Loaf-less lock lurkers

Loaf-less lock lurkers

St Symphorien-sur-Saône to Villeguisen

91km

38 locks

Hours – not included as we had many lock breakdowns

With a cupboard full of ready meals and a part baked loaf, we set forth for the Canal entre Champagne et Bourgogne. We had been told that this canal was a desert in terms of shops, bars and restaurants from start to finish.

Before we could actually get on to the canal, we had the Petite Saône to negotiate. Thankfully, it was still calm compared to the Yonne last year, although the strong winds did make it look choppy.

I didn’t realise how windy it actually was though until we were half way up the river. Waiting for the second lock, there was nothing to tie the boat to. With not having bow thrusters, I span Genie’s Wish around twice before the lock doors were open. Amidst this, I tried pushing the boat’s front button gently against the wall the gates were attached to (once against a wall, by keeping the boat in forward gear you can hold steady - providing the wall isn't falling apart.) Just as I was inches away, a strong gust pushed the bow into the sensor box knocking it clean off the wall. We entered the lock but with no beam to break, the gates remained open. A few minutes passed and still nothing. Tracy climbed the lock ladder and pressed the intercom to report the lock not working.

To keep myself busy, I took some pictures of our 'prison' the broken lock

A hire boat arrived spinning around in circles back out in the channel, I beckoned them in constantly but they either didn’t see me, thought I was a nut, or just hung around to see my impression of a windmill. Two more boats arrived and it didn’t take much persuading for them to come in out of the wind. “It’s broken” I said as they entered. “What’s wrong?” I was asked. Feeling embarrassed and without speaking I shrugged my shoulders then cast my gaze to the hire boat now speeding off. “Hire boaters” came their disgruntled reply.

VNF arrived, clipped the box back on the wall and we were off. Yes, I felt bad for not holding my hand up and a pillock for knocking the box off, but in fairness there should have been something to tie to, especially while waiting on a river.

There was a cold and bitter wind blowing as we moored up at Auxonne and the rain was very off-and-on-able.

I lit the stove and Tracy huddled close to it and couldn’t be moved. I ventured out and bumped into Junior who we had previously met at Dijon and joined him later that evening for a beer or two and a chat.

Something Tracy's grown familiar with, she's now looking for a job as a window cleaner. 

Auxonne was next to a hire boat base and watersports venue but, despite the bad weather, we still had water skier’s zipping frequently past the boat causing us to rock about inflicting on us a cruel and unusual punishment.

On the Monday, we untied From Auxonne and arrived at the Canal entre Champagne et Bourgogne just before lunchtime. We entered the first lock as it was already set for us. Tracy, the lock ladder monkey, did her stuff and shimmied up to acquire a remote control for this canal. It was a ‘press the buzzer for a remote to pop out’ affair. Only it didn’t. The man at the other end of the phone line kept asking for the number of the device and Tracy kept insisting that one hadn’t popped out. This went on for a few minutes until, exasperated, the man hung up. After redialing she then got a lady who was a little more patient with her and arranged for someone to come out to us. Our man arrived fiddling and twiddling knobs that eventually prompted two remotes to drop out of the machine.

That's the remote dispenser under the camera 

Now armed with our remote, we were off.

Strange art we saw on the canal

And one of the few boats on the canal

Or were we? On reaching the first lock and despite pressing the remote numerous times the lock didn’t respond. This was the first of many locks on the ascent that were ‘en panne’. I began to suspect somebody playing silly buggers, as the locks can be controlled from a central location.

Some of the pictures I took while waiting for the locks to be fixed

Tracy even took the opportunity to take the lads for a walk

We finally made it to Renève. After tying up we had a wander into the lovely village. Despite having a Mairie the size of Manchester Town Hall and a large school there wasn’t a shop to be had. Luckily, we had enough supplies so didn’t really need anything.

Our mooring in Renève

The village was lovely to walk around but there were no shops or bars

The next day we cruised up to Saint Seine sur Vingeane set in a lovely forest. The notice board promised a supermarket, bar and post office. It was only when we were tied up and walked back to the board did we notice red tape through each of these with a note saying ‘fermè’. We did wonder what could have happened to the town for it to lose all of its services.

If you look very closely the red tape contains the words 'fermè'

We did have a nice walk through the forest though

And saw this wonderful beetle

Things were looking up when we pulled in at Cusey the following day. Parked on the mooring was a static caravan advertising pizzas, frites and tantalizing, ice creams (we don’t own a fridge or freezer so when we see a sign for ice cream we start to drool). After tying up we raced over but despite knocking on the doors and windows there was no-one at home. We had a wander into the village where there was a boulangerie but the handwritten note on the door stated the hours were 7am-9am and then 11am-noon and tough titty if you couldn’t make these hours. How a shop can run a business like this is beyond me.

Our mooring at Cusey

For the rest of the evening we kept an eye out for anyone returning to the caravan but at around 9pm all hopes of ice-cream were lost and we gave up looking. I imagined eating a rummy raisin one. Not quite the same (but there was less calories in it).

The next day, we really did need to find a boulangerie. We still had our ‘half baked loaf’ but with the gas cooker running on fumes, we didn’t feel it would have the legs to finish a 30 minute bake. Our guide promised a boulangerie along with a grocery store at our next stop. The only problem was, we hit another lock out of action. Tracy stepped off the boat like a cat near water and once again contacted VNF from the telephone at the lockside.

Waiting for the lock to be fixed on a very small landing stage

Once the ‘en panne’ was reported she went into the village to see if there was any bread to be had. “Non” said two old ladies. “You have no bread, one of them asked” looking really concerned.

Then as Tracy was walking back up to the boat one of the old lady’s came cycling up behind her like a comet waving half a baguette. We were both really touched by this and couldn’t thank her enough. After a sandwich we felt much better, the light on the lock turned green and we were off on our travels once more.

Pièpape hoved into view and the mooring there were amidst an idyllic setting.

Our mooring in Pièpape

You can see from the vegetation there's not too much traffic 

Backing up our guide, the signboard promised us a grocery and boulangerie. There was a footpath through a field that led directly to the village and practically to the doorstep of the boulangerie. Again, there was a handwritten note taped to the door. ‘Due to economic circumstances, the shop will only be open in the morning’. Looking at our watches we had missed our chance. Returning to the boat we gratefully gnawed on the last remnants of that kind old lady’s baguette.

Walking back to the boat loaf-less

The village was very nice though

We hadn’t seen a sign of the promised grocery store so after lunch set out to find it. Speaking to a couple of locals they looked confused when we asked them where it was. Helpfully, they did tell us there was a bar cum restaurant in the next village along the canal some 2km away. Fancying a walk we set off to find it and arrived at Villeguisen to find a cheerful looking place in the village centre. We ordered two beers and asked about the menu from the restaurant. A lady having a coffee shouted across to us, “It’s whatever they cook. Today it was donkey”. We left in high spirits after almost choking on our beers at some of her humorous comments.

The next day, determined to get bread we set forth at 6.45am so as to arrive at the shop the moment it opened. On entry the shop looked empty with no shopkeeper in sight and no food either. It was like entering a shop in communist Russia. Looking around we noticed a few dusty tins of food on the shelves, then Tracy leaned over the counter and spotted half a dozen baguettes. After purchasing two we quickly left before we could be offered any ‘special’ meat.

The next day, we decided to have lunch at the restaurant in Villeguisen and so we went up the three locks and travelled the two kilometres before tying next to a disused factory. In fact we cruised past at first as we didn’t believe that this was the mooring, only when we reached the next lock did the penny drop.

Around Villeguisen village

Lunch turned out to be a hit and miss affair. As neither of us has ever tried eggs cocotte before, we weren’t sure what to expect. Mine was half cooked like a very runny scrambled egg and Tracy’s was completely raw with a snotty egg running through it. The cheese course more than made up for this though as they had the local cheese ‘fromage de langue’ on the board and it was unbelievably good.

After lunch, we thought the two hour walk around the circumference of the lake would do us good. Things started well but three-quarters of the way around it began to rain. The rain was getting heavier and heavier and the trees we were sheltering under were not giving us much protection. We spotted an old derelict shed a short distance away and made a mad dash for it in the hope that it was open. It was and we were soon relieved to be out of the driving rain. After a couple of minutes we started to take in our surroundings. There was a sofa/bed and a shelf that held lots of personal items. We also noticed a wall created out of empty beer bottles, a big wall. We both began to feel very uncomfortable and didn’t fancy some drunken, mad, backwoods redneck hacking his way toward us out of the forest. As true Mancunians, we pulled our hoods back up and braved the rain.

Around the lake at Villeguisen

Even though it says 'danger - no entry' I was intrigued to find out what was behind the gate and down the hole

To save you risking life and limb for a peek this is it, (you're welcome)

This 20 cents coin is roughly the same size as a 10p coin

When we got back to the boat, Tracy collapsed on the sofa and from the sound of the snores resonating through the boat, she wasn’t moving any time soon. I leaned out of the side hatch and began to watched the world go by.

A local chap came over and was interested in the boat and the journey we had taken. I offered him a coffee and he said “I will return in ten minutes”.

As he disappeared I did wonder if it was something I had said in my poor French to upset him, but no, ten minutes later Valentin returned with two friends, Clement and Ines, and a bottle of pink champagne in an ice bucket.

Valentin, Clement and Ines (beautiful people)

Clement could speak perfect English after living and working in San Francisco for a year and acted as interpreter for the rest of us. After writing down some French swear words and comparing slang, they invited me to join them at the village bar.

It was a joyful affair with the whole village packed into the small venue. Drinks were flowing and each of the locals insisted I try their favorite tipple, which of course I did, (only to be polite of course). They all made me feel like Eric Cantona returning home after winning a cup, how grand and thoughtful their welcome was.

After the bar closed, we all walked to a nearby house for more drinks and nibbles. Someone took control of the music on my iPhone and the party started.

We all laughed and chatted and I completely forgot I am still learning the language. It was one of the best nights I have ever spent and I was made to feel like a member of their village not just a stranger passing through. Thank you all – you lovely, lovely people.

'Avin it large - as we say in Manchester

After a couple of hours sleep and a strong coffee I was ready but reluctant to leave the next day.

During our voyage, Tracy will read out passages from a book about the French waterways a couple of her colleagues bought her as a leaving prezzie (big thanks to Angela and Sandy). Before we left, Tracy read out the following passage to me concerning the tunnel of Balésmes we were heading towards:

“It was as well that we didn’t know then that slow travelling barges were sometimes attacked and robbed in the dark tunnel, nearly five kilometers long”. 

(extract from Watersteps Through France by Bill and Laurel Cooper)

Moving as fast as an escargot grazing on Mogodon, we nervously crept towards mugger’s tunnel.

Entering Mugger's tunnel, will we survive?

Moorings in Auxonne

Cost: Free.

Facilities: Both water and electricity available but only at weekends and after 6pm during the week, both free.

Location: Small town with a good selection of shops.

Moorings in Renève

Cost: Free.

Facilities: None.

Location: Small village with no facilities.

Moorings in Cusey

Cost: Free.

Facilities: Both water and electricity free.

Location: Small village with no facilities. There is a caravan advertising takeaway food on the mooring but it was closed while we were there.

Moorings in Pièpape

Cost: Free.

Facilities: None.

Location: Small village with a boulangerie which had limited opening hours and stock.

Moorings in Villeguisen

Cost: Free.

Facilities: None.

Location: Very friendly village with bar/restaurant/tabac

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