The season began in earnest on Friday April 20th. We left our house and it’s wall of possessions behind the day before, allowing ourselves a night at a Gatwick Premier Inn, surprisingly civilised, before flying out. Everything went smoothly, apart from me leaving my phone at security!
A plane, bus and train ride later we arrived at Calliope in Castelnaudary, about an hour before we went out to the local cave on the quay to start celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary.
Next day was a day of gradual unpacking, filling up with water, trying out the new boulangerie that had opened up on the quay, saying hello and goodbye to boating friends, and generally preparing to set off.
I managed to include a walk round the Grand Bassin and the port, discovering the beautiful new boardwalk.
On the Sunday the weather was disappointingly cool and misty, but we cast off by 9 going under the bridge out of the port and hoping to have a clear run at the flight of four St Roche locks out of Castelnaudary eastwards.
This was not to be. Two holiday boats were just starting their first lock experience, making for some entertainment while we waited. And another boat quickly joined the queue behind us!
Soon we were off, with boats in front and boats following, and the 4, sometimes 5, of us continued through the series of locks that lead East towards Carcassonne.
We found a peaceful overnight mooring after about 15 kms and tied up for the night.
There was time for a bit of a walk and gathering of local spring flora photos.
Next day Calliope slipped away into another misty morning, this time at the head of the queue, working our way to one of our favourite places, Villesèquelande.
Another slightly misty morning provided inviting vistas.
Along the way we passed 3 lavoirs – not as interesting as some, but still fascinating in the social community history they hold.
Calliope neatly steered round our first ducklings if the season. Other natural observations were sculptural lines of conifers and cypress and a donkey haven!
Arriving through the bridge at Villesèquelande we found friends aboard Heliox who stepped out to help us moor up. Within a few minutes we had been invited to go that evening aboard the third boat in the row. This led to a walk into the village to discover the new location of the alimentation, and buy some wine and food.
The evening was spent a) with friends, b) helping a grand daughter long distance with a Uni essay, and c) trying not to laugh when the captain lost his footing and dignity with a mighty splash into the canal.
Tuesday was our day to arrive in Carcassonne. The last few kilometres were uneventful and we arrived right on éclusier lunch hour, meaning that we tied up in the warm sun for an hour to wait; very pleasant.
After lunch we passed through the lock and under the bridge that Captain Stu tells is the most difficult for Calliope on this canal. As always he did well and we moored up below the lock.
Stewart was now stuck here for three days while I whizzed back to the UK for a school reunion. We used our evening together to wander up into town and have a beer in the square before supper.
Stu turned out to be less ‘stuck’ than I expected, with friends on board for lunch and discovereding the delights of the Irish Bar and the best boucherie in town (boeuf en gelée). Meantime I regained my adolescence with friends from 50 years ago.
I also regained my phone, sent by Gatwick lost property to my friend’s house in London. Hooray!
While I was away he had to deal with several speeding boat issues, pulling the large wooden bollards out of the ground and bashing Calliope. (Yes, the large pink blob in the corner is my thumb!)
Then I was back to round off our first week back with a perfect evening on the canal. Looking forward to the next bit of cruising, starting tomorrow!
t
Stu and I were then left alone in Moissac for a few days so we ventured out for some local exploring.
We also explored our local riverside, choosing to do this on 14th July, Bastille Day, to avoid too much celebration francaise. We first took the boat downstream to where the Tarn converges with the Garonne – the confluence. It was rather a dull day for such a magnificent aqua-space. (We might go back to try out a little bit of the Garonne, next to the bird sanctuary.)
The silhouettes against the night sky, the peace and quiet, and the fresh air were all totally enjoyable. Hopefully my slightly strange stretched panoramic view captures some of this.
…. on a beautiful day.
We went home to Moissac for a beautiful sky, supper on board, and a Kathryn kaleidoscope.
K&W bought a keg of Desparado beer, made us all a delicious meatball supper, and also made themselves useful with the everyday running of a household on a boat – more good crew!
We were joined for one day by Pam and Jon, friends from portsmouth who were driving by on their way home at the end of their French holiday,. We decided to take a cruise up the Tarn to Ste-Liverade again, where K&W joined me for a swim, and tried out the new ‘rubber ring’ I had bought. Then, after we had all enjoyed the magic scenery for a few hours, back to Moissac for supper together.
The next day was changeover day, saying good-bye to K&W, and hello to Ashley and Harvey who were arriving at the same time! It has been so good to have all these friends and family visiting this year.
We ate on board that night, enjoying a strange light at dusk that settled over the river.
But it was hot, and Harvey and Ashley had had no lunch, so a stop at a village café was the next necessity.
The photo is not of us, but demonstrates what I mean. It was SUCH fun, hanging on for grim death whilst swooshed at speed from side to side across the surface of the water. I was lucky, in the central position. Both A&H were flung off at different times, all to great laughter!
Later on we watched a couple of people try this other ‘thing’ which gave huge water-jet power through boots, pushing the participants more than 10 foot into the air. Harvey was keen to try, but at €60 a go it was somewhat out of reach!
We had such a pleasant day exploring Agen with them, including a proper coffee and croissants breakfast at a café – the first time Stu and I have indulged in that experience.
We had a good wander round the narrow streets and ancient architecture, then down to the Garonne to try out the (relatively) new footbridge. It’s one of those ones that sways a bit as you cross – Stewart preferred to stay on terra firma. From the footbridge we could see the aqueduct that carries the canal over the river – to be crossed by us all the next day.
I was keen to introduce Pieter and Roy to my favourite French restaurant – one that emphasises local produce, everything made in house, and no freezers or microwaves – Monsieur Jeannot. They seemed to approve.
We arrived in Montech in time for a trip to the Tuesday market before setting off after lunch, planning a short trip towards an overnight mooring along the Montech canal.
After only three and a half kilometres we stopped at the little village of Lacourt-St-Pierre where the quay is next to a shady picnic area. Two year old Sofia and I were quickly under the trees with a big bucket of water and lots of pouring splashing implements!
It was soon decided that the whole family needed a cool-down dip. A nearby lake with a ‘beach’ was located, a taxi booked, and before long we were all into the water. It was just what was needed.
The 9 locks were operated by a ‘zapper’; nice and easy on a hot hot day.
In Montauban our berth was ready and waiting, nicely at the end of the port giving us maximum privacy and furthest from the open air bar/restaurant at the other end! Now we had access to the car, so whizzed back to our lake (La plage du lac de Negret) for another swim – and icecream.
Cool and clean we set out for a meal at a lovely little traditional restaurant …..
At the bottom of the Jardin is a little play park for Sofia, where Grandad removed the gravel from Sofia’s sandals before fun on the swings.
As always there was wild life to enjoy at the port at Montauban. I was interested, fascinated, and slightly apprehensive to see this snake swimming in the same canal as I had been, so looked it up on the internet. Phew, just a harmless grass snake – unless you are a frog, small bird ……
Our first mooring was a full 300 yards, across the river to the pontoon at Sapiac.
Looking into the blue blue skies Stewart soon realised that he had left his sunglasses in the car, the other side of the river ….. so it was a convenient time for him to try out the new folding bike. Ho ho, it’s a cyclist in black . . . . We cycled along the river, across Pont Sapiac, and back to the port.
That led us on into the main square, just on ‘beer o’clock’. We sat down and ordered ….. oh dear – when is Stu going to get a beer that is bigger than my wine?????
To celebrate our arrival at Bressols the first sunflower came out, despite the grey skies; it was a pleasant 23 degrees.
Running before the storm was quite exciting in a very safe kind of way – and I managed to get a panoramic photo view as we whizzed downstream.
We could hardly see the other side of the port, just 50 foot away at 4 in the afternoon.
And after the rain, beautiful sunset stormy skies.
We both looked forward to going back down on the Tarn and booked ourselves an early descent through the locks, then cruised upstream to the end of the pound, Corbarieu. It was a bit of a windy mooring, with frequent heavy showers.
As the weather swayed from horrendous to balmy, wet to dry, windy to calm, we enjoyed some more lovely skies – this one looking downstream from our mooring.
They accepted and arrived at the appointed time in the morning, climbed aboard and we were off.
We came into the port and soon found our mooring, and began the clean up job to prepare for our friends Ron and Pauline who were due to arrive next day.
It was hot, so of course Ron and Pauline were thirsty. After a pleasant amble around the narrow shady streets at the heart of Montauban we settled down in the square for a pint – or should I say a 33cl? (Stu sat back just as I took the photo, hence only a glimpse of the Captain.)
Next day we were due to start our return journey to Moissac. It was a beautiful blue and green day, just right to travel slowly up to Month. Pauline and I were keen to have croissants for breakfast and dashed off to the local boulangerie, only to find it is closed on a Tuesday, and no other boulangerie close by. We settled for toast and cereal, a very British breakfast.
The canal can we rather weedy, but the VNF ‘hommes et femmes’ do make an effort to clean it up. We passed the ‘weed grabber’ machine at the side of the canal, next to a big heap of dried out weed.
A lovely lazy dog watched us as we went back past Lacourt-St-Pierre, our overnight stop on the way down. It was that kind of day – enjoy the sun, but do as little as possible when out in it. I am rather taken by the bamboo sun screen for the boat – mental note to get some.
Three happy hot and happy hours after setting off the final bridge and end of the canal were in view, including one of the tall chimneys left for the old paper factory.
It’s a short, gentle canal to cruise; one not to be missed, especially with the delights of Montauban and the Tarn at the end.
We went down the Montech flight, in really really hot sunshine! Then moored up at St Porquier where we put up the parasol and enjoyed the shade. Stu and Pauline got stuck into a word game, Ron read, and I, as usual, took photos!
After a croissants breakfast we were off on the final stretch into Montauban with Ron and Pauline, enjoying the sunflower vistas that opened before us.
We had passed and noticed the Esperance on our Westward voyage, but no graphic evidence survived, so I was pleased to get this photo on the way back. So sad that a barge named Hope is now in this state – but I guess there is still hope that someone will revive her.
Next stop Damazan – one of our favourites. This time Calliope took the shady mooring on the right bank and we looked out towards the bridge and our previous hotspot mooring on the left bank.
Just near the dovecote was another ‘antiquity’ – the old public conveniences! I am pleased to report that they are no longer in official use.
The second lavoir, named L’Escourbet, is out of town on the other side, much more recent, and far less attractive, but I include it here as part of my lavoir report.
Next stop Serignac – another favourite. It was a hot couple of days so we made the most of everything that could contribute to shade!
The two days included essentials such as sorting out a SIM, looking at bikes, and going to the market. It was still hot and we were glad of the innovative cool mist blowers attached to some lampposts.
After a couple of nights our journey East continued. Stewart started to notice small utilitarian concrete structures at the side of the canal and suggested that they were lavoirs. Initially I dismissed his idea, but then on looking closer I saw that there were ‘soap dishes’ built into them and that they were indeed relatively modern urban lavoirs – this one near Boé
But on to Moissac and preparations for family arriving – very exciting as we had been longing to see them. The beautiful bridge over the Tarn came into view and we knew we were nearly there.
We moored up next to all the locks, those up to the canal and aqueduct, and those down to Le Tarn. We looked forward to darkness and coolness falling at the end of the day, as temperatures were still up in the thirties, sometimes 38.
We found a shady mooring half under a bridge near St Porquier for a siesta and a place to dangle our toes in the water – mmmmmmmm! An overnight stop seemed a good idea!
… l’Embranchement de Montech …. the short canal from Montech to Montauban.
A quick interrogation using my simple French ascertained that we could proceed, it was a training exercise , and they had not lost a body in the water. Phew! So over the point-canal sur Garonne. I note with interest that the front garden is starting to take hold . . . 
Morning dawned bright and quiet with such a mirrored surface on the canal that even the fisherman’s rod is reflected – look carefully. The silos may not be so beautiful, but their simple shapes act as a foil to nature, in my opinion.
As so often happens, sundown is a time when ordinary things take on a new shape, beauty and character. At Serignac it was the seats, boulders and waste-bins on the opposite shore that caught my eye.
We walked up to the village, and I mean UP, up those steps in the photo and some more.
We left our lovely mooring below Damazan after only one night because we sought some shade after a high of 38 degrees the day before, but recommend it as a place to go, with its set of small shops and restaurant, friendly people, and massive history.
The canal runs next to la Garonne here and a beautiful bridge crosses them both. Walking half way across gives tremendous views up and down the river – a wide and mighty sight.
It was a hot day; we walked down to the river and found a little ‘beach’ used by locals when the current is not too strong, but I was warned against more that a paddle on that particular day. So cool tootsies only.
We had hoped for a beer in shade of the market place, but despite the bar being open and customers in the square there was no-one serving. After ten minutes of waiting we decided that there was cold beer on the barge and retreated back down the hill, through the old gateway, remarking on the HUGE axe leaning up against the wall outside!
We continued to look for a suitable mooring and eventually found ourselves approaching Meilhan-sur-Garonne – another town perched on a hill that towered above us.
At the little port we saw just the pontoon length to suit Calliope, bow to bow with a beautiful 1903 tjalk. We moored up, checked with Captitain Mike that we were ok, and settled in for the rest of the day.
We passed the port at Fontet, set in an old gravel pit I think; obviously a popular spot and seemed to be in a lovely setting.
The final bief up to the lock into Castets-en-Dorthe is lined with a boats of all shapes, sizes and colours, giving plenty to see as we cruised towards our final écluse of the day.
Working away on the river below us was a small boat collecting debris, from whole tree trunks to small boughs and dead animals, keeping the river clear. It seemed to be a nice gentle job, but I guess it has its moments.
We descended the steep road from the town, looking back up at the old defences.
As we returned along the canal bank to our barge – last in the row – I took a photo along the port and its many ‘live-aboard’ and all year mooring boats; another fascinating collection. Calliope is the little blurred shape at the far end of the row.
From the little Pommevic lock onwards we had our eyes trained forward. We were therefore initially disappointed to see the small pontoon already taken by another boat, and on room for us. However a different, and in many ways better, mooring was in store four kilometres further on at Valence-d’Agen.
It was at Golfech that I finally got to grips with the PK markers on this canal – they are displayed on bridges to the third decimal place – how’s that for French accuracy? Not the only thing to be displayed as you can see.
He decided to edge into the bank spot that we could stop and investigate, requiring an interesting leap ashore with two ropes, a hammer and a spike between the teeth for me – well, sort of! Anyway, once moored up we investigated the weed hatch, which is where I come into my own.
I LOVE clearing weed hatches! And there was quite a lot of weed. Stu tried the engine again – all was quiet so we relaxed into having lunch, then relaxed into liking the mooring, and then stopped three nights!
Another afternoon we walked in the other direction, north to a hilltop village we could see a couple of kilometres away – Claremont-Soubiran. It was quite a climb on a hot day, but an amazing view for the top.
Along a plateau from the village stretches an Italianate looking green, part of the estate around the chateau being to Les Deux Soeurs, who have a vineyard making luxury wines. Unfortunately it was closed for tasting and buying when we got to the top!
At écluse 33, St-Christophe, at Mouynes the ex-lockkeeper’s house was large enough to be converted into a restaurant, probably due to the importance of keeping the river and canal part just along here.
The weather was still trying to make its mind up as we went for a walk to explore the area – mainly a little dormitory town with a big out of town commercial centre. We were doing fine, missing most of the rain, although we did resort to a bus shelter for a few minutes.
By chance Agen was hosting a weekend of music, the Folies Vocales, with seven stages set up through the city and other events inside. We both like music, but with Stu wanting to get back to the boat I stayed on to enjoy some jazz and some blues – at one point the band left the stage and played amongst the audience.
Back to Boé for our second night there, and to prepare for the next day’s move into Agen. Our voyage was to be a short one – just up to Agen basin where we hoped to find the same nice spaces we had spotted the day before; luckily we did.
To reach the city centre we crossed the canal and also the mass of railway lines at Agen station, using a 1930’s footbridge which forbids the ‘circulation’ of bikes and motorbikes. The lovely sign is definitely showing its 80 year old age.
At the market I discovered that there is such a person as a Prunelier, who specialises in all things prune.
And we enjoyed an early beer or two sitting back stage of Texas Martha and her excellent band, watching the Argenaise of all ages dancing, strolling, drinking and chatting in the sun.
We reached the first écluse, Lalande, and moved through without mishap. These locks are brick lined – different to the stone lining we usually see. They also have an overspill taken just above the lock, round into it’s own stream, sometimes trough a mill, and back into he canal below the lock; more of this later.
Ahead of us at the second lock, Lacourtensort, we could see a min-queue of two boats waiting to go down. Stu slowed our speed and we almost drifted along towards the ‘pole-that-we must-not touch-until-those-boats-have set-the-lock-in-motion.’ It seemed to take ages, and when they did finally move ahead into the lock the first seemed to get stuck in the entrance. We watched what we could see through the binoculars, and finally they were in and going down. I turned the lock pole correctly and we moved forward.
There was no waiting at the next écluse; pole turned, lock filled, gates opened, we went in, tied up, button pressed and the gates closed …. almost! We stood in the sun awaiting the descent, but nothing. Just an attractive old lock house and an old Citroen Dianne bleu.
One more lock before we would reach Grisolles, Emballens. We had to wait for a boat coming up so tied our 20m barge against a 4m pontoon and I held her in check until we could proceed.
During our stay at Grisolles we had a grand day out to Montauban, taking the train one grey morning from Grisolles station.
So back to Grisolles – its feeling like home now! But on my return from the UK we will be on the move again, onwards and slightly upwards, in a north westward direction towards Moissac.
Henri had a message for us. I listened carefully. It was obviously important. Eventually, with my hesitant questions, I understood that we could not go much further. The police had closed the canal after the next lock for the day and were searching for a body! OK. We will stop after the next lock for the night.
The Port is fascinating, with a lovely curved brick section that includes the bridges into Canal de Brienne (connection to River Garonne), Canal du Midi and Canal de Garonne reading right to left in the photo above – and these days totally surrounded by motorways, slip roads and dual carriageways. Not good.
Stu aimed through the ‘bouche’ of the Canal de Garonne, and it was truly goodbye to the Midi and on with our journey, and eventful day. Yet to come, and in the next blog, were two ‘en panne’ (not working) locks and more visits from Henri!
goodshipcalliope 
