This was written half way through last year. Not sure how it never appeared and here we are almost ready to begin a new season. Looking forward to a great summer ahead. This year we may head back up the Rhone - who knows?
Two red lights - cue sighs, groans or worse. One red means hang about for a few minutes; relax while we get things ready for you. But two. Two means STOP.
Something's 'en panne' (broken down) and it might be a while.
STOP complaining and tie up.
STOP your engine. Settle down and send someone ashore who speaks a modicum of French to find out what's gone wrong and if necessary, send for help.
That would be me then.
If the red light happens to be at the upstream end of the magnificent Agen Aqueduct then there's also a 523m trek to the intercom located at the lock.
So, ignoring the no cycling sign I set off along the tow path across the aqueduct - a bit of a white knuckle ride for me. I'm a wobbly rider at the best of times and the tow path is quite narrow and bumpy so no opportunity to even glance at the view below for fear of toppling into the canal. Fortunately I didn't meet anyone coming the other way.
Pressing the button on the lock intercom usually connects you to a central control where you give the details of the lock number you're calling from and a description of the problem and someone will come and sort it out. Not always though. The intercom might not work, there might be a sticker with a number to phone instead or worst of all (for me) there will be a recorded message in high speed French giving you a number to phone. There are lots of lessons on the internet devoted to practising phone numbers. Knowing zero to nine is not enough- you need to learn all the way to 99. Without pausing for thought.
And so it was at the Agen Aqueduct lock. A recorded message with a number to call and me with no pen. All I could do was play the message over and over whilst trying to get a bit more of the number into my phone each time. (Should you be wondering - no, I can't record onto my ancient phone). Before I had finished (quite a long while before) a young man appeared at my side. 'Can I help?' he asked.
'I'm trying to call the lock keeper.'
'I know,' he said.
He was the lock keeper and had run up the hill from the offices (in the sweltering heat but still smiling) to find out who was repeatedly pressing the intercom (although I'm not clear as to why he was unable to answer it). Perhaps his intercom system is of a similar generation to my phone
Anyway, there he was, ready and able to reset the lights and the lock a lot quicker than I can work out a ten digit French phone number.
You may be thinking, 'it can't be that hard'. So, here's an example of an imaginary (I hope) French phone number.
05 38 74 86 92 would be spoken (with minimal pauses) as zero cinque trente huit soixante quatorze quatre-vingt douze
which translates as - zero five, thirty-eight, seventy-four (literally sixty fourteen i,e 60+14), ninety-two (literally four-twenty twelve i.e 4x20+12).
Simple really.
