Plane sailing

Namur to Montagne du Nord

?? km (I don’t have accurate information)

8 locks

16 hours

A Belgium harbourmaster helpfully wrote 'avoid' next to Charleroi for us, the town actually looked alright to us but then again we are from Manchester

It wasn’t that we didn’t like Belgium, we have spent time in various towns and cities and have loved the people and the ambience of these places. Rather, it was the sheer volume of commercial traffic on the canals and the unaccommodating lock keepers we were encountering that began to make our journey stressful and our nerves jangle.

With the notion of maximising our European adventure, we decided to head back into Belgium in order to take the boat on both the inclined plane at Ronquieres and the Strepy lift.

I think it's sunk guys

Please slow down, yeah right

After leaving Namur, we agreed amongst ourselves to carry on until lock closure to put some miles behind us on the canal. As we arrived at Auvelais we noticed a large wooden jetty with an English-flag waving peniche and a small cruiser on it. We continued past and pondered on weather or not to stop. Lidl then came into view around the next corner and that sealed the deal. We needed a few supplies and as the weather changed from grey to bleak we thought we had indeed made the right decision especially as it began bucketing it down just as we’d finished tying up.

There were bridge works right next to us and the scaffolders kept us awake for much of the night with their dismantling of the poles, nothing clangs quite like a scaffold pole.

Our mooring next to the Clangers. We kept an eye out for the Soup Dragon, but he never appeared

After topping up with supplies, we set off again wanting to put a full day in and eventually ended up spending the night at Viesville lock. 

Our mooring next to Viesville lock

Leaving early the next day, we passed Charleroi on route and a few people had told us “stick to the path, beware the full moon” when travelling through. The town itself seemed to be just an ordinary modern town, there didn’t appear to be any signs that would indicate it to be any worse than any other town and in fact the ornate bridges down to the lock gave it a Venetian air.

The banks at Charleroi must have been lined with boats at one time as there are plenty of mooring pins. Nowadays, the moorings come with a government health warning 

It was a different story on the otherside of the Marcinelle lock as the place took on an industrial grimy feeling.

Ronquieres and the inclined plane was a few kilometers up the Canal de Charleroi towards Brussels, only a short detour from the direction we were heading, so we went for it.

After mooring up at the top of the plane we went and peered down the long, long slope. We had absolutely no idea how to make contact so as to organise our trip down and back up again.

Approaching the inclined plane

There was a building in front of us which looked like a very long, thin block of windowless, high rise flats and we presumed that there would be an office buried somewhere inside. Tracy volunteered to go and investigate and, after negotiating the walkway with a sign that read ‘no pedestrians’ on it, entered a foyer with flights of steps in front and what looked suspiciously like a small visitor centre to one side.

Tracy eventually returned looking frazzled saying we would be the third boat to go in the morning. She hadn’t actually been able to speak to anyone directly and the information conveyed had been by a series of Chinese whispers from the visitor centre receptionist on the ground floor via a series of other personnel on various other floors of the high rise building. She wasn’t given a time or details of how we could make our return journey.

Pimp my ride

Then, as we were sauntering back to the boat, the heavens opened and we made a very wet short sprint managing to get soaked right through such was its severity.

The next morning we were up at the first crack of daylight and out to have a wander around. Spotting a chap on a commercial boat returning with a shopping bag the previous evening we decided to see if we could buy a loaf anywhere nearby.

There was what looked like a subway leading down to a path that ran the full length of the inclined plane. We donned our hiking boots and off we went. The plane itself was much, much further than we had anticipated and when we finally made it to the end there was literally a brick wall in front of us.

As we were scouting for a way over, under or through the wall a face appeared high up on the top. “You will have to climb the steps and come back with me,” he said. The so-called steps were to one side of the wall built into the sheer face of the hillside. There was no handrail and the steps themselves were at different levels, very narrow, steep and covered in moss and fallen branches. We took a deep breath and a strong hold of the dogs and started to make our way up. Eventually, we reached the top (without looking down) and then had to negotiate a fence whilst maintaining our dignity.

Once up and over we met the captain of the inclined plane who was really friendly and completely incurious as to what on earth we were doing in the predicament we had found ourselves in. “There are no shops this end, you need to go back. Come on, jump on board” he shouted and closed the gates behind us. The plane itself was like a huge swimming pool on wheels, boats tied up inside and the whole trough either ascended or descended whilst being raised or lowered by thick steel cables.

Scream if you want to go faster

Tracy and the lads could't get further away

Rocky looking at the menu

Just taking a bath

Thanks for the ride Captain Danny

We had the most unique experience possible, as ordinarily you would have to stay in your boat. During the accent we walked right up to the forward end of the tub and stretched out our arms like supersized versions of Kate and Leo from Titanic.

This whole experience would have been wonderful if it hadn’t have been for the captain and crew of the commercial boat who were looking at us as if to say “what a pair of twats” and their bulldog, Rocky, who took exception to Oddjob and Piglet being in his space and spent the whole journey looking for a way to get at them and tear them into little pieces.

As we reached the top, we thanked the captain and explained that we felt there was no point in us taking our boat down and back up again now, as we’d just experienced the plane in a unique and unusual way. So after cheery waves and goodbyes all around, we turned the boat towards Strepy boatlift and headed off.

On arrival, there were a number of other pleasure boats and a couple of commercials. We moored behind the cruisers and, thinking we had all the time in the world, I jumped off to take some photos.

Next joy ride, the Strepy lift

The lift doors opened and a commercial boat started to motor into place. As it did, the three small cruisers that had been moored in front of us about turned and left. Not knowing what was happening Tracy found the channel number for contacting the lift by radio and asked “what time we could expect to get through.” “Now! Quick get in with that commercial boat” the captain shouted in disbelief. Panic stricken, we untied, and puttered in as quickly as a 36 horse powered engine pushing a 17-ton boat would allow us. (16-ton if you don’t include my lunch box).

Just enough room for a narrow one, if you're quick

Initially, I remember thinking that they must have to pump up gallons of water to refill this deep lock in order to maintain the water levels on the canal above. It was only when we began to descend that I realised the whole thing was again like a huge swimming pool, only this time instead of sliding down an inclined plane, we were being lowered in a giant aquatic tank by very thick wire cables that lined every wall. It was like the slow version of Disneyland’s ‘Tower of Terror’. (Only this time without Tracy’s scared face).

For a moment I was worried about it not taking my weight 

Although we weren't allowed off the boat, our lift attendant was nice enough to take a couple of snaps for us

Gongoozlers at 12 O'clock

Women's wear and lingerie. Going down!

After a short walk for a loaf, we only realised we'd been moored on a trip boat mooring when only moments after casting off it arrived. Mooring ignorance is sometimes bliss 

After a morning of white knuckle rides, we pointed the boat in the direction of Mons and reached the city by early evening.  On approach the port looked full so we decided to tie up against a wall.

Our mooring in Mons and the railway bridge we had to clamber across 

The wall we chose to moor against would have been perfect had it not been for the water-skiers and jet-skiers making our lives a living hell.  

Believe it or not, the waves from these guys are much worse than any commercial boat

After tea, we needed to find a WIFI so we could transfer some money. On leaving the boat we shouted across to some cyclists on the other side of the canal asking if there was a McDonalds nearby. “Yes, on this side” came the reply. As far as we could make out the only way across was by way of a railway bridge that we had to clamber up and traipse along the rails before slip sliding our way back down. I noticed a big hole in the walkway at one end so at this point we had to get even closer to the train lines in orders to avoid it.

Luckily, no trains passed us and I am sure we were breaking a number of byelaws by attempting this stupid act. The public information films from my childhood kept playing in my head as we were doing it (‘don’t play on the railways!’).

We managed to get down in one piece and could see a distant steeple of a cathedral so started to walk in that general direction. It began to go dark and, after what felt like miles, we spotted a couple of women outside a house and asked them how far to McDos. “Very far” was the answer. Good news, there was a similar fast food restaurant with WIFI just behind the motorway that ran by their house. We expressed our gratitude for this information and left after being given the vaguest of directions on how to find it. Taking our lives in our hands once again, we crossed busy carriageways and played chicken with speeding motorists. Eventually, we had to admit we were completely lost and I ended up flagging down a car and asking them where the hell we were. New directions were given and we eventually landed at Quick, the fast food place, only for the WIFI not to work when we got there.

We just could not believe it and were about to go back home when we spotted a bar “may as well try it” we thought.

Now, without transferring the money, we didn’t have a penny to our names but luckily the bar was packed and when I asked for the passcode for the WIFI I wasn’t challenged to buy a pint first. With money transferred, we decided to stay in the bar and have a celebratory drink. The barman took my order but before I could pay a family barged in and wanted to settle their bill. Our two beers were completely forgotten so we decided to give up and go home.

It was now pitch black and we had the motorway junction and the railway to negotiate all over again. Luckily when we were back in Dinant, one of the bars had given us a couple of torch keyrings. Tracy had attached hers to her bag and it gave us just enough light to enable us to get home safely. Unfortunately they were like the torches you see in horror films were you have to keep bashing them to work and when it went out you couldn’t see your feet.

The final obstacle was scrambling down the high wall the boat was moored against as only the stern was touching the wall with the bow tied to a post. Amazingly, we both managed to drop down from the wall on to the gunwale and shimmy our way to the front door without injury. (Just as well we didn’t have that drink after all). Once in, we made a cuppa and within an hour were both asleep on the sofa.

Cruising past the port of Mons we noticed it was completely full so it was just as well we’d moored on our high wall the evening before.

Mons port ahead

From Mons we decided to have a long day’s cruise and head for Montagne du Nord where we knew there was a good mooring from our journey last year.

Tracy did most of the steering that day and didn’t seem to notice that she was an ‘all you can eat buffet’ for the local mosquitoes and horseflies. In fact at one point, I spotted one horsefly feasting on her leg and after swatting it the blood continued to literally squirt out. By the end of the day the left side of her face was completely puffed up and one eye nearly swollen shut, I had to keep reminding myself that she was a human being and not an animal, but did consider placing a paper bag over her head as she was scaring the dogs.

As is always the way in life, Montagne du Nord was a lot farther than we remembered and it seemed to take us forever to get there. When we turned the final corner and saw the mooring in front of us we were both beyond elated.

The final lock before Montagne du Nord

Floating through pea-green soup

Our mooring in Montagne du Nord

For those of you interested in what living on a narrowboat is like, have a look at the fantastic drawings our friend Peter Hyndman did of us and Genie's Wish. Peter sends these amazing illustrations and stories to his grand kids back in Australia.

http://frompapa.blogspot.fr/2014/08/30-to-elliott-lily-and-sebastian-august.html

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Moorings in Auvelais

Cost: Free

Facilities: None

Location: Lidl a short distance away, we didn’t investigate further

Moorings at Viesville lock

Cost: Free

Facilities: None

Location: None, although the donkeys living next to us were cute

Moorings in Ronquieres

Cost: Free

Facilities: None

Location: According to the captain of the plane, no shops of any description in the area at all (the boater with the carrier bag, still remains a mystery?)

Moorings in Mons

Cost: Free on our wall but the port would charge

Facilities: None for us but full facilities in the port for a charge

Location: Our mooring and the port are both a long way from the city centre

Moorings in Montagne du Nord

Cost: Free

Facilities: None

Location: One tabac and a large supermarket approximately 0.5km