Digoin with you

Digoin to Montchanin

58 km

26 locks

3 lift/swing bridges

20 hours

After the tranquility of the Roanne canal, the lock at Digoin was like entering a street jubilee or parade. The sunshine had brought out hordes of people. Still being February, seeing everybody dressed for summer made us feel like we had cruised through a time hole. Spring cometh bearing summer - fingers crossed.

Leaving the lock at Digoin

And entering the town

I had a whole list of jobs I wanted to do in the short time we were at Digoin, frustratingly I didn’t achieve any of them. Entering Bricomarche (the French equivalent of B&Q) with a long list of items I needed I was met with ‘non, non and non’ from the shop assistant to my requests.  Finally, with my bladder full to bursting I asked the young girl “ou est la toilette” (pronouncing it toy-let). She looked completely blank and called a colleague over. I repeated my mangled attempt at their language and they both just looked perplexed. A third colleague joined them and still no comprendez. I tried asking in different tones and accents, knowing the word toilet was very similar to the French word toilette.  By now a substantial crowd had gathered and I felt like a lead singer stretching his vocal cords before a song, with the audience eagerly waiting. I was cornered, I could see one girl smirking and could envision her saying in French, “just pretend you don’t know what he’s on about, and keep your eyes out for the wet patch.”

Desperate times call for desperate measures, so eventually with a crowed suitable for a street performer, I shouted “La toy-let” whilst acting out a man having a pish. “Oh la toilette (twa-let)” the crowed roared laughing before pointing me in the general direction.

After our second visit, we were glad to finally see the back of Digoin and off we set for Paray-le-Monial.

The journey to Paray-le-Monial

One of the items we had not been able to get hold of in Digoin was gas and we were now running on fumes from our emergency bottle. To our delight, the main road ran right next to the canal at Paray-le-Monial and we spotted a shop selling the gas we needed, this meant I only had a short way to donkey hump the full bottle.

We had previously cycled to the Grand Frais in Paray when we were last in Digoin but had only seen the industrial/retail park side of the town so were really happy when we finally pulled into the moorings and discovered that Paray was a lovely old medieval town with a beautiful basilica right near the canal.

The basilica near to the canal

The moorings at Paray-le-Monial

The streets aren't paved with gold but the street lamps are beautiful

Oddjob wandering about the outdoor gym

We think this might have been the escape route

Getting water was, as usual, a priority for us and we were at first pleased to see facilities right on the port but unfortunately these had been turned off for the winter. There was another boater in front of us with a group of lads all heading for the Canal de Bourgogne to sell their boat. “We have already tried the water” they said despondently. “Ah, but have you located the stop tap” I responded. The six of us all set out on a treasure hunt and within minutes one of the chaps shouted triumphantly that he had found it. Both our boats were filled and after a celebratory glass of wine we all shook hands gratefully and they departed. They had been worried that without the weight of water their boat would not have been able to get under the many bridges ahead.

We had a wander around the old streets of the town and found a couple of wine merchants. I always ask what their favourite wine is and am always amazed that it is usually no more than €7 or €8 a bottle, considering some of the wines for sale were for hundreds of euros. I was taken aback by their genuine honesty, although this rare trait would often encourage me to buy more (salesman’s dream that I am).

The recommended wines

Before setting off for Palinges, I filled up once more and managed to almost gouge half my finger off on the sharp edge of a stiff stop tap (that’ll teach me).

After being in towns for over a week it was a relief to finally get back into rural France and Palinges was a laid back little village with the moorings set about ½ km away.

The moorings at Palinges

There was a cosy little auberge on the canal side where we decided to have lunch, the highlight being the fresh ‘all you can eat’ style buffet entrée and the homemade chocolate mousse pudding. The cheese course arrived and we could smell the chevre before it appeared on the table. Apparently, Tracy once encountered a herd of wet wild goats whilst on a walk and the smell of chevre always reminds her of them. I on the other hand haven’t been up close and personal with a goat myself, (despite the rumours) so find their cheese rather delicious with red onion. Although I once lived in a damp flat with a similar smell, maybe I should have rubbed the walls with onions to enhance the aroma.

Lovely meal and good value for money at this restaurant

And here is the menu, with us drooling in the background

We tried to follow the route of a walk but signposts were not to be had and ended up doing our own thing. Thankfully, we did manage to find the lake and with it still being so warm the dogs had their first swim of the year. We also stumbled across a lady managing her hens and bought six freshly laid eggs from her for €1.50.

Wellies required for this muddy seesaw

A private chateau which looked like an artist's retreat

The destination Chateau Digoine was another farcical walking route shown on a board in the village square, but like foolish gluttons for more punishment, we set off. Eventually, dazed, confused, and with the soles of our shoes worn down to our socks the huge house loomed on the horizon. On route two angry labs and a bernese mountain dog the size of an actual mountain came rocketing out of a farmyard. Terrified, we all froze but as the snarling began Tracy spotted a young lad in glasses that were so thick they looked like washed out jam jars. Gormlessly, he just stared at us with the intensity and curiosity of a cow chewing the cud. “Votre chiens” Tracy shouted. “Errr” he grunted “Votre chiens!” she repeated. Eventually and with what sounded like a loud moo he called them back and they retreated (oh what big teeth you have grandma).  

Then to add disappointment to fatigue the chateau was closed for the season, we tromped back home trying to sneak past the fearsome farm as though tip-toeing on rice paper but even this was made difficult as Oddjob decided the farm entrance was a good place to have a poo (the little sod).  

The Chateau Digoine

Scraping ice in the morning and 23 degrees by noon

And yes, this ice did get rolled up and thrown as a snowball

Next stop was Montceau-les-Mines and our lock-keeper was of the miserable variety. At 10.50am he informed us that after the next lock he would be buggering off for lunch and it would be after 1.30pm when we could continue. He didn’t even bother turning up to the next lock and we managed the automatic pull cord all by ourselves. 

More strange street art

After lunch, we were met by two lady lock-keepers who appeared to have been educated at the same charm school as the previous one, brandishing a lengthy remote with many buttons. They managed to open the lock on the ‘wrong-side’ first, which meant that Tracy even using all her strength, couldn’t hold the front of the boat and we went crashing into the opposite wall.

As a result, Tracy hurt her back and was out of action for the five days we were moored in Montceau.

The approach to Montceau-le-Mines

I tried to tempt her out of the boat on the Saturday “there’s a huge market on the quayside” I shouted whilst squinting through the curtains. I was forgetting that Tracy absolutely hates shopping and I got the same reaction as if I was telling her they were barbecuing puppies in the town square.

I ventured out alone and true to form, felt I had been ripped off once more, paying €31 for half a lamb leg. This I vowed would be the last time I would frequent a market this side of the Channel.

The town square at Montceau-le-Mines

Despite the name I am sure it is very nice

Outdoor laundrette, bring your own chairs

Before leaving Montceau we asked the lady capitain about filling with water. Now as lovely and as helpful as she was, I think her arse had been glued to her chair with a piece of chewing gum as she refused to stand up. She motioned with her eyebrows and said use the tap in the toilets. Taking a peek in the toilets I could see it was going to be an intricate plumbing job so armed with a monkey wrench and a pair of pliers I set out about dismantling the pipes so I could connect my hose. It was only when a fellow boater wandered in with his hose and opened one of the cubicles did I spot the tap. I tried to fix up the mangled pipework and pushed a mop bucket up against the worst of the carnage.

The port at Montceau-le-Mines

With only two locks between Montceau and Blanzy our next stop, the lock keeper left us to our own devices and we managed to happily and safely negotiate our way through them. By then Tracy’s new back had arrived from Pilkington glass and she was restored to fighting fit so we cycled back to Montceau to stock up once more from Grand Frais.

The next day we had a snoop around the tiny town of Blanzy and had a long walk down to the reservoir then finished the day off with barbecued turkey kebabs marinated in my home made curry paste whilst watching the sun go down.

The first night spent in Blanzy was a sleepless one as we were on a sloping bank which doubled up as the visitor mooring and made the boat lean like the tower in Pisa.

The mooring at Blanzy

Blanzy used to be a mining town, all closed now but this museum is open (in the season)

The mooching pooches

The lock mooring, not easy getting the dogs on and off due to the high wall and busy road

The next morning we continued ascending and eventually reached the top of the locks at Montchanin at around 11.30am. 

Tracy had asked the lock-keeper where to moor but hadn’t processed the information, so we cruised past the port. I must add, it didn’t look like the official mooring as it was next to a very busy dual carriageway and traveller’s site.

Eventually, we reached the next lock. It was a very narrow spot under a train track and if a commercial boat had come by I doubt whether they could squeeze past. I had no choice but to spend the next two hours reversing back to a midway point next to a lake, a lovely quiet spot as it turned out.

The mooring by the lake in Montchanin

Tracy walking the dogs at the crack of dawn

The next day we had lunch at the waterside café on this stretch, spotting trucks outside the day before we thought it must be good. It wasn’t. The help yourself starter buffet seemed ok although I somehow scooped up a piece of eel with mine that overpowered the whole meal, and the main course was chips with a pastry puffy thing which was as horrible as it sounds. With no wine included and a choice between cheese or dessert, I couldn’t help thinking this particular café had fallen on to hard times. When my cheese arrived, I got three tiny pieces pre-cut. Had we been spoilt in the past or did they just not trust a big fellow like me with an entire cheese board? To add insult to injury, I was burping smoked eel for the rest of the day. 

As we had now reached the very top, we were looking forward to continuing the rest of our journey through the easy downwards locks. The end of the Canal du Centre was looming ahead.

Moorings in Paray-le-Monial

Cost: Free

Facilities: Electricity and water both free (switched off for the winter).

Location: 5 minute walk into town centre with all the usual shops, bars and restaurants. 10 minute cycle to Grand Frais.

Moorings in Palinges

Cost: Free

Facilities: None.

Location: Village 10 minute walk away with an auberge on the canalside.

Moorings in Montceau-les-Mines

Cost: €16.50 for five days including electricity.

Facilities: Electricity. Water switched off on jetty but available from the toilet block

Location: Right in the heart of the town centre with a good selection of shops, bars and restaurants. Grand Frais a five minute cycle ride and a Leclerc hypermarche 10 minutes away.

Moorings in Blanzy

Cost: Free.

Facilities: Electricity and water both free (although water was turned off for the winter).

Location: 5 minute walk to village centre with a limited number of shops.

Moorings in Montchanin

Cost: Free.

Facilities: None.

Location: 20 minute walk into town centre with an Intermarche supermarket and a good selection of other shops.

Please note the comments box does not work, but you can contact us at: werubbedthelamp@gmail.com