Strikes and Bumper Cars

The 7 lock staircase at Beziers
[Kyle]About five minutes before 8:00am, a big rental boat came charging past us from up the canal toward the locks, throwing us into the bank. Knowing there were several boats waiting to go through and not wanting to miss our chance, we made our hasty departure.

At the top of the lock, we learned that the boat was a crewed charter and that the locks weren’t opening until 8:30. Our guidebook (which is new) is so outdated. Nothing had happened by 9:00, so one of the crew from the other boat went to check out what was going on. She came back and shouted to us that the lock-keepers were on strike today. Oh, you have got to be kidding me!

By then, there was a pretty big backlog of boats wanting to go through. Our spot on the bank had been taken. We asked a British couple if we could raft up to their barge for the day and they kindly obliged. We went down to try to find out something about it first hand, but just encountered closed doors.

Resigned, we went back to the boat where Maryanne called the place we hoped to have the mast stepped to make sure there would be no delays. All of my buffer time was gone. She’s getting pretty good at French. She got us booked in first thing in the morning on the last day I had available (hoping we would make it). He asked her all kinds of questions about the boat and she handled it very competently. I can hardly follow her French any more.

Maryanne went to double-check the locking times and came back to report that they were filling the locks and she had seen a lock-keeper. She called to him across the lock and asked if they were working today. “Oui.” Came the response accompanied by a look that said, “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Because you weren’t there two hours ago, that’s why! He told her they they were starting the down-lock process at 11:30 today. Okay….

At 11:30, we took up a position nearer the lock. Nothing happened. Then we noticed the boats coming up-lock. Oh, you have got to be kidding me again!!

We tied to a ring and a piece of a bar sticking out of a cliff and sat back for the show. A rental boat with a party crowd came up from behind, realized he was out of room and attempted to turn around with the usual too much power. He was hitting everything. It took all of my strength to keep them from stripping the dinghy off. Everybody was yelling “Slow down! Ralentissez!”

Realizing we weren’t going anywhere until the post-lunch down cycle, we had a big lunch and watched the show, occasionally getting up to fend someone off that strayed into us. Our favourite was the drunken guy in the gift store captain’s hat with the crew in matching t-shirts. In addition to the usual bumbling, he made a point of saluting everybody he saw, while his crew toasted everyone.

Finally, our turn came to go down. We shared the lock with the guy who had blasted past us first thing and a very pushy German who forced his way to the front of the line after taking the commercial dock for himself for the wait.

The impatient lock-keepers started draining as soon as we cleared the doors. By the time I had my line sorted out, the boat was too low to jump aboard. There were no ladders. We tagged off and now Maryanne was Captain. It’s good to have someone aboard who knows what she’s doing.

When that locking was through, the German used his boat to push the charter boat out of the way so he could be first. During the emptying of the lock, his boat moved backwards as ours moved forwards and the tip of our mast made contact with his flag. It didn’t break the pole or anything, just brushed the flag. It must be considered some kind of act of war for an American boat to touch a German flag, because he removed his flag and gave us the stink-eye for the rest of the Foncérannes locks, and the two after.


Leaving Beziers
We got left behind on subsequent smaller locks, which allowed the party boat to catch up, requiring lots of panicky fending until they peeled off somewhere to do some partying.


Flood protection and thrill rides on route
After a few hours, In spite of the very late start, we arrived at Agde, the last lock before we leave the canal and head back to sea. We arrived after the last locking in our direction, so we headed out to see the town. I don’t know that I was really expecting much of Agde. A had only seen it on a map as a series of road lines and blotches for populated areas or parks. It turned out to be just wonderful. The city was founded by the Greeks 2700 years ago and looks every bit of it. Most of the streets were narrow enough that I could almost touch both sides at the same time and were organized in an incomprehensible rabbit’s warren. Things were crumbly in that agreeable French way. Maryanne called it derelict chic (Dérélicte! – That’s for you, Kate). We found a restaurant (with amazing pizza!) that offered free unlimited wifi on the way home and camped out for the evening.


First Views of Agde

Caves and Tunnels

[Kyle]We only had one lock to go through today about a mile from Argens-Minervois. After that, the canal has its longest stretch (54km) with none. Without the impediment of the locks we were able to cover much more distance, which in turn let us relax a bit about the need to always keep moving. Our first stop after the lock was Ventenac-en-Minervois, where there is a huge waterside wine cellar (Cave in French) dedicated to the local Minervois wines. Here, it is possible to buy wine by the litre from a tap attached to the tanks, like pumping gas at a service station for €1.20/liter. Our barrel was buried at the back of the locker with the hedge trimmers and stump grinders, so we settled for a couple of boxes of different types. We also bought a bottle of a nice rosé that the little card by the bottle said, “Is best served at 10 degrees Celsius with local pork or poultry on summer picnics” So…not with M&Ms, then? The wine cellar at Ventenac-en-Minervois, with a small sample of what was available to purchase there We had lunch at an outdoor restaurant, where Maryanne was finally able to get Moules Frites (Mussels with Fries), which she has been wanting forever. The wind had really picked up by then to the point where it became necessary to weigh down everything on the table to keep it from flying away. At least it was clear and sunny again. We arrived back at Footprint to find her with her with the screacher track pinned beneath the bow of a giant Le Boat, which was, in turn under the end of our mast. We had deliberately moved to the front of the empty quay with the thought that it should reduce the chances of us getting hit by 50% over being in the middle. The quay was still empty with space for about four boats behind, but these idiots had wedged themselves in ahead of us so close that the boats were rubbing against each other. Since there were no more bollards forward, he had tied to the forward bollard and a road sign. When I walked forward to see if he’d damaged the track (he hadn’t), he said, “Aw, they just kissed a little, that’s all.” in a distinctly American accent. Ugh. Seeing the way most of these guys drive, I highly doubt their landing was the least bit gentle. We left and continued along the canal. The canal is able to avoid the use of too many locks in this section by following the contour lines of the increasingly hilly terrain. It also provides for some spectacular views of the countryside. The long section with no locks also meant that we were seeing a lot more charter boats as well as a few giant hotel barges that seem too big for the locks. The barges weren’t a problem except for their sheer size, but the increasing number of rental boats, combined with the narrow, winding canal sections made for some pretty exciting moments. When passing opposite direction traffic, we would get over as far as we dared to the bank to allow room for the other traffic. Often, we would end up stopping, lying against the bank, entangled in tree branches. When the other boat passed, we would turn and see that they had stayed right in the middle of the canal. The only major tunnel on the Canal du Midi, luckily you can see the exit as you enter, so we were hopeful a Le Boat would not enter once we were in it! Maryanne guessed that the Le Boat briefing about oncoming traffic went something like, “Just stay in the middle. They’ll get out of your way.” Which is undoubtedly true for the same reason that drivers give way to big trucks even though they have right of way. Le Boat guys don’t care one bit about the state of their rented gel-coat. Every time I passed one of them, I’d swear I wasn’t giving way next time, as we were the downstream vessel with right of way (which I’m sure they didn’t know). Let them go into the bank and wait. Every time, I’d see them spot us, turn the wrong way (as in towards us. It’s a wheel for Christ’s sake, like a car) and then start this zigzagging dance of over correcting with too much power. The only sensible thing to do was give up and dive into the bushes ourselves. There was one 2km section that was narrow enough to be designated as one way, with the upstream traffic required to reverse into a refuge in order to let the downstream traffic pass. That is, of course, the plan. The reality was much more bush diving. Homes of all kinds Arriving at Béziers for the night, we found every available space with bollards taken. After much searching, we found a reasonable enough spot on the bank we could stay, tying to roots on the bank. We were glad we’d had the previous night’s experience in Argens-Minervois. We made the most of the remaining light and had a brief walk along the canal before retiring for the night. Just before I checked the times for the Foncérannes flight of seven locks that were next. It turned out they started an hour earlier than usual at 8:00, running each direction for an hour and a half. I’m glad we checked. Beziers town on the hill, and the moving part of the water slope, an alternative to the multiple locks no longer used

Automatons and Medieval Towns on the Canal

[Kyle]While I prepared Footprint for departure, Maryanne headed off to the Boulangerie for our breakfast. Baked goods in France are all amazing, but they go rock-hard after a few hours so they have to be bought right out of the oven. Maryanne had a good back and forth with the gentleman about what she wanted and “what do you call these”. At the end, he asked her if she was going to be there Saturday. She said no, she was leaving right away, so he popped two extra rolls in the bag. It wasn’t until she was retelling the story to me that we realized it was Saturday already.

At the first lock, we encountered a rental boat with a group of people from Vancouver, Washington – right across the Columbia River from Footprint’s hailing port of Portland, Oregon. We did the secret handshake then asked them about their trip. They had just picked up the boat from Carcasonne late the night before. This was their first lock – ever. Then we showed up and they had to try to squeeze in with a huge catamaran. To their credit, I would rate their performance as better than the rentals coming back from their last day. We were both going down, so the two boats just sat quietly next to each other as the water drained. After the first lock, the guy at the helm asked us to exit first. We did and were tucked way in the front when they arrived at the next lock so they’d have plenty of room. They did fine, but I could tell they were really worried about hitting us. Maryanne and I weren’t too concerned. The guy at the helm seemed to know what he was doing. He took it nice and slow instead of trying to save a bad situation with gobs of power, making it worse. We had lots of people to fend and those rental boats are fendered up like a fat kid at the beach with an inner tube around his waist.

At lock #3, a triple, they were right on our tail when we came around the corner and spotted the lock. We entered, looked back and they were gone. We waited a bit, but they never showed. I think the thought of three locks in a row with another boat got to them.

We passed through Trèbes, a really nice looking village and home to a Le Boat rental base. We considered tying up for a little while until we saw the show. One Le Boat backed out in front of us so we had to duck in behind another private boat moored at the quay to keep from getting hit. A Le Boat coming the other way tried to turn into its slip and ended up bouncing its way along the moored boats on the other side of the canal. It really ploughed into the boat we had hid behind. A small, tanned old man emerged and smiled at us. He seemed to take it pretty well. He had three fenders protecting him from the wall and about twenty on the Le Boat side.

We continued to the next lock where we got to see more of the same thing while we waited for our turn. Things would go wrong, the person at the helm would panic, turn the helm the wrong way and gun it, then randomly bounce around in the lock until one of the bounces happened to end up at the open gate. For some, this even seemed to be the technique. We were grateful to lock through alone.

Going through alone actually increases one’s chances of being alone at the next lock as it allows the others in front to get further ahead and the boats behind fall further behind. That and weather that became increasingly miserable kept the rest of the locks clear for us for the day. The day had started out gray and a little windy. We had hoped it would burn off later, but it only got worse as the day wore on, becoming very windy and raining occasionally. Maryanne noted that we were already getting soft. In Preston, this would pass for nice weather, since it was still 23C (73F).


A lock-keeper with skill and a sense of humour
A couple of locks later, we came across a fun lockkeeper. He was a metal sculptor – mostly kinetic - who had turned the entire lock area into a gallery of whimsy. There were figures with propane tank heads, a naked woman riding a bicycle, a pig roasting a human on a spit and many others. Almost everything had been turned into something else. His control box was a stick-figure man with a door at the back of the head to push buttons. My personal favourite was a full sized lockkeeper on the most upstream gate. When the motor operated sluice #1, the metal man would crank way the way lockkeepers used to. When we left, a wooden alligator greeted us on the weir wall. Now there’s a guy who does more with his down time than think up more ways to make a dour face.

On the last lock of the day, we bought cherries grown in the lock house garden and ate them on the way to our stop for the night; the forgotten little village of Argens-Minervois.

We had originally planned to stop for fuel since we had not taken on any since Agen and we were getting a bit low. Argens-Minervois was supposed to be one of the few places on the canal that actually ran fuel to the dock, sparing us of the need to lug jerry cans to the nearest service station. Like most of the others, this turned out to be outdated information. There was also no service station for miles. Oh, well.

As we approached the town, we saw that it was built on a hill with some sort of grand structure at the top. It seemed an agreeable enough place, so we decided to pull in for the night.

The place has almost nothing in the way of docking facilities. There is no wall, no quay, and no harbor. The only accommodation is a few bollards driven into the ground on the bank for attaching lines. We were a little concerned with this. We had so far seen lots of moorings on grassy banks that on closer inspection sat over a rocky bottom.

We lifted the rudder nearest the bank and approached very slowly. We heard no crunch as we contacted the long grass growing out of soft mud. It was a bit of a jump but otherwise seemed like a pretty secure spot.

We had a walk around the pretty town. The grand structure on the hill turned out to be just a big decaying apartment building (centuries old, not recent). The town was a strange mix. A lot of the buildings had portions that were decaying to the point that the wind was going right through crumbling walls and grass was growing inside. These were interspersed with newly renovated sections. There were several residences that were just small apartments tucked into the back corner of otherwise entirely abandoned buildings.


Exploring small villages
The town itself had little visible means of support. There were a couple of shops selling wine a couple of days a week, but otherwise no commerce. I couldn’t help but wonder who the people were that owned these places.

The wind picked up even further until it was blowing like crazy all night. Our mooring seemed nice and secure though. We didn’t budge at all, but in the morning we were all covered in seed.

Exploring Carcassonne - amazing

Finally, away from the boat and exploring France!
[Kyle]We had another whole day here. Naturally, we started at the boulangerie and got some walking around food. We then grazed by picking up an item here and an item there until we had all of the ingredients for a picnic in La Cité. Our last purchase was a 1.5l bottle of local wine in a plastic bottle of the type used for water for something like €2. I was worried it might be a bit rough, but all of the wine we’ve had in France has been really nice.

La Cité had a different feel with throngs of tourists in, all buying anything and everything that says Carcassonne on it, but it is still an enthralling place. We bought tickets to explore the inner fortress within the fortress, the Château Comptal, which included access to the outer rampart walls. This was all interesting in its own right, but access to the outer walls meant access to amazing scenery, which we all know I love.

It was hot and we were pretty beat after seeing as much as we could, so we beat a hasty retreat back to the new city. We did some stocking up at both the supermarché and the outdoor market, the latter of which had the best cherries both of us agree we have ever eaten, then we escaped the heat of the worst part of the afternoon with a nice siesta.

We got up in the late afternoon and went trolling around for Internet again, trying every place in town we could think of, but again finding ourselves with no other alternative than darn McDonald’s. When they kicked us out at closing, we took a walk through the nearly empty city to one of the bridges where we could see La Cité all floodlit one last time before returning to the boat.

Finally, some time to explore

More canal locks from the 1600's
[Kyle]We were ready at 9am, but another boat arrived from the other side of the lock at about the same time, and the lock was setup to receive a rising boat, so we waited until he had locked through.

This section of the canal has locks very close together. You can often see the next one as you exit each lock. It is also very windy with hairpin bends, and lots of opportunities to surprise other boats. We had to do two panic stops to keep from hitting other boats coming the other way through bridges. Why does it always happen at bridges?

We got to one lock just as the lockkeeper’s lunch started. He initially tried to wave us out, but finally conceded to let us have our lunch in the lock. We had it in the cockpit with the waterfall noises of the lock in the background.

At the last lock before Carcassonne, we had to wait for a tour boat packed with passengers to lock up. It was their first one. The lock keeper had a little fun with them and opened all four sluices at once, making a pretty impressive waterfall for the little old ladies in the front seats. As they went to exit, they got turned sideways and dinged their prop on the wall, putting them out of commission. If we wanted to lock down, we would have to find a way to squeeze in with them. It was a very, very tight fit, but Maryanne and I managed to play it cool and make it in without touching anything – like we have a tour boat with us every time. We were glad we got through when we did. That lock was going to be backed up for a while.


Footprint makes it to Carcassonne
We arrived at Carcassonne, tied up at a reasonably nice spot by the train station and headed out to look for La Cité – the old part of Carcassonne and the largest fortress in Europe. La Cité is so old, in fact, that all of the history starts with it already being here in Roman times 2500 years ago. It has gone through many hands since then and has been modified a few times, the most recent of which was a complete restoration in the 18th century.



Dinner in a Fairy tale castle - wow!
I would try to describe La Cité, but I can’t. It is right out of a fairy tale, like Brugges or Conwy Castle. Most of the tourists in Carcassonne arrive as day-trippers. By the time we were wandering around La Cité, it was nightfall and there were only a few dozen of us stragglers left. Maryanne wanted to see the gardens at the Hôtel de la Cité, so we strolled through like we were guests and parked ourselves at a bench overlooking the ramparts of the outer wall and watched the sunset. We later found out rates there start at €450/night. We then went to a crêperie and had a delicious dinner of crêpes (mine was smoked salmon, hers was Emmental), a local rosé, ice cream and really strong, tiny coffee.

STILL not impressing any canal experts!

Oh, if only we could have brought the car!
[Kyle][Maryanne] The day started with a double lock, which the lock keeper filled way too fast to be comfortable. The speed wheel on the boat was measuring about 4kt as she filled the lock and we struggled to keep the boat from hitting the opposite walls. She showed no concern and made no effort to help us, nor slow the flow, and at the same time seemed to be arguing with her boss who had arrived for some reason. Neither of them seemed interested in our struggles.

[Kyle]While trying to keep the boat straight in the heavy flow, the stern wondered over to the other side and caught a back eddy, pulling harder than I could resist. I leaned over further and further until I ended up on my butt being dragged helplessly towards the bollard, where I planted both feet and tried to keep from letting go of the line. At other places we have been, like the Scottish locks, if such a problem had arisen the keeper would have quickly closed the sluices to reduce the water flow and calm things down until all was again under control. I was desperately hoping she would do the same thing but she stood stone faced the whole time – not her problem I guess! Eventually I knew my only hope for relief would come when the lock was closed to full and the flow slowed down naturally. I wasn’t sure I could hold out that long and called to Maryanne for help, although she was also struggling, she mercifully managed to help take some of the strain and gain a better angle on the lines to secure the boat.

The next lock was also a lady keeper, and was tranquil and easy, and there was lots of offers to help to take lines and generally chat to us. Chalk and cheese!, as Maryanne says.



It was this day we reached the peak of the canal altitude and we exited our last up lock (the Ocean lock), followed a tranquil stretch of water, and then entered our first down lock (the Mediterranean lock)… Oh how we appreciated the down locks, there are the same problems of entering, but there seem to be no real currents or eddies as the water empties, and it is an easy, relaxing process without any of the stress we’d had in many of the earlier up locks. And it’s down hill all the way from here!

The weather was clear and sunny, almost too hot (mid 30’s C all day, and no shade at all once we left the cockpit).

We were starting to notice some strange engine noises (exhaust noises actually) and although the boat seemed to be performing at normal speed, no overheating or signs of trouble from the gauges, the water outflow wasn’t as strong as we were used to. We started mentally considering what the problem might be while I kept an eye on the temperature gauge to be sure.

The highlight of the day was to be Castlenaudry, a beautiful town where we planned to spend a couple of hours wondering about and also getting groceries and fuel (fuel is very difficult to find on the canal). Naturally we couldn’t find the fuel station mentioned in our guidebook (we hadn’t realized it was so out of date when we purchased it), and we eventually tied up on the town wall anyway to be told the fuel station was long closed, and we couldn’t stay at this dock. We snapped some pictures. Performed a quick check of the water strainer (empty? That was a surprise) and the impeller (no problem) and moved on.



Medieval Castlnaudry
The exit from Castlenaudry requires us to descend a quadruple lock. The green light was on as we rounded the bend, but the lock doors were closed (strange). We tied up the boat again and Maryanne went to investigate. Another chat (in French, we’re getting there) revealed we were waiting for 3 boats to lock up through the 4 locks and then we could go down, but we’d have to hurry there were plenty of other boats waiting to get up. We got the distinct impression that the lock keeper was doing us a favor by letting us down at all.. We amazed ourselves by passing through those 4 locks without a bump, hitch, missed bollard, or issue in just 16 minutes; the doors were being closed on us as we entered, it was a slick operation on our part and that of the lock keeper from his military like control tower. Normally we expect a single lock to take about 20 minutes, we must have broken some record!

There were plenty of places in the canal where the rudders touched bottom and kicked up, and we were very careful only to reverse in the center of the channel, or only when lifting the rudder nearest to the shore (reversing will most certainly break the rudders, which are designed to kick up if they hit the bottom, but only when we are moving forwards). Apart from that, and our concern over the engine cooling water outflow, it was an easy afternoon of the canal and very pretty too. We pondered the problem more about the engine and decided something must be blocking the water intake under the boat, and the only way we knew to clear it was for someone (??) to get in the water and inspect it. Since water was getting through, and no problems were showing on the gauges or with the speed, we decided to leave it until we docked for the night.

I asked for volunteers and Maryanne naturally took a step back, so I reluctantly volunteered myself to take the plunge. I stripped off to my shorts and used the stepladder to descend until I could stand on the bottom. My face made a very ‘o’ shape, and I didn’t have to tell Maryanne that that water was a shock, cold! Eventually I acclimatized. Maryanne ‘helped’ by saying I may as well get on with it so I didn’t have to spend too long in the cold water and handed me some improvised poking and pulling tools. The intake was definitely blocked and I pulled numerous twigs and weeds before finally finding the problem – a big chunk of something that I couldn’t get out.

My attempts to pry the thing lose only seemed to force it further into the hole, so eventually it became necessary for me to give up under the boat, dry off, and work from inside the boat. I disconnected the hose, opened the sea cock to get some back pressure on the offending object and fished around in the flood waters until a piece of wood almost exactly the diameter of the hose popped out like a champagne cork – suddenly letting in a LOT of water, luckily I was right beside the valve handle and could close it off. It is a real testament to the cooling system on the boat that the engine was able to maintain normal temperature with just 20% of the cooling water flow.

Selling our souls to the Wifi Devil

[Kyle]We deliberately delayed our start to the day in order to await the opening of the port office to complete our clamouring Internet needs, expecting not to be delayed much more than half an hour. Of course the office didn’t open on time, then there were more pressing priorities for the captain that didn’t include turning on the internet for us, eventually it was concluded the internet didn’t work and it sometimes was just like that in the mornings… Doh! We’d wasted 2 hours. The port captain knew of no other place locally we could expect to find Internet, so Maryanne suggested McDonalds (certainly all British McDonald's have internet, but I wasn’t sure of the French ones).. “Oui, Oui, definitely”, was the response.

So with our hand held GPS we set off to find the local McDonald's which was only 1.5 km away, however being on the opposite side of the canal with no conveniently placed bridges we’d need to walk 4.5km each way. Our day was disappearing in admin. I of course detested the idea of using McDonald's for anything (this year will be the 30th of my personal boycott and I’m convinced that the loss of my valuable business will be bringing them to their knees shortly). We’d attempted several short-cuts, but all dead-ended and resulted in us just needing to walk further, so we eventually resigned ourselves to the full distance. Along the way we checked for wifi signals, and passing one of the chain of Lidotel(s), finally found one for 3€ after about 2km of walking. Expect your local McDonald's to be closing soon! I was able to book my train ticket and put in my June bid for work, Maryanne caught up a little on banking, but we didn’t want to spend too much time, so after all the critical internet work was complete, we headed off back to the boat.

This time we avoided any ‘short-cuts’ and walked via the direct route along the canal/cycle path, inspecting the barges tied up alongside. From the shore the barges seemed even more curious. While not officially sanctioned by the authorities, barges are allowed to remain moored provided they can be moved if there is any need for maintenance along the bank. Many of them appeared to have a permanent plot with flowers planted, fencing, tool sheds, BBQs etc. installed on the bank. There was a jury rigged electrical system running through the trees that fed power to more or less all the boats, some even had water hookups, and at the end of each section there was even mail boxes. This all seemed beyond the ‘we won’t bother you if you don’t cause any trouble’ attitude by the authorities and well into acceptance of being a neighbourhood in its own right. At the end of the walk I had so many questions for the peniche owners (was their power metered? Did they have an address?).

We eventually arrived at the marina and discovered instantly that the wifi was back on! We could have stayed and waited, but we were too unsure to take the chance. We finally cast off about 12:30, and would have ideally left around 8:30. Such is life.



Our first lock of the day was a double one at Castanet. From our direction Castanet represents the first of the original 17th century oval shaped canal du midi locks (the others to this point were more modern upgrades).

This was also the first we expected (perhaps) our instructions would be good for. I would need to drop off Maryanne somewhere conveniently on the canal before the lock and she would have to make her way to the lock and press the buttons to adjust the water level and open the doors to let me in. She disappeared for a while, a bit too long, and eventually returned having decided that the automatic lock was closed for lunch (motors need a break too!). This confused us since the automated locks on the canal de Garonne hadn’t closed for lunch, but this was the only obvious explanation. At 1:30 a lock keeper arrived to press his own buttons and the gates opened.


Coming from rectangular locks the oval ones were quite daunting to us, the curved sides meant the corners of the boat would take the impact of any mistakes and sharp turns are required into the lock to make it in and out of the narrow entrances, Because the locks also had greater volume for their length, they took longer to fill, and the swirling pattern of the water was very different. The one upside was the diffusion caused by the widening lock seemed to reduce turbulence significantly at the back while filling with water. It was quite stressful and for the first few of these locks there was a little yelling between us as we each ‘assumed’ the other was doing something they knew nothing about.

That same trip, we finally found a lock that seemed to (on some level) represent our instruction pamphlet, but the doors would not close. Maryanne called on the intercom system for help (in French, so very basic) and thought that they guy was coming to fix it, but wasn’t 100% sure of his side of the conversation. 10 minutes later he arrived and went through of a process of pressing buttons in various locations all to no avail, about an hour later we finally exited that lock, glad of the help to hand.



Eventually we felt that we were getting used to the locks, remind ourselves that we love each other, and that we were a team, and even had time to enjoy the view of the Canal Chapel at one. When we finally made it to the end of the line for the day, we were glad to crack open a couple of quality German beers that our friend from Preston, Klaus, had given us before we left – cheers to the end of a stressful day!