered good practice for the week ahead. If you've ever had to wait in an airport car rental office after the arrival of an busy plane you'll be familiar with the scene. Tired, glum holidaymakers slumped on top of their suitcases (which is probably about as much use as a large suitcase and its contents will be all week on a boat with half a dozen others all with their bags as well). Perhaps their time might be more usefully spent viewing a video of what to expect going through a lock (maybe they do have one once they actually get inside the building. I don't know). Next morning we were all jockeying for position at the lock to take us out of the basin. and it's a zinger - a quadruple. That's 4 locks in a staircase. When the gates open after the lock operates you move through them into the next lock and so on.

Coming down the quadruple

As everyone travels at much the same pace we were with the same cohort of boaters all the way to Carcassonne, a crossing point for hirers travelling the other direction - the unfortunate 'uphillers'. The port was jam packed with hire boats and chaotic at times with boats coming and going through the lock and the trip boats trying to run their business through the melee. The Carcassonne lock is reputedly the second most popular visitor attraction in town after the the Citadel.
We said goodbye to our friends and then spent a couple of days gathering our energy for
the long climb back up throught the locks. We visited the old city last time in Carcassonne but I felt I couldn't not go again even though, to me, it's much more alluring from a distance. I had a quick walk through the crowds inside the city and after a rest in the cool shade of the church where I was lucky to hear part of a recital I wandered around the ramparts. Most visitors stick to the tourist shops and cafes leaving the ramparts relatively peaceful and so not completely devoid of atmosphere. 
(Sadly, I don't have any new photos since my brand new camera was dropped (not by me) into the canal whilst we were waiting in a queue for a lock. Most disasters occur in or around locks. The 'dropper' quickly and bravely (or in fear of my ire) followed the camera into the murk and, amazingly, managed to retrieve it. At the time of writing it remains in a bag of rice as no one is game to try it out.)
The return journey (undocumented pictorially by me) was extremely hard work in hot weather. The bow thruster gave up the ghost half way. 

A hot day spent cramped in a tiny locker - fixing the bow thruster

We had to share nearly all the locks (usually with 2 other boats) as far as Castelnaudary which was sometimes stressful, a couple of times damaging and, on occasion, hilarious (or should that be hysterical). We remain, as yet, undivorced.

Now for the lift out.

Back on the peaceful Garonne

Back on the Midi

Most people, if asked to name one canal in France, would answer the Canal du Midi. There are about 8500km of navigable canals and rivers in France and the Midi is only 241km so why is it so well known? Perhaps because it has been a setting in many a TV programme or film.We see it in paintings, postcards, posters and calendars. In short it is photogenic. Most canals are straight but the Midi has curves, not only in its course but also in the shapes of its ancient (350 year old) hand-hewn, stone locks and low bridges. As it winds its way through the south of France it flows close to Mediterranean beaches, passing quaint villages, and then the medieval, fairytale-like  citadel of Carcassonne. Fields of sunflowers follow the sun, grapes ripen in the vineyards and a boat drifts through the dappled shade cast by the stands of old plane trees lining the banks.

Oval lock Canal du Midi

Low bridge - Canal du Midi

 Ok I'll stop there. You get the picture. It's the one they put in the brochures for the hire boat companies. The one with one boat (or maybe 2 because you'll be wanting to make some friends won't you?). The one with empty locks and smiling boaters. It's the same picture I had in my head many years ago when we first bought l'Avenir in the Netherlands. I wanted to come straight to France and make for the Midi. We didn't as it happens (I'm happy to say) but many do.
The Midi is undeniably a most interesting and scenic waterway. It dates from the mid 1600 s and is a marvellous feat of imagination, engineering and sheer hard work. Its UNESCO World Hertiage status is well deserved. Sadly, one of the main features of the picture I just described to you is disappearing year by year - the plane trees. 3 years ago when we last were on the Midi there were long stretches of canal denuded of plane trees; they were being cut down and burned in huge bonfires beside the canal. Many of the remaining trees were daubed with red paint which meant they too were condemned. It was distressing to see and I'm sorry to say this continues. The trees are infected with a fungus which  kills them and they were and are being removed in an attempt to prevent it spreading. This seems not to have been possible. More and more trees are being removed and replaced with different varieties of saplings. These will take many years to reach maturity. In the meantime (and probably forever) the character of the canal is changing. There are still stands of plane trees but less each year.
Constructing the canal was a monumental project designed and overseen by Pierre Paul Riquet. It took 12000 workers (many of whom were women) 15 years of hard manual work. Sadly Riquet died before its completion. It is hard to imagine how difficult life must have been toiling on the construction or, later, working on one of the man/horse hauled boats through non mechanised locks. Believe me, it is exhausting enough travelling on it nowadays particularly in the summer heat and with the added ingredient of the hire boats. Yes, unsurprisingly, the photos in the brochures are not entirely accurate. There are more than one or two boats. There are hundreds.

Leaving Toulouse

We picked up our guests/crew from Toulouse which is where the Midi begins. From there it's all uphill (always harder) to the summit. On this stretch the locks can be quite deep and most are self operated so someone needs to get off the boat on approach in order to press the buttons and take the ropes. There is only one hire base in operation at Negra so it is relatively quiet.

Negra - Chapel

Boatman's Chapel - Negra

Negra has a nice little boatman's chapel beside its lock which is worth a look. There were once 6 chapels along the Midi but now only 2 remain consecrated. This one was the half way mark for the mail boat which also carried passengers between Castelnaudary and Toulouse. The building next door was once an inn but is now the hire base office.
We made the mistake of stopping at the the village of La Seragla on the summit of the canal. The mooring was completely taken up by a peniche turned gite (named 'Avenir') and an abandoned ancient cruiser so we were forced to try and moor against a broken down bank where it was shallow and rocky and we needed a gangplank to get off. To to all the motorhome holidaymakers seated in a row along the canal in your fold up chairs, watching, arms firmly folded - thanks for your offers of help (not one). What is it with these people? They always look so bloody miserable.
The small bar/restaurant in the village had no free tables, there was no boulangerie and overnight the water level dropped leaving us aground. So altogether not a successful stop. With much scraping and screeching of metal we finally got underway. At least it would be downhill from now on. Into the first lock. Press the button. Gates close and then nothing. Was this an omen?

First downhill lock - Canal du Midi

Coming soon ( I hope) -Midi Madness

Over the Rooftops - Toulouse

We are back in Toulouse for the second time this year. No great hardship as it is one of our favourite ports in this part of France. We arrived here a couple of weeks ago to pick up Libby and Brian who join us each year for a week's relaxing holiday. At least that's what they thought they were coming for. The reality turned out to be a little different but that's for a separate instalment.
We were here for a few days before they arrived so I took the opportunity in my time off from the usual washing and preparing cabins etc to take a look around Toulouse at a few of the sights I'd missed previously.

One of those was viewing the city from the rooftop cafe/restaurant at Gallerie Lafayette (big department store). The last time we were here the rooftop was closed. Incidentally the rooftop of the shop's Paris store shouldn't be missed for a fantastic view of that city. Access to the roof and the view(in both cities) is free although do check the menu if you do decide to have something to eat or drink. Certain friends of ours to whom I'd recommended the visit asked the waiter for 'deux (2) Oranginas' ( a fizzy, soft drink). The waiter misunderstood (it seems) and asked them to clarify that they meant blah blah blah. Not being sure themselves what exactly he had said and what they had agreed to they were more than a little surprised to be served with 2 gin cocktails with a bit of orange in them and decidedly gobsmacked at the bill of 30 euros. Apparently they were delicious though. And the view is something to behold.

le Capitole, Toulouse

Another great place to hang out for a drink, ice cream or just people watch is la Place du Capitole. The square has arcades along 2 sides filled with cafes. The waiters can sometimes be 'misunderstanding' here as well as I've experienced previously.

I also took a river (I thought) cruise along the Garonne which turned out to be yet another misunderstanding. The Garonne part of the cruise was about 5 minutes at the beginning and end of an hour long boat ride. We entered a lock just upriver onto the canal du Brienne through the city until it joined the canal du Midi where we are moored now- and it looks exactly the same oddly enough.

Grand Rond Toulouse

Electric Braes

We have managed to go a little further afield than in previous years with the aid of our new velo but as we only have one between us we either go separately or someone has to use one of the trusty old steeds - or not so trusty as the case may be.
Our bikes have served us well over the past 10 years but lately we have had a problem with 'punctures'. A bike tour leader I spoke to said they rarely have trouble but I have certainly seen many a cyclist on the tow path, bike upturned. Perhaps the inner tubes we buy from supermarkets are not very good quality and we should be stocking up on the once in a blue moon occasions when we see a specialist cycle shop. As an emergency back up we've been carrying an aerosol foam sealant.

As the less enthusiastic rider (and having a chivalrous partner) I usually luck in with choice of bike and so it was we found ourselves recently high in the hills, miles from the boat and surrounded by vineyards. Hills I would have had trouble walking up far less cycle without that bit of magical assistance. The views were splendid and I had plenty of time to relax on the verge alongside the vines appreciating them as I waited for my companion relying on muscle power alone.

Our destination was an old fortified village (bastide) but there was, as yet, no sign of it. So on we went until we came to a road sign - no mention of our village though.
'I think we should go back,' said one of us gasping for breath whilst looking longingly at the downhill slope.
The other, making their usual miscalculation, ' It's a fortified village. It's probably at the top of the next hill.'
It wasn't - but there was a chateau. We stopped at the gates for a breather -well, strictly speaking only one of us needed it whilst the other being nosey peered over the wall. An old man and his dog sat  outside the front door of a gatehouse. Seeing me, the dog immediately started barking and the man coughing as only one with a 60 a day habit is able.
I gave a cheery wave and 'Bonjour' and the old guy shuffled over to the gate where we proceeded to have one of those conversations where neither person has any idea of what the other is actually saying but somehow you get the meaning. What we eventually worked out was that the village was miles away and that the assumption that it would be on top of a hill couldn't have been more wrong. We needed to go all the way back down. The man found the whole thing hilarious, particularly my apparent mispronunciation of every single French word especially the name of the village. If you can't even pronounce it how would you expect to find it? Anyway I'm glad we brightened someone's day.

The rider of the muscle propelled bike shot off  before any new plan could be devised and was soon out of sight whist I followed as slowly as my brakes would allow.
We never made it to the village. At the bottom of the hill I found my companion seated at the side of the road looking miserable. Another puncture; the squirty repair kit had failed to fix it completely and we still had a long way to get back to the boat. Now, it happens that the gallant rider of the leg powered velo is also the one with the gammy knee who cannot walk more than a few hundred metres.
So, it was payback time for the one leading him on a wild goose-chase up hills and round the countryside with no map or any thought in their had except that this is good fun for no effort at all.
We swapped cycles.
They aren't called push bikes for no reason you know.

*The Electric Brae of the title is a hill in Scotland near Ayr where a freewheeling car or bike seems to be going uphill of its own volition. It was once thought to be the result of some mysterious force or magic but is actually an optical illusion.

What If?

Years of encouraging young children to write imaginatively has given me a pretty well-developed 'what if?' mentality. Is that such a good skill to develop, I wonder? It's all very well to enliven a story with dramas and catastrophes for the protagonist to overcome but not, perhaps, entirely useful to imagine similar struggles in our daily lives. Some foresight is necessary for the avoidance of problems but too much makes it harder to be brave and adventurous - qualities you would think are not necessary for inland boating. Generally speaking you would be correct.
We were chatting over dinner with a couple from a neighbouring boat. 'Have you been to Bordeaux?' he says.
We spent a couple of enjoyable days there en route to Scotland but that wasn't what he meant, of course. He meant by boat. Now this is something that one of us has been trying to persuade the other to do for the past couple of seasons. No prizes for guessing who is the reluctant one.
The canal de Garonne terminates at Castets en Dorthe, about 70km from Bordeaux. We went there last year and walked along to the deep lock leading down onto the River Garonne. The lock house has a flood gauge on its wall with markers showing the heights and years of the many floods. The lock house is, unusually, double storey and the gauge reaches the second floor. In summer the river is fairly benign but it is tidal which means that you need to travel at particular times. The journey takes about 4 hours by which time the current in Bordeaux is picking up.
Our dining companion assures us that the trip is easy and the mooring superb; right alongside the lovely Water Mirror . This sounds encouraging. I ask if there were any problems at all and he says 'it was a bit swirly' going through the bridge but ok if you have a bow thruster (hmm..) and by the time they moored up there was 'some current but it wasn't too difficult'. Then, 'there was a bit of a party atmosphere at night though.' (We were in Bordeaux on the night of the semi final of the World Cup. I'm familiar with how the locals party). However, I am, initially, encouraged and agree we should go.

The routine on arriving in Castets is to see the port captain to arrange the 'voyage'. A form has to be filled in, the lock descent booked and a phone call made to the Bordeaux port authority to arrange the mooring. And herein we find a problem and not one of my imaginary ones either. The Water Mirror mooring is not available and we will have to go elsewhere. The phone call is quite long and I understand enough to work out that the port captain is not quite sure about what is being suggested.
Anyway, he finishes the call and tells us that we must go to another mooring about 2 km further downstream. (I don't like that 'about'). 'You'll know it when you see it,' he says. 'There's a tower.' I ask him if he can show us on the chart and he just waves his hand over a distance of about 10km.  I remember then that he is new to the port and came here from central France. What if he doesn't really know where exactly we are to go?
We go back to the boat and I pore over the chart and can't work out where we are to moor so we go back and ask again but he's in a hurry on his way home or somewhere and just says, 'You can't miss it. It's a big house. With a garden.'  Is it a Tower or a Big House or both? And now it has a Garden. I just want the name of the place!

 The 'what ifs' begin. The main ones being what if we can't find a place to moor and the tide sweeps us away and/or the bowthruster fails (this has actually happened since so not entirely fanciful)  and'/or the engine breaks down etc. etc. However I am still prepared to go - reluctantly I admit. That night it begins to rain. Heavily.

Next morning it is still pouring. The forecast says it will rain for the next three days. There's been torrential rain in the east of France. What if........?

We cancel the lock.

Honeydew

Back where we started - Moissac. The port already has an end of season feel about it with quite a number of boats double banked and closed up for the winter. There are still a few hire boats passing through - mainly Americans and Australians it seems, Europeans having returned to work and school. Summer is over for many- not quite for us though. We still have another month in France before we follow the sun south.

A few survivors (or late bloomers) from the summer crop

The change of season is evident all along the canal. We, unfortunately, missed the full glory of the huge sunflower fields. The plants look rather crestfallen now, heads dipped towards the ground with their heavy load of dark seeds. The plane trees, of which there are still many along the canal du Garonne and which provide not only welcome shade but are also very lovely to look at haven't yet lost their leaves just the moisture and colour from them. The hoped for autumnal russets don't look as though they are going to happen. Disappointingly they seem to have just 'browned out'. Speaking of 'browning out' plane trees have an unendearing quality - that of completely covering boats with a mass of brown spots and dust. A sort of speckled egg finish which is nigh on impossible to remove without removing the underlying paint as well. Strictly speaking it is not entirely the fault of the poor trees themselves. We assumed it was some sort of resin but have recently been given a less appealing explanation for me to ponder on as I scrub away. Apparently, it may be the sticky 'residue' excreted from sap feeding insects and is called, rather prettily, honeydew. (I'll never look at honeydew melons the same way again).

What's Happened to the Blog?

The Clock Tower - entrance to Auvillar

I hear you and I'm sorry. 2 months away is almost inexcusable. I say almost but I do have a tiny (well, 3kg sized) excuse. A new grandson! We abandoned poor l'Avenir for 6 weeks so I could fly home to Australia combined with stop-overs in Scotland. We've been back on board for a week now but I'm still not quite into the swing of things.

As we were flying from Bordeaux we decided to leave l'Avenir in Buzet. We know and like the port and it's not too far from the main railway line. Last time I wrote we were in Montauban and so we once again retraced our water steps along the canal de Garonne. We have been up and down this canal so many times that we sometimes feel we know what's around every corner and that there's nothing new to be discovered. Not true of course.

Our horizons have been extended a little by a rather wonderful purchase. I happened to be sauntering through a village en route to buy the morning baguette when I saw a rather nice, new looking, 2 wheeled vehicle 'a vendre' in the front garden of a cottage. The owners were sitting out front as well enjoying the sun so we got chatting. The lady wanted to sell because it was 'too fast'. Before long we had negotiated a price (my French teacher might even have been a little impressed) and now we have this marvellous machine. Does it go fast? Yes - 20kph uphill.  I may feel as though I'm in the Tour de France as I fly past red-faced cyclists with a cheery 'bonjour' but I'm sure they are unimpressed.
There are one or two drawbacks of course- you can't leave it lying around, we only have one between two of us and my hat keeps blowing off (I know- wear a helmet). But in a country where many of the interesting old villages and towns are built on top of hills it's been great and it allows us to see places that bit further afield.

One of those is Auvillar an ancient Occitan market town and port on the River Garonne (also one of the 'most beautiful villages in France' - invariably at the top of steep hills). The village is a staging post for pilgrims on the popular St Jacques du Compostelle route all of whom struggle up the steep hill on foot, many carrying heavy looking rucksacks. (They climb up a steeper but shorter route than the road so sparing me any feelings of guilt.)

The main square (which is actually triangular) in Auvillar has La Halle as its beautiful centrepiece. It is still used as a marketplace.

River Garonne from Auvillar. Nuclear power station in background.

Fire and Flood -Montauban

Stained Glass, Eglise St Orens, Montauban

For one reason or another we haven't done much in the way of cruising this year. We've needed to have decent access to internet without bankrupting ourselves so a big thank you to Moissac, Castelsarrasin, Montech and Montauban for including wifi in the port charges. Plans have had to been researched, arranged, changed and changed again. All will become clear in time.

As for the weather - the less said the better really. I've had full waterproofs on for the first time in years. Not at all what you'd expect in southern France in June but at least we can tie up and sit it out for days (weeks) without feeling too cheated unlike those on expensive hire boat holidays. The canals are full to overflowing and the rivers are closed to navigation due to the fast flow. At the moment we are sitting just above the double lock leading down onto the River Tarn and the canal water is flowing over the top of the lock gates at quite a rate.

Lower of double lock onto River Tarn

Having said that, the Tarn, whilst flowing fast, is still confined within its banks which hasn't always been the case. There is a flood marker beside the lovely Pont Vieux (Old Bridge.Very old in fact, 14th century) showing the height of the flood of March 1930 - 12 metres. 25 people drowned, more than a thousand homes were lost and 10 000 made homeless. Many more might have lost their lives had it not been for the bravery of others taking to their canoes to rescue them. One in particular, a young man named Adolphe Poult is said to have rescued more than 100 before his own canoe overturned and he was drowned. There is a fine stained glass window in the church of St Orens close to the riverbank depicting the scene.
Further downstream Moissac was also badly affected with 120 losing their lives and 6000 becoming homeless.

Pont Vieux Montauban

Today we were extremely saddened to read of the destruction by fire of the beautiful, unique, Charles Rennie Mackintosh designed, School of Art in Glasgow. I hope that it can somehow be saved. Here in Montauban there is a very famous museum - the Musee Ingres- about which people keep saying to us, 'There's a great museum in Montauban. Pity it's closed.' Closed it is indeed; its renovations due to be finished at the end of 2019. The museum was housed in a mainly 17th century (although some parts much earlier) bishops' palace at the city end of the Pont Vieux. I had a look at it yesterday and renovations seems a bit of an understatement. They've already been going on over a year and the building looks to be completely gutted - just the walls standing. A huge undertaking but considered worthwhile as part of Montauban's history. It had previously been renovated at some expense in the 1950s. So, let us hope that Glasgow's School of Art is similarly cherished and every effort is made to rebuild.

Charles Rennie Mackintosh - rose and teardrop

Funny Hats, Frilly Dresses, Funfairs and Fireworks

Moissac. No idea of significance of outfits. Handing out delicious apple aperitif & cooking barbecue.

The canal and the River Tarn at Moissac are separated by a couple of rows of houses, a road and an esplanade - usually a tranquil spot for a stroll. There was nothing tranquil about the area on the weekend of our arrival though. I have never seen so many carnival rides, rifle ranges and sundry other fairground attractions crammed so close together. You had to keep your wits about you for fear of losing them along with our head. How they all fitted in with their enormous trucks and extricated themselves once again after the weekend via the narrow access road I don't know.  A bit like a 3D jigsaw puzzle.

The carnival was here as part of the festivities for the Pentecost weekend. Also in town were 8 young women competing for the title of Rosière de France. This isn't a beauty contest; the girls are supposed to be virtuous and hard working but I don't know what the judging entails although wearing white gowns seemed to be expected.The girls were driven around town in vintage cars accompanied by a brass band.

Moissac's own Rosière and the brass band then transferred to boats on the canal and proceeded down through the lock onto the river where they joined another boat full of young 'marins' (children dressed in sailor costumes).

These children and some older Marins had been stationed around the town all weekend handing out portions of bread to passers by. I did ask what the significance of the bread was but sadly didn't understand much of the answer (must be the accent).

The Rosière then threw a wreath into the water to commemorate all those sailors drowned in the river whilst the brass band played the Marseillaise. The solemnity of the moment was a slightly reduced by the competing swing band playing at an open air tea dance on the bank, plus the carnival ride music, screams and so on but no one seemed to care. In fact, the brass band then came ashore and continued to play with great gusto no more than 50 metres away form the swing band. Neither band missed a beat in their different repertoires and nor did the couples on dance floor.

The weekend finished with fireworks backlit spectacularly by lightning strikes. Apparently the display was curtailed by technical problems but I didn't notice. They had been practising all weekend with heart attack inducing, randomly timed explosions so nothing really should have gone wrong.

Moissac is now back to its normal, relatively quiet self. We are ready to make a move but it's raining. Plus we can't decide which way to go - east or west?

A Striking Start

Ten months is a long time to leave a boat - and a blog - untended. Our last two cruising seasons were greatly curtailed but for the best of reasons; the birth of grandchildren. Leaving the littlies on the other side of the world this year is quite a wrench, hopefully we can skype.

Thank you to those of you have come back to join us for 2018 - our tenth year on l'Avenir - and welcome aboard to new readers.

Arriving and travelling in France in May always takes a little planning due to the number of public holidays but this year has been complicated by strikes (grèves). Strikes and protests are far from an unusual occurrence here but they are usually over and done with in a day or so. Not so this spring. In April the railway workers began three months of rolling strikes and were joined by Air France during May. The railways helpfully published a calendar of strike days which amount to 3 days of strikes per week but you can't find out which services are cancelled until 24 hours beforehand.

So, unable to take the TGV from Paris to Toulouse we luckily managed to book a flight (not Air France). Then we just had to get to Moissac a distance of around 75 km and on the main line from Toulouse to Bordeaux which may or may not be any use thanks to the strike.

***

The staff in Toulouse station are helpful and pleasant, the queues at the ticket office being almost entirely comprised of disappointed and displaced tourists rather than angry, local commuters. Each of the ticket booths is manned (unusual) and the officers all appear interested and concerned (extraordinary). When I explain where we want to go my ticket officer looks immediately sad and shakes his head but, impressively, manages to avoid the default 'shrug'. 'I think it is not possible,' he says. I suspect this is the opening statement to everyone. He then begins sifting through a pile of printouts of the day's cancellations and typing into his computer. Rob limps up to join me at the counter (his knee in complaining mode). Bear in mind that having been 'economied' from one side of the globe to the other we aren't, at this point, looking our energetic and smart best. Our officer pauses his typing, looks from one of us to the other and says something. I don't understand and ask him to repeat. I still don't understand, so apologise. He blushes (he's young), squirms and looks from one to the other yet again whilst searching for words I'll be sure to understand; the be brief and blunt method. He hesitates a bit more then decides on that simple phrase you learn in your first French class at school (but which is conspicuously absent from adult classes).
 'How old are you?'
 I smile (sort of) and reply to the question I think he was originally asking. 'No, we don't have any discount cards.'

But, we have tickets! And with a discount for looking (being) ancient (thank you young man) they cost just 11 euros each. The drawback is that we have to wait until 4pm (it's 10am and the station loos cost 70 cents a time) and the train will go only as far as Montauban where we'll have to transfer to a bus. A bit of an expedition but we'll see a bit more of the countryside than we expected.

We eventually arrive in port in the early evening to find l'Avenir somewhat grubby and looking slightly worse for wear (like us).  She's still afloat and warm and dry inside though.

The liveaboards in port are all on their way to a nearby bar and invite us to join them. We are exhausted but go anyway. The beginning of a lively Pentecost weekend in Moissac.