goodshipcalliope

Canal du Nord – bottom to top!

Almost five and a half years ago we arrived in France on Calliope at the mouth of La Somme. This was our introduction to boating in Europe, and when at the end of La Somme we turned right onto the Canal du Nord we thought we were really now among the big barges of the continent. We scuttled down to Pont Leveque, looking at the ‘huge’ freycinet barges in awe, and glad to be off this mighty canal at the end.

We certainly gained experience in those years, in the size of locks, of barges, and of waterways in general. Good experience, that we have enjoyed hugely.

We have also found out more about the canal itself, started in 1908 to allow better transportation of coal; halted and the work partially destroyed during WW1; not re-started until after WW2; finally opened in 1966. It is the only canal built in France to the intermediate dimensions between the Freycinette and the huge modern barges.

And now soon to be abandoned when the new Seine-Nord Europe canal is open to traffic. Its is all rather sad – a 95 kms canal through great countryside, so needed 60 years ago and already defunct.

So when, on September 8th, we slipped our ropes at our Pont L’eveque mooring and went through the lock (putting our trusty remote control into the required letterbox) we went with a bit more confidence, but still humbly. If we have learned one thing in life it is not to be smug!

We would be getting used to a different style of lock again – always interesting – how will the bollards be spaced, both on then quay and down the wall; will there be floating bollards; will the lock movement be fast or slow; how do we contact the lock keepers to say we are coming through????? This one, at Libermont, is smaller than some at the Northern end.

Nonetheless this canal calls for our Nautic Talk sets again! I was against having these, but now find them so useful when we have to move back and forth in a lock to allow us each to move ropes down the bollards in the wall – they are rarely spaced so that we are directly in front of a set forward and aft!

It took us 5 days cruising to go from the bottom to the top – albeit they were short days! We rather like to set off at about 0930 and arrive at our next mooring between 1200 and 1300, in time for lunch. Then we have a relaxed afternoon and evening to enjoy whatever surroundings our mooring offers us.

So here are our stops, and any adventures worth reporting.

1. Port L’Ercheu – we stopped at this mooring, way out int the country, on our way South 5 years before. We don’t know why it is called a port, because if is a relatively short quay miles form anywhere. There was a village of Ercheu in the past, obliterated in WW1.

It was a hot when we arrived – a beautiful day for swimming and for washing down the decks! The water at the top of the canal is beautiful – so clear – and hasn’t had a chance to be polluted. It felt very good to swim in it.

On the way to Ercheu we went through the first of the two tunnels on the canal. Panneterie is only 1 kilometre long, getting boaters set up for the 4.5 kms tunnel ahead! Five years ago it was our first tunnel in Calliope, so approached with some apprehension, but this time it was quite straightforward.

But perhaps the most interesting thing about the tunnel was being told before we went in that there was a a boat in distress at the other end, with divers down in the water. So we would have to stop.

It turned out to be a Dutch working barge that had got rope so badly twisted around its propellor that divers were called out to cut it off – and even they found it a tough job.

We waited in the shade, wishing we could help, and having our lunch.

Back to Ercheu – just to include one memory of the serene sunset we enjoyed up there amongst the fields.

2. Péronne – the next stop was also one we had used on the way South. It is a small port so we had phoned ahead to make sure there was space for a 65 foot peniche like us. There was, so PMT (Pre Mooring Tension) removed for the day!

The journey there was uneventful, apart from a small slow visitor, a change of scenery, and a new style of lock gate – so maybe uneventful after all!

There are long mostly empty quays on the canal at Péronne, but these are subject to quite a lot of wash from the commercial barges who work long hours. So we went into the little port there, next to and run jointly with a camp site. The entrance is slightly tricky due to some shallow water, but it is marked with tall red poles and with Stu taking it slowly we were soon moored up on a pontoon.

The channel in is quite deep and relatively clear of weed, but to the side the weed grows thickly from the bed, spreading fingers this way and that as the flow changes.

The setting is quite rural; in fact the main, interesting and historic, town is a good kilometres walk, but well worth the effort.

We tied up behind a cruiser belonging to some new UK friends (met briefly at Pont L’Eveque) and were able to get too know them better over a glass or three of wine later that evening.

We walked into Péronne, being in need of food and drink. I tried to resist taking photos but these three give an indication of the town – the typically Northern French town hall, the bullet marked church, and the more ancient fortifications. There are plenty of information boards around the town, in English as well as French; a place to gain some history lessons.

Next morning I did walk back into town, for fresh baguette and for flamische, the local speciality – a kind of leek pie. I went looking at a boulangerie; a mistake. A helpful French lady took me to a little butcher and charcuterie in a side street where I found good flamische. Yum!

I also came away with some of his dried ham, local beer, and paté de tête, shown here on his wonderful butcher’s paper.

And I did remember the bread too.

Back on board Captain was ready to cast off and reverse back onto the main canal, keeping those red marker posts carefully to one side.

3. Ytres, southern end of Ruyaulcourt Tunnel. We had come down from the Panneterie tunnel towards Péronne and the Somme basin, so now we needed to climb once more, up 5 locks to the Ruyaulcourt tunnel. We were pleased to find the first lock being prepared for us, and with no other boat in sight we went in and took possession, choosing a nice central position where we could use bow and stern ropes.

A fair amount of rapid French on the VHF and shouting down into the lock alerted us to the fact that a commercial barge was approaching and we would need to move to the front of the lock – not our preferred position!

I think this is the lock where the new method of roping was deployed – my rope brought back from the bow to the first bit back, round a wall bollard, then to the second bit back.

Here I made a turn so that Captain could drive against it and keep Calliope in position – because there were no bollards within reach for the stern rope.

Each time I needed to take the rope up to the next level Stu slackened the drive on the rope, I made as quick a change as I could, and then back to driving against it.

All this with Anti-lope, a big commercial barge, breathing down our necks, in a friendly kind of a way!

It worked a treat, although I am glad we had our communication devices for this!

When we came out of that first lock of the day we let the commercial barge go ahead of us – so that we could follow her into each of the next 4 locks. Although we still needed to use our new roping system it was easier to do at the back of the lock, at least for us.

The afternoon saw Anti-lope disappear into the Ruyaulcourt tunnel, and us stop for the night.

What an incredibly magical place to stop. Probably we were not far from human habitation, but the cut leading into the tunnel isolated us from all around.

The wild life – we saw deer, a hare, many butterflies. birds we could identify and some that we couldn’t, picked blackberries and generally enjoyed the peace.

This photo gives a sense of the scale of isolation we had – Calliope is moored up at the end of the quay and I am standing just above the tunnel.

Mind you it did not feel quite so isolated when this beautiful barge full of scrap metal came in to moor in front of us while waiting her turn through the tunnel. She came in SO close to us I thought that she must touch Calliope – but despite how it looks in the photo she didn’t!

Later our new cruising companions arrived and this time we were able to go aboard their boat, Libellule, and strengthen the friendship.

And so to bed.

4. Sains-les-Marquion (2 nights) The following day would take us to our last mooring on the Canal du Nord for this year – maybe for ever, depending on when it is closed.

Our day obviously began with a trip through the Ruyaulcourt tunnel. It is a great tunnel – wide enough to make it easier than usual for the Captain, good lighting, and of the 4.35m length there is a section of just over a kilometres in the centre of double width, allowing barges to pass and this increasing the traffic through.

We were out into bright sunshine, open country and farmland, five locks down, and passing canal traffic.

After a few hours Calliope came to the Sains-les-Marquion mooring – well spaced yellow topped bollards, hidden in long grass! But we found them. And later Libellule glided in behind us too.

I liked mooring there – most walkers and cyclists were on the other side of the canal where there is a better pathway, so quite private.

(It makes me sound a bit snooty and a loner! Really I am neither, but it is nice to have a bit of space to oneself isn’t it?)

It was a great time fo year to be out walking. The butterflies were plentiful, the teazels at their statuesque best, and, for me, plenty of farmland to look out over. But apart from my walk we had a gentle relaxing day after all the locks and the tunnel. In fact we felt so good here that we decided to stay for a second, whilst Libellule continued on their journey.

In the morning we went over the canal to see the actual village of Sains-les-Marquion.

It is a small village with farming at its heart – more so in the past, but still tractors and cows to be seen.

Here are some of the cows – I like cows!

The white ones are the marvellous French Charolais, famed for the beef that is produced from them. I think that the young brown calves are Limousin, but I am not sure. Please correct me!

And here is a small taste of some of my favourite parts of the village. It seems that there was a big grand house through the old wrought iron gates in the past, with quite a large set of farm buildings close by. The white house at the bottom is in a different set of grounds – but all is speculation as I have not been able to find much history of the village on line.

Before we leave this mooring – our last on the Canal du Nord – I must include some of the superb skies that gathered around us.

These two up towards the hills behind the mooring.

Looking from the mooring over the canal towards Sains-les-Marquion – the church steeple can just be picked out in each one.

We did moor up once more before we left Canal du Nord – just before the lock at Marquion, some 500 yards from where we had moored the night before!

Not too long too wait for the lock to be ready for us and a following freycinet before we continued our ‘avalant’ (downward) journey.

The locks continued to keep us alert – rarely the same configuration of bollards twice in a row – but, without being smug, we had by now mainly got a system for each.

We were counting down the kilometres until we would join the Canal de la Sensée at Arleux.

Not because we were keen to leave this soon-to-be lost canal, but because we were looking forward to reaching Lille in a few days time and meeting up with sone of the family.

It was not long before we were at our final lock on the Canal du Nord journey – Palluel – our final 6.2m down from the heights.

As in the previous lock that morning we followed a commercial barge – enough room for us both with us hanging in at the back with our new roping technique.

The junction with the Sensée is big and wide, as one would expect with the amount of commercial traffic, both freycinet and ‘giant’ size, that passes through.

We joined our new canal following Vanguard, the turquoise barge we had followed through the last two locks.

So endeth the Canal du Nord for us. Will we get to travel it again before it closes? I don’t know – certainly parts of the big new canal are due to open next year and maybe that will mean the the Nord’s closure. For us, on that day, it was on down the Sensée looking for the Scarpe Superieure, towards Arras, where we planned to spend one night just off the big waterways. And that will be the start of the next blog. 😊

A short trip East to West on 3 canals

Canals Sambre, Saint Quentin and Lateral à L’Oise

5th to 7th September 2021

It took just two days cruising to go the final three and a half kilometres on the Canal de la Sambre from Beautor, the seven and a half kilometres on the Canal de Saint-Quentin to Chauny, and the eighteen kilometres on the Canal Lateral à L’Oise to Pont-L’Évêque. It could easily have been done in a day, but much more pleasant to take our time, see another town, and take in the scenery.

We were soon along the short final part of the Canal de La Sambre and into a wide junction with the Saint Quentin where the blue of the sky almost met the blue of the canals.

We looked towards the section of the Saint Quentin going north, which includes the tunnel that boats are towed through. We have never fancied that, hearing a mix of the tales, good and bad, of boaters experiences.

We were gong fore the Canal du Nord, with its two tunnels, both under self propulsion!

I like to take photos of the different lock keeper house styles from canal to canal. Each canal ends to have one style of house along its length – perhaps now and then a large one for the lock keepers who had extra duties.

This one on the Saint Quentin is quite small. I like to imagine who used to live there, with their family, and what their lives were like. Not os bad on a day like this with sunshine and blue sky – but less fun in the depth of a cold wet dark winter I’m sure.

The Saint Quentin’s southern end is at Chauny. We were not sure what to expect. There is a port/marina there and it looks quite smart, but is designed for smaller boats that Calliope. So we moored next to some steps, and also, in some trepidation, a shuttered Karaoke bar. We were quickly reassured by a friendly and welcoming local that the bar was no longer in business.

It was a hot day and I put up the shade sails over the dog box and main cabin window to keep us cool.

You may have spotted the goose in the larger photo above, on the left. He was a very friendly gander, constantly swimming over to us and talking – for company as well as for bread, or so it seemed. He lived, during the day, on a ledge at the edge of the canal, with a few moorhens for company, but sadly no partnering goose.

When it began to cool a little we went to take a look at Chauny. It was much nicer than we expected. There are a lot of old and interesting buildings, she ofd open spaces and parks, many shops, cafés and bars. Overall it is a vibrant town (city?) and worth a visit.

After a cooling beer in the main square we returned to Calliope and her cool interior. Supper aboard and a shady evening on the aft deck rounded off a good day.

The sky played its part in the final hours, turning striking flaming red and pink.

In the morning – another brought blue one – I added a short diversion to my boulangerie trip by gong to see the Oise, still running to and fro quite wildly next to the canal.

This is the weir at Chauny, smooth and polished before its enthusiastic tumble down to the next level.

The glory of these waters never ceases to enthralled me. I apologise for so many blue and green photos, but it may inspire you to follow in our wake. Of course it is not always like this. There are stormy days, wet weeks, gale ridden months; but each has its splendour.

Here we are crossing a wide basin that marks the junction with the Canal de l’Oise à l’Aisne, on the left under the bridge.

But our route was plotted to continue on the Canal Lateral à l’Oise. For this depending on the canal side signs, that is the name half hidden on the sign behind the bush!

With this canal comes new canal infrastructure. The locks have two ‘lanes’, although it seemed as if only one side is currently in use. There is probably insufficent traffic. The lock house is much bigger; the signage explaining where you are is completely different with its blue writing; the locks along this stretch los each have one or two intriguing old wheelbarrows. I guess they were used for loading and unloading barges in earlier days. That must have kept plenty of people in work – tough manual work.

Sometimes we pass barge and boat graveyards – often far bigger than this. They are always an emotional sight. Once people were proud to own and work these craft, usually living on them with their families. Now they relax into the water, pride gone.

Ah, time to relax! The Captain takes his time over his lunch, whilst studying the Book on our next canal – Canal du Nord. Meantime crew goes ashore with a bag of compost and replants the thyme plant in the little tin bath given to Calliope and crew by a sculptor back on Canal de la Sambre.

Not long after the relaxation I saw the bow of a big commercial barge appear in our doorway. Watching to see what L’Aout was going to do next I discovered that she planned to moor just astern of us. I thought there was hardly room for her, but with the usual brilliant helmsmanship of these guys he brought her gently in to moor with us for the rest of the day and overnight.

As we got closer to evening Stu and I took a good walk round Pont L’Éveque and tried to see the place we had moored 5 years before on the other side of town – on the Canal du Nord. But it was not easy to get there so instead we aimed for Le Confluence – a small bar at the junction of the two canals that we had been to last time. It was April 2016, and colder and darker than a hot early September evening. This time we sat outside!

On our way back via the port we saw this vibrant street art. It was just too wonderful not to capture ‘on film’. I would love this on a giant poster on my wall – make me smile each time I looked at it.

I went for an evening walk / dance back along the canal, our into the country where no-one can see me prance about! Playing music as I go certainly puts a lift into my 10000 steps.

We rose to a morning glow as beautiful as the evening glow had been 12 hours before. There is something special about sunlight over water.

Commercial barges were already moving on to their next collection or deposit by the time I emerged.

I went out for some morning air and the possibility of fresh bread in the morning. The former was in abundance, but the latter was not to be found; we managed to be there on the day of the week that it was closed, quite a habit of ours! But the walk was well worth it to see the early light on the bridge over the entrance to the port.

The port itself seemed to still be slumbering under the 8am skies, but no doubt there was activity inside the houses and boats.

It is an attractive port, and can take longer boats, but on this occasion it was full.

Not a worry. We were very happy moored up just above Sempigny lock.

The last lock on the Lateral à l’Oise is called Sempigny – the village just across the canal from Pont-L’Évêque – and is where the telecommand, or remote control, that we have used to open all the locks for the past week since Origny-Ste-Benoite, must be posted back to the VNF in the dockside letterbox.

Moving on to the much bigger Canal du Nord we will be working with manned (and ‘womanned’) locks.

And then there we were, on our way to our first lock of Canal du Nord. Read about that voyage next!

Canal de Sambre à l’Oise

A wonderful week on country waters

30th August – 5th September 2021

Robert Louis Stevenson was still with us as we moved onto the canal built in the 1800s to link the Sambre at Landrecies with the Oise at La Fère – both places mentioned by RLS in his book ‘An Inland Voyage’. To write in his marvellous style is far beyond my reach, but I will attempt to use a slightly more lyrical style to describe the people and events on this magically empty stretch of water.

(I am doomed to failure, but let’s give it a go).

We left Landrecies with replenished stores – enough to see us through our week away from commerce, apart from the ubiquitous baguettes that we hoped to find from time to time. Luckily there is a fair size Carrefour just up the road – and they were selling off LOTS of wine before they changed to their new lines; Dame Fortune smiled our way.

I had noticed the WW1 cemetery in Landrecies and then read how close we were to where the war poet Wilfred Owen died. He was probably killed crossing the canal on a raft when the allied forces were pushing back the enemy.

He is buried in Ors cemetery, close to Ors lock. Here is where his prophetic words came true:

“If I should die, think only this of me:
That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. “

Soon after Ors we were at Catillon-sur-Sambre, trying in vain to use our zapper (remote control) only to see a helpful, seemingly happy, member of the French state waiting to lift the bridge for us.

Long may this last. I have tried to find out how many jobs on the waterways have been lost to automation, and how many lock keepers losing their lock side homes, but cannot find a source for that information.

In days gone by, now long ago, the bridge keeper would have worked from the brick hut on the right, and open and closed the roads and bridge by manual labour. Now he has a dull grey metal cabin in which to press his operating buttons.

Then we were off into the countryside with just the sleepy waters, banks of green and occasional heron or buzzard for company.

We always hope to reach our next night’s mooring by lunch time, giving us the afternoon to explore the area. Such was the case at Bois L’Abbaye, the last lock on the Canal de la Sambre before it becomes the Canal de la Sambre à l’Oise. We knew that the mooring was by the lock, but were surprised by just how adjacent the quay was to the lock gates!

We came out of the lock, and with magnificent skill from the Captain, and of course some adept rope throwing from the crew, we moved sideways into moor. Engine switched off and absolute peace descended over us and Calliope.

Time now to enjoy the French rural life; lunch, siesta, and then a walk around the long fishing lake that we doisciver4d behind the trees, and which runs, hidden, along side the canal for two kilometres.

The walk round was a real ramble, enjoying peeks at the many little fishing cabins along the lake – all empty on a weekday! There were too many wild flowers to photograph and categorise, so a few must suffice.

Bois L’Abbaye was also the place to say goodbye to our friendly zapper – the first we have seen that allows you to choose your language and then receive merry little messages to make your voyage easier. But good-bye it was, and into its little letterbox it was posted.

Next morning, ‘zapperless’, we continued on our way; next stop somewhere down a flight of 17 locks. The first 14 locks are within the space of 8 kilometres – and first we had to reach Étreux, the start of our rapid descent!

The cruise along to Étreux was smooth and uneventful, and we arrived full of interest and mild apprehension about what the next few hours would bring. The flags were out waiting for us, including the Union Jack, which has been removed from some flagpoles since Brexit.

It’s easy to see the long chain of locks on the map, some closer than a few hundred yards apart, but until you understand how it is all going to operate, and whether bollards are easily accessible, there is a feeling of ‘wait and see’ in the air. In this lock, number 2 I think, the ‘bollards’ in the wall to let ourselves down were cross shaped and not always easy to throw a line over, but as everything was slow and gentle it wasn’t a problem.

The view from Lock 2 was a taster of the glory that was to come. Before long the skies started to clear as well – it seemed we were heading South for the sun.

In fact it all turned out to be simple and straightforward. We were accompanied by a series of èclusiers who, like kingfishers, have their own stretch of the canal and will stay with you until the end of their territory – whereupon another takes over.

Lock 6 presented us with a nice contrast between the new light house brickwork and old brickwork path. I was amused by the lighthouse m motif in the middle of the countryside – a whimsical architect i think!

The VNF van with its accompanying éclusier was usually ahead of us at the locks, but on this occasion he arrived just as we were closing in on raising the operating rod.

And for those who are not familiar with these ‘operating rods’, here is a close up from an other lock.

(We did once, a long time ago, manage to pull the red alarm rod once trying to get balance and purchase on the green rod! Not a good idea – to brings all sorts of people running)

Our thought had been to moor up after lock 8 but we were speeding along so successfully that we decided to continue to lock 14. And just as that decision was made, and the canalised river took snake like turn under Vénérolles bridge, the water became very shallow on the inside of both bends! Captain Stu coped as always and we did not run aground.

By midday we were appropriately at lock 12, Hannapes. We enjoyed going through Hannapés, first of all with its lift bridge just before the lock, stopping the local traffic in its tracks for a few minutes – but not inconveniencing many! Someone has taken the time to create a nice garden be tween the bridge and the lock, and in fact around the lock itself. These little touches add to the enjoyment and variation of our travels all the time.

The second lock at Hannapés have me a chance to collect a little more lock nurdiness. The lock gates here are true natural moss gardens; I would love to spend time studying the various flora gathered on these gates! And the water levels along this stretch mean that almost as soon as the lock gates close behind you a waterfall starts to fall into the empty lock, sometimes threatening to drench the Captain who always has the stern rope!

Finally we came through into Tupigny, where the young éclusier was reminded of the manual effort that went into the locks in the days of Robert Louis Stevenson! One vantelle (panel that lifts within the lock gate to let water in/out) had a problem with its automation and he was compelled to use the winding method of old – something with which that many boaters in the UK will be very familiar.

It was an hour past our usual lunch time, but we could see our mooring 100 yards in front of us, so all well.

I neglected to say that this day was the anniversary of the day we met, long ago at a folk club. So we were pleased to find an excellent solitary, legal, even romantic, mooring at Tupigny.

In the afternoon we walked round the village, slightly in hope of a bar where we could start our anniversary celebrations, But although a very well kept village there was no bar that looked to be open that day.

So we returned to the boat and had a wonderful home made tapas style supper on the back deck. And a gentle sunset to match the rosé. What could be better?

As we left Tupigny next morning we saw some of the work that is still going on on this re-opened river/canal to modernise it.

Here a swing bridge is being replaced. Looks like it will be completed soon.

Out of Tupigny and back out into the country, with a straight run down towards the second Grand Verly lock. These wide open spaces, with the pastoral hills beginning to rise around us, never cease to fill us both with natural wellbeing – our form of mindfulness I guess.

Moving on down stream we soon came to Lock 17, Grand Verly where a female éclusier joined us for the manual work where some of the automated vantelles were currently non-automated!

The main reason for the 14 year closure of the Sambre mentioned earlier was the failure of two viaducts at Vadencourt and Macquigny, shown by the two red ‘no entry’ marks on our map, and both now rebuilt thanks to a €30m investment shared by the French government and various local authorities.

So here we are arriving at the first of the two new pont canals; very smart! And over one of many many loops of the Oise we go.

Of course the locks along this stretch were out of use for years. They all seem to have had a new coat of paint in VNF blue and green. And the house Lock 21, Proix Noyales, has been turned into a lovely home and garden. I wonder how they feel after all the very quiet years to suddenly have boats full of people coming by.

The local wildlife are also having to get used to boats appearing from round the bend! A branch rather awkwardly placed for barges has been a good fishing spot for this heron until we arrived.

Towards lunchtime we were approaching Origny-Ste-Benoite – our mooring for the night. The initial view looked somewhat industrial, and turned to to be a major sugar factory, utilising sugar beet from a huge surrounding area.

Even as we came to and through Oriogny lock we were wondering why we had chosen Origny – the one;y place we could see to moor being ‘underneath some HUGE silos – but we tied up, had lunch, and looked around!

We were on one side of a huge empty basin on a quay unused apart from the grain-watching pigeon collection! Lorries came occasionally at the other en d of the quay to deposit their load, and a tractor passed us by even less often – so amazingly peaceful given the setting. And when they all went home for tea, even better.

Moy-de-l’Aisne

The next day’s morning sun lit up the saloon and galley magically, getting me up and going.

I returned to both the previous day’s boulangeries, hoping to find quiches in one of them . (I have now learned that am more likely to find a quiche in a butcher than a baker … so expect sweet things plus bread in a boulangerie and savoury ready to eat delicious meals, plus raw meat, in a boucherie.

Anyway I did find bread for lunch and a huge pain au chocolat which seemed to be a perfect breakfast.

At thew Origny lock we were given a new remote control to take us on down stream, and in fact beyond the end of this canal onto the Canal St Quentin. That gives me a chance to show a little of the changes that have occurred for éclusiers. The photo on the left shows the sort of house, on this canal, that an éclusier would have had as part off their job when the locks were operated manually; generally one éclusier per lock. Then as it became automated the éclusiers lost their houses and had cabins full of controls, perhaps with a van to manage several locks. Now we, the boaters, use a remote control to operate the lock, only seeing an éclusier if there is a problem – so one éclusier can manage a whole string of locks. Result is less jobs, empty houses and less contact for boaters with the local people.

But there are chances to live on these lock houses. Usually you cannot buy them, but at a peppercorn rent you can enter into an agreement to do it up at your own cost.

As we moved on down to our next halt I was reminded again of RLS who, apparently, almost got sucked into a ‘siphon’ under this pont canal. He was on the river underneath where it flows through a series of holes in the structure, rather than a full river.

He was alerted by someone on the bank and avoided getting jammed, with his canoe, under water!

Another sense of wonder along the way was the cappuccino style froth in some of the locks. I am sure that the brown foam is somewhat dirty, but the overvall effect is very stylish!

We were on our way, via 7 locks, to Moy-de-l’Aisne where we had read of one of our favourite type of moorings – quite and seemingly miles from anywhere. I am not sure which of the 7 ,locks is shown above, but a feeling of tranquility and calm falls upon one just looking at it.

We arrived, stopping just below Hamégicourt lock, to just what we had hoped for – and even an empty picnic bench waiting for us to have al fresco lunch. Happy Captain.

We had our customary walk – this time a kilometre into Moy-de-l’Aisne – and found that RLS had got there first! He had enjoyed watching people going in and out of the moated chateau – unfortunately destroyed during the First World War. And he stayed at the Mouton D’Or – also no more! There was evidence of confident building after the war; many houses had towers, steeples, and echos of chateau style decoration.

As we came through Hamégicourt lock the man who now lives in the lock house(a retired lock keeper we later discovered) emerged to say hello and watch Calliope descend.

I used my best French to say how lucky I thought he was to live in a lock house, and he replied that he thought I was lucky to live on a boat! He invited us back to see his little secret garden later.

So we did – and discovered that we were in the presence of a sculptor of some renown. His stable is now a workshop, and full of dustcover cloaked pieces of his art. He is a very private man, so I am not showing his work or his name, but here is his barbecue – sculpted out of various old objects and built to the right height for him to cook.

And he was delightfully kind in giving me a present from the wonderful collection of dusty antiquities he had stored in his workshop.

This little tin ‘bath’ is now mine and will for ever remind me of our stop at Moy.

That evening the quietness, the light, the sound of birds – all combined to make it one of the gentlest evenings of the summer.

But that was before we travelled a full 2 kms to Vendeuil, even deeper into the country, even more peaceful. Even now, writing this, I shake my head in wonder at the perfection of the place.

Vendeuil – here we are, moored tip on a hot day in the shade of trees next to a field of rambling cows, moving together in synchronised grazing. I think a very few cyclists went past, and one boat gong in the opposite direction – a real shock as we saw so few other craft on this canal.

There was the scheduled walk in the afternoon. A long lake runs alongside the canal at this point – no doubt a stretch of the troublesome run-away Oise. We had hoped to get down to it, but it was a private fishing lake so we just enjoyed the view. We were surprised to see a lot of wild hops growing – normally hops are grown in Alsace.

We had a wonderfully dark and peaceful night, expecting it to be or last on a tranquil mooring for some time.

On Saturday 4th September, two weeks and two days after entering the Sambre at Charleroi, we were leaving this scenic waterway, heading for Beautor and within three and a half kilometres of this canal meeting the Canal de St Quentin – another story!

Our three hour trip included a complete change of lock style for the two locks at Travecy, with these recessed blue bollards – very smart and easy to work with. There was also nice green growth on the second lock wall – hanging gardens of Travecy!

We waved goodbye to our new friends at Travecy, and also to our last Canal de Sambre à l’Oise lock – a sense of the end of a journey – the end of our heading South.

Time to veer slightly West before heading back north for the winter.

The mooring in Beautor – along a huge empty 100m+ quay, was much nicer than we had expected. And nicer than this photo suggests.

It was very quiet – some traffic across the bridge behind us, but not close enough to be troublesome. Otherwise a quay that rarely had people or cars on it, with a bank opposite that was an isthmus between the canal and the ever wandering Oise.

Nice enough to attract a few cyclists and dog walkers.

So nice that we stayed two nights.

It’s funny the things that can make a mooring especially good. Yes, it is useful to have access occasionally to water and electricity – but almost more important on a regular basis are places to get rid of our rubbish – and when there is a bin for recycling plus a bottle bank we feel very pleased; our little bit of ‘green’.

That afternoon we needed to do a quick shop at the LeClerq supermarket, a convenient 500 yards away.

It was hot, but had to be done that day as the shops were shut on the following day, Sunday.

When we returned, fully laden, the locked up wheelhouse had clocked up a magnificent 40 degrees C!

But all cooled down with doors open and a sun setting earlier now that we were into September, and a change in the weather!

The route to Le Clerq took us past the church – an art deco building that couldn’t help but grab our attention.

I wish now that I had gone inside too – I wonder what it is like. Google will help me!

The heat caused billowing clouds to gather, thunder to roll, and eventually rain to fall; a sweet half-rainbow appeared too.

The following day we had a good walk round La Fere, the historic military town across the other side of the canal. It is another of the places where RLS washed up and has quite a bit to say about the number of soldiers and reservists in town. Now it seems to be entirely civilian.

But there are huge remnants of the military presence – magnificent in their grandeur and might!

and parts of the old town, although tired, are still fascinating.

Streams and tributaries of the Oise find their way between streets all over the place!

The two towns of Beautor and La Fere have gone to great effort to be Ville de Fleurs. Everywhere possible are huge and colourful beds of flowers and grasses. Boxes adorn every surface and most lamp posts have their own min-garden! I bet it wasn’t like this for Robert Louis.

And more! I took even more photos so I am treating to you to just a few of the many.

The walk to La Fere also resulted in bread for lunch. We were ready to eat to when we got back from our exploration.

I was still keen to have a better understanding of the wiggles of the l’Oise, so took a walk along to the next bridge, over, and back along the other bank – where I found the Oise curling round just a few feet away.

RLS gives wonderful descriptions old the tortuous meanderings of the river, always rushing in haste to the sea, so it is nice to get a sense of his experience.

That evening the effects of the sunset were spectacular. Our last night on this totally stunning, completely absorbing, very relaxing and tranquil waterway – La Sambre and the Sambre à l’Oise Canal.

Carry on up the Sambre!

The French Sambre

26th to 29th August 2021

This is a nice short blog, especially in comparison to some of my recent ramblings. We had three nights and the best part of four days on this stretch of the 2021 voyage. Bienvenue en France!

We left Erquelinnes on a blue and sunny morning, crossing the border into France almost immediately at the Belgian 0 kilometre post. A squat reminder of the border crossing.

We were passing through Jeumont and its Haute Nautique a few minutes later, wondering whether the water and electricity borne now worked – others boaters had reported them as out of service.

This is where we had walked to the day before to find fresh milk. All these cows we keep passing, and the only milk in most supermarkets is homogenised on the shelf stuff.

A kilometre on we met the first lock on the French section of the Sambre, mooring up below the lock on the waiting pontoon to find out how these locks will operate.

It keeps us on our toes moving from one water way to another and one country to another at the same time. At least the language didn’t change – Wallonia to France.

Mounting a somewhat underused staircase to the lock we could see that we must collect a remote control from the hut, and do to that we must use the intercom – or filling that phone the command office further along the river. The intercom failed, so a call was made, and after a few translation difficulties we were delivered remote control number 18 through a reverse ‘letter box’.

We were off – and in charge of our own lock operation. We have met this system before in France, and rather like it, although on some waterways the lock operating systems are out of order as often as they work. Fingers crossed!

We were heading for Hautmont and its modern port. That meant another two locks and 18 kms – a good morning’s journey. The lock at Hautmont has an interesting approach, round a bend, under a bridge, and with a weir stream kicking Calliope to one side! All was managed perfectly by the Captain at the helm.

The port is immediately after the lock, large and newly appointed, and deigned for smaller boats within, plus a long pontoon outside, on the river, for larger vessels like us.

All of our moorings so far this year have been free, but we were happy to pay the €20 (€1 per meter) for a night here. We were able to fill up with water, get rid of all our rubbish, and have an easy place to tie up to.

A short walk into town to find a boulangerie for lunch time bread revealed the church and fountain of the main square.

A later, longer, walk took us past again as we went in search of a radiator cap. We did find the Norauto store, but they had nothing as old fashioned as a radiator cap!

However we found another store that sold us a new clock for the galley wall, a new lamp for the back cabin, and some transparent hose that the Captain had a use for.

I will leave that to your imagination!

The view up river from our Hautmont mooring was industrial, but also dramatic as clouds rolled in that evening.

By morning the black skies were blue, and being enjoyed by a young heron on the quay until it saw me and took fright – and flight! I was more excited by the prospect of fresh French croissants on our first morning in France, and returned to yesterday’s boulangerie to buy some – a real treat!

We had read that the new port included a ‘pump out’ to empty black water tanks (the poo tank to the uninitiated) and a diesel pump operated 24/7 by credit card. We couldn’t see either of these facilities, and on asking the Captiaine we were told they were ‘la bas’ with a casual wave of the arm upstream, but not working.

We set off on a short 9 kms cruise to find a country mooring for the next night, and just round the first bend found the pump out and diesel quay – smart and new, but awaiting repair! Maybe next year …..

At Quartes, below the small town of Pont-sun-Sambre, we spied the waiting pontoon for the lock – ideal! We stopped for lunch to try it out, and with no other traffic on the river needing to use the pontoon I phoned the local VNF office to ask if we could stay there for the night. Bien sur! No problemo!

It was a wonderfully relaxed day, with this vista all around us while we were on the boat. We walked up into the town and found the boulangerie ready for use the next morning. It is a fascinating little place in some ways, causing me to look it up on the internet and discover that Robert Louis Stevenson had written an excellent chapter in his book ‘An Inland Voyage’, about his travels in a canoe through Belgium and Northern France.

It is very well worth reading – far better than my paltry way with words! Here’s a link

http://www.online-literature.com/stevenson/inland-voyage/6/

Despite the charms of Quartes we were wary of overstaying or welcome on a lock mooring and were ready to leave next day. We had realised, looking at the map, that a four mile trip round a loop in the Sambre would place us closer to the boulangerie than walking from the Quartes mooring so this is what we did.

We moored at the ‘official’ Pont-sun-Sambre mooring and I walked a few hundred yards into town – to the most popular boulangerie I have even seen! I joined 8th in the queue and before I got into the shop there were fourteen behind me! We were across the road from the post office, which I was delighted to see had been the post office since 1932.

Captain Stu and I were surprised to find a traffic light system in operation at the next lock, and to see it with a double red light – which means ‘en panne’, or out of order! And as we drove towards it we could also see a fire engine, another emergency vehicle, and lots of pompiers (firemen) looking onto the lock. Had there been an accident?

But almost immediately the lights turned to green and red – lock in preparation – and the gates opened for us to go in.

We had a cheerful ‘Franglaise’ conversation with the pompiers and it seemed they were simply ‘looking at’ the lock, maybe to understand how it now operated with its new traffic lights.

They waved us cheerfully on our way.

Three kilometres on from that excitement, and along some narrow waters with startling skies above, we found the slightly muddy pontoon at Bras Mort de Leval.

The ‘dead arm’ mentioned (Bras Mort) refers to a tight twist of the Sambre that was nipped off in 1836 to make a more navigable canal for the barges working up and down the river. Leval refers to the nearby village which was served by the river traffic almost 200 years ago.

The Bras Mort is now a small nature reserve with good paths and boardwalks to take you round. Although it advertises kingfishers and otters we only saw swans, ducks and coots – but a beautiful environment nonetheless. We walked on into the village which, to be fair, was not one of France’s most picturesque.

But the evening was perfect – sundown on the back deck and total peace and quiet apart from distant trains. This is what we cruise for!

(Oh, and for the croissants, cheeses, beers, waffles, wines ……….. )

And then in the morning the best bit of nature watching! A stork following the cows and egrets across the field opposite.

Apologies for the lack of clarity – only had my phone to hand!

But the black and white of the cows complementing the black and white of the stork was something a bit special!

And here we are already on our last day on the actual river Sambre. We joined it at Charleroi 10 days ago to come upstream fore the first time. We went the other way last year, down stream to Namur where it joins the mighty Meuse.

Lets enjoy a little more of the lovely River scenery.

Amongst the fields and woods we had locks 3, 2 and 1 to go through . At Number 2, Hashette, the lock keepers house stands empty and deserted because of the automation along the French Sambre.

The big VNF notice on the right tells us that it is available as a ‘project’, which essentially means you pay them a tiny rent in return for doing the house up to a standard agreed with them.

It’s in a lovely remote place. Any takers?

We continued through number 3, Les Étoquies, where we chatted with a retired lock keeper living by the lock with his three dogs, goats and chickens.

Then, as we reached Landecies where the river meets the canal head on, we confusingly meet another lock number 3. This is the start of the locks for Canal Sambre à l’Oise. The first 3 continue going upwards, numbered 3, 2 and 1!

I noticed a very different type of paddle on this lock. (This is the part of the lock that lifts to allow water to pour in from above.)

This is probably a bit geeky of me! But I love locks and all their differences. This one has 8 rounded ‘shutters’ in the gates that gradually lift, allowing more and more water in. Maybe both the other two rising locks on this section will be the same ……

Looking from the Halte Nautique pontoon to our mooring

Tomorrow we will move directly onto the Canal de Sambre à l’Oise, and it will probably will seem very similar – except that after the next two locks going upwards we will find ourselves descending.

Late summer in Belgium part 3

Down the Belgian Sambre

with some Haut Escaut, and Canals Nimy-Blaton-Ath, de Centre and Brussels – Charleroi

August 15th to 26th 2021

We left Antoing and friends Mieke and Frans, setting off up the Haut Escaut towards the two big locks at Péronnes; these still ring alarm bells in the mind of the Captain as we had something of a rude awakening (6am) when we came down through them two years ago in the company of two large commercial barges and several smaller craft. (See blog post from July 2019 – ‘A River and Three Canals in a Week’).

The 2021 experience was much better – even pleasant! For a start we now had a means of communicating from end to end of a 65′ barge, with the accompanying noise of lock mechanisms and rushing water!

As the photos show, we had much more stately progress through the two Péronnes locks this time. It was made easier by being the only boat in the lock and able to choose our position on the bollards to suit the length of Calliope. Also experience, and the Nautic-talk made a difference. Quite enjoyable overall!

The wide straight section of canal after the locks was the perfect opportunity for crew to take over at the helm for a while – the only thing to avoid on a Sunday being the fishermen!

We were now on the Nimy-Blaton-Péronnes canal, heading East, enjoying the quietness of a mainly non-working day for the commercial barges.

(Of course we recognise and respect the big contribution that these working barges make to the waterway network and love them really!)

Further along the canal we were surprised to suddenly find the green carpet of duckweed normally associated with smaller, less used canals. It looks glorious, but is a bit of a nuisance.

Once through the duckweed we began to see interesting reflections. I love the way that the reflection of the steps seems to go back under the bank!

We knew where we were heading – Pommroeul! This huge, currently unused, basin with its long long mooring pier, is somewhere we have stayed before. There was a slight trepidation that it would be full of week-ending commercial barges, but, as you can see, it was totally totally empty!

This huge basin is the entrance to the ill-fated 12km long Pommeroeul-Conde canal, built to form another link between the French and Belgian canal systems. It opened in 1982, but due to heavy silting had to close 10 years later. Dredging from the Belgian end has taken place, and the French section (with the help of EU money) is almost clear as well. The canal is due to re-open in 2022, so probably no more peaceful mooring for leisure boats then!

Beyond the drop down from the lock is a ‘lake’, currently enjoyed by bathers, jet-skiers, ribs and other water sports; the cormorants wait for their turn when everyone has gone home! I took a walk along to the next bridge, round and back, to take it all in before it changes next year.

Then to settle down to a peaceful evening on the boat – or maybe not! I still had unspent energy so with a silent disco in my ears I danced up and down the pier. Poor Captain, with such crazy crew!

The sunset and sunrise were equally beautiful in their way, although Monday dawned with a lot of cloud and the threat of rain to come.

And as we set off next day it was immediately evident that Sunday and passed and a new working week was beginning!

We waited to allow a commercial barge, Karin, to go ahead of us – a slight mistake as she turned out to be travling rather slowly due to a heavy load.

Ah well, we were in no great rush!

A few kilometres on Karin drew in to a widening in the canal to let us pass, giving a friendly wave as we went by.

As we passed Mons the canal became the Canal de Centre and we looked ahead to the two locks we would go up that day. Luckily I had previously written in the map book what kind of bollards we should expect, so we were pleasantly prepared. We shared the locks with a small cabin cruiser, who found it a bit more difficult as the bollards tend to be around 15m apart, but they managed too.

We were heading for Thieu for the night, hoping to stay on the long quay by the entrance to the Canal Historique. And once more we were in luck, with only one other boat moored up there. Plenty of space for Calliope!

Although it was a bit wet still we went for a walk over the river to the village of Thieu.

We were looking for somewhere to buy bread the next morning, and having found the only boulangerie closed on Tuesdays we carried on to make sure the little minimarket was still there, and would be open!

Next morning I was back over the bridge to buy some bread, and a few other essentials – a short trip, but one that logged 3000 steps and got me a nice photo from the bridge of our resting place.

I also indulged my interest in all things natural by getting up close to some of the many beautiful stages of a cow parsley bloom.

But then we were off – off to ascend the marvellous piece of engineering that is the Ascenseur Strèpy-Thieu. We have travelled this boat lift twice before, but of does not cease to amaze. It is a 75.3m vertical trip with awe-inspiring views of both machinery and scenery!

As we prepare to cast off Elan, a barge full of scrap metal, comes past and will be our company on the way up.

We reach the basin below the lift and wait a while until first the ‘doors’ open, and then Elan goes in.

We continued along the Canal de Centre, a wide, straight, modern canal, planning to reach Viesville lock for the night. However after only two and a half kilometres an alarm went off on the boat and we realised that the engine had overheated.

There are few places to stop and tie up along this stretch of canal but we were luckily just passing an industrial wharf, currently empty.

Captain Stu took us alongside, we tied up, and had lunch while we waited for the engine to cool down and understand the ‘problem’.

It turned out that we were short of water in the engine cooling system – that will teach us to get complacent about something that has always been fine whenever Stewart checked!

A short while after adding some water and testing the engine (now seemingly OK) a barge arrived to sue the wharf for commercial purposes, so we went on our way again.

Sadly then repair was not quite as simple as initially expected and within 5 minutes the engine overheated again. This time we were right beside the only reasonable public mooring along this part of the canal, so quickly tied up and switched off to wait for the engine to cool again, and further investigations to take place.

We adapted our red ensign to be the Belgian red flag of ‘immobile’ and made the decision to stay there overnight in order to fully let the boat cool down and understand the issue. In the morning an exchange of messages with the ever helpful Piper boats team pointed towards an airlock in the coolant system following the top up the previous day. Captain, turned Engineer, spent some time in the engine room and soon sorted it out! Simple really, as long as our know what to look for and what you are doing.

We were soon on our way again, keeping an eye on the temperature gauge, which remained reassuringly low.

Before long we were turning to starboard onto the Brussels-Charleroi Canal and heading for our next few locks.

The skies changed from light grey to dark, from potential sunshine to potential downpour. The scenery was changing to rise higher each side and become more wooded. There was evidence of the summer holidays with youngsters our learning the art of rowing.

We were in needs of fresh milk – the Captain is not very keen on the homogenised milk that is most common on the shelves of the supermarkets here.

I was pleased to see a Carrefour on Google maps that was seemingly near the canal. They usually have fresh milk – so all we had to do was find a mooring close by.

And we did; an old bollard hidden in the grass and something that the Captain tied onto.

And the Carrefour was really close! The roof was visible form the mooring!

We had made a plan to stay at Viesville lock where we have stayed overnight before and been very comfortable amongst groups of working barges waiting for the early locks down next day. But having announced out intention to the éclusiers he recommended that we carry on to the next lock, Gosselies, and stay there – so we did.

Having dropped down the lock we discovered that our mooring options were not as great as anticipated – a long wooden pier one side, with bollards about 30m apart, or a long high wall where the bollards were more comfortably spaced for us. We thought we would get as far from the lock as we could, only to find a ‘No Parking’ sign part way along, meaning that we had to moor close to the lock than we would have preferred – but all seemed OK – in fact very pleasant and calm.

It was an ideal opportunity to start cleaning off the grime that accumulates as you cruise through the more industrial areas – a good evening’s exercise when you cannot get off the barge to go walking!

It was less so in the night when we were woken a couple of times – once by a spider that had fallen in through the window and into our bed! Once by a sense that Calliope was leaning to one side, due to the water level falling and the mooring ropes holding her up on the starboard side – easily rectified by a swift trip up on deck. And then from 6am the barges starting to come and go through the lock, and the planes beginning their daily schedule from Brussels-Charleroi nearby! All good fun, and part of life on a boat.

We were looking forward to the next day’s cruising as it would take us, eventually, away from the industrial canals and onto the Haute Sambre – a smaller and much less used river. But first it was through the current and past working life of the Charleroi area. There is a huge amount of scrap metal business the area, but past evidence of steel works and their, now green, slag heaps.

We had one lock along the way and had to wait a while to use it. A gaggle of hybrid geese helped to pass the time and eat up our left over bread.

The lock itself, Marchienne-au-Pont, is only 7m and has floating bollards, so not a major obstacle. Although when the bollard at its highest floating point in somewhat below the level of the fore-deck it does require a bit of leaning over and swinging rope hopefully to catch it!

But of course once you start to go down in the lock it evens out and all is well.

Less than 3 kilometres on we were into Charleroi and turning right onto the Sambre.

This sign is confusing as it shows the turning towards Bruxelles, Mons and Tournai that we had just come from!

We turned onto the Haute Sambre in the direction of Thuin.

We were finding the riverbanks ever changing, from industrial to residential, from city park to countryside. And within 5 kms we were at our first Haute Sambre lock, Monceau-sun-Sambre. I had phoned ahead to the éclusier as normal good practise and he said that he would prepare the lock. So we were surprised when we came round a slight bend to go into the lock to find that the gates were closed.

Thinking that the éclusier would be keeping a watch for us to arrive the Captain held Calliope midstream as best he could, given the cross wind! After a while, lock gates still closed, I called again. Ah yes, he would now prepare the lock! And after another five minutes we saw that the lock was beginning to empty.

After another five minutes the gates opened and we went in – both looking as always for the best option for securing both ends of the barge. It was difficult; we went to the front of the lock looking for options. It is only a 4.9m lock, but the bollards at the top are set back and impossible to see from the bottom of the lock. I was just climbing onto the roof in the hope of throwing a rope from there when the éclusier appeared and gestured to us to come astern and tie to two bollards low down in the wall.

This was seemingly odd advice as there were no bollards higher in the wall to move up to as the water n the lock rose, but we obediently did as we were told. And then all became clear!!!! The éclusier appeared above us with a big hook and a long piece of cord, which he let down, we hung our ropes to, and we took up and passed round d the hidden bollards on the quay!

Voila! It all worked perfectly.

Soon the lock was full and were ready to carry on up river, under grey skies.

A quick few things should be said about the Sambre. For 15 years the river could be cruised from its French side and its Belgian side, but not all the way through. Now this beautiful route between the two countries has been reopened (July 2021), following reconstruction of the aqueducts at Vadencourt and Macquencourt. The French Government paid for half the cost of restoring the canal, the rest of the €15 million investment being covered by the local authorities.

There is evidence of the infrastructure being improved further, with river side roads and paths being relaid, new pontoons and water/electricity supplies for plaisanciers, and dredging of sections in danger of silting up. Travel this waterway! It’s worth it.

Now we really did feel we were out on the country. We saw a king fisher – our first this year – mild mannered cows chewed peacefully as we went by; fisherman nodded and pulled in their lines; the small village of Landelies came into view.

The lock at Landelies was the first of the many to one manually operated on the Sambre. Stewart went to help with opening the gates, which is a benefit to us as well as to the éclusier, as we can move on more sooner.

The next lock is at Abbaye d’Aulne, a mere two and a half kms further, where we were to moor up for a couple of days. Once more we helped at the lock, and then onto the long quay just beyond where there was plenty of space for us.

The Abbaye is a monumental place – just full of interest, history, ruins and architecture. Lunch came first but then a walk round the ruins was a must. According to legend (and the English guide book) the Abbey was formed in 637 and there have been monastic structures here ever since. It was in the 12th-13th Century that the Cistercians settled in here, forcing the local inhabitants to sell their property to the abbey on pain of excommunication. Not exactly a kindly thing to do.

Here are a few shots of the amazing structures that still remain after a varied history that is worth reading. The abbey covered a huge area, including 5 mills, fish ponds, farmland, guest accommodation, a tannery, brewery and of course cloisters, church and thew other religious necessities. Underneath it all ran a complex system of massive sewers carrying away human and kitchen waste!

That evening in part of the Abbey grounds on the far side of us a big non-dancing disco was held. I did walk up and have a quick look and listen, but then back to Calliope for a quiet sunset rosé with my lovely man.

But our evening out was to the Mini Golf Terrace bar, overlooking the weir stream of the river. We both sampled the Abbaye beer – it is still brewed in local town Thuin, but no longer by the monks! I tried their Cherie cherry flavoured beer – sadly not a patch on the Kreik cherry beers, brewed in a different way. Stewart’s blonde was just right for a summer evening.

To complete our ‘date night’ we went for a meal at one of the many restaurants around the Abbey, and recommended to us by a local couple. Our aperitifs were served with the ruins as backdrop.

After a shared starter Stewart chose jamboneau – it was huge and we brought home what he could not eat to use for another meal! I had a platter of cold smoked fish with salad – also huge! But we still struggled through a shared ice cream dessert!

With stomachs full we staggered across the weir stream bridge and back to Calliope for a peaceful night, only disturbed, occasionally, by the lovely gaggle of geese.

Our next stop was not far away. We were heading for Thuin. The description of the mooring and the town both sounded nice.

It was to be one of those windy rural trips, cruising gently through nature, with three small locks along the way.

The map book shows that all the phone numbers for the locks have changed over the past few years, but luckily we had been provided with a new list at the first lock.

Here is a small sample of the scenery we enjoyed that morning.

And the locks were enjoyable too!

At one of them, right out away from towns and villages, the Captain attempted to recruit some canine crew, whilst I chatted to a goat, after being the one to do the manual work of opening the lock gate. It’s what crew are for really!

By lunch time we could see the Thuin moorings and were lucky to find plenty of space at the upstream end. Here the quay was a better height for Calliope.

Although there is a Steak House alongside this is not open yet, and it was one of the quietest town moorings we have ev er encountered.

Currently there is not water or electricity on the moorings, but a big sign to say that all of this is being developed and will be available soon.

Already there is a useful tap inland of the path approximately half way along the low pontoon mooring.

After lunch it was on to exploring the town which is divided into the Haute Ville at the top of the hill, and the Bass Ville at the bottom, by the river, which is known as the batellier’s, or boatman area. Day one was to explore at the top, including following a route to see the .hanging gardens. These are residential gardens built onto small terraces down the southern slopes of the hill – there is little flat land to be had!

It certainly was a hilly route, with narrow paths and alleys winding up and down. To be honest little could be seen of the gardens as they tended to be behind walls and gates, but it was an interesting walk.

And the considerable effort of the walk was a good reason for a beer in the square at the top before going back to Calliope for a floating supper.

As mentioned above, this was a peaceful mooring, quite some way from roads, bridges and railways.

We passed a tranquil night.

We always enjoy our encounters with animals as we pass along our way.

This young cat lived nearby and is obviously fascinated by boats. She would sit looking at our boat for ages, and then come aboard in quite a proprietorial manner.

Sunday morning she was at her bravest, inspecting the waters from the bow.

But things did get noiser later, as you will read.

We could hear something being set up along the quay – there was a PA, the start of a bar, and a gathering of people. But time for us to walk around the battelier’s area first.

It is another area of small houses, mainly cobbled streets, and narrow alleyways. These days it is becoming ‘gentrified’, but one can imagine the tough lives and close knit communities of the past. It started to rain as we walked so we spent less time there than we otherwise might.

Back at the boat we began to get an idea of the event that was to unfold. There was to be a race on the river, using unusual craft, for reasons not quite understood by its, but obviously to be fun. We went to watch the start, and were surprised to see the ‘starting gun’ was some kind of old fashioned blunderbuss!

Here is a link to a video of the start, including the first capsize, within 20 seconds! https://youtu.be/Yg543RuXGKU

We discovered that the event was a bit of fun linked to the marketing of cherry based drinks and pate (yes, pork paté containing cherries) by the Confrérie du taste-cerise de Biercée. This is a brotherhood who jointly promote and sell local products, many including cherries. Worth looking them up if you are in the Thuin area!

They held the race again and again and again, some of the competitors being fuller and fuller and fuller of beer and Flambée!

Cherries and Griottes being two of my favourite flavours in an alcoholic context it is not surprising that I managed to but some samples – just €1 for a shot of La Flambée, a 33% d’eau-de-vie with a 12 month sozzled cherry at the bottom of the glass – so strong that it almost blew my head off!

Yes, it made me quite cheerful!

To clear our heads before the evening we went off to follow the tram tacks and find the tram museum. We were taken up over the hill away from Thuin and into the countryside – a lovely walk. The tram operates from the museum into town and also up over the hill – probably just at the times that the museum is open but we didn’t check.

As evening arrived we thought we would try the frituur on the corner, after I had a walk to get closer to my 10000 steps for the day! Just as I returned the heavens opened and rain absolutely poured down!!! I dashed to cover under one of the umbrellas set up but the Confrèrie, and watched as the street began to turn into a secondary river! Hmm, an excuse for another shot of La Flambée!

At last the rain stopped enough for Stewart to join me and the beer I had ordered for him – and to meet one of the senior figures in the brotherhood.

And from our new friend I was also able to buy some of the pork paté with cherries – very rich and much more to my taste than to Stu’s!

All the more for me then.

Other than a somewhat disappointing frituur experience that I had to queue half an hour to buy, that was the end of a wonderful time on Thuin. We would recommend to anyone making a stop there! So next morning it was cast off under a down cast sky and head on upstream towards the French border. Only two more stops until we are there; we could have dashed across in a few hours, but we are enjoying our amble along the Sambre.

Merbes-le-Chateau appealed because of its DBA (Butch Barge Association) description as a ‘basic mooring in a quiet area’. We had plenty of water from the last time we filled up Leers Nord just over two weeks ago, and our PV panels mean we virtually never need to plug into a marina’s shore power.

We were back to rather grey travelling, but that often leads to calm waters and good reflections.

We had three locks to navigate before we reached Merbes. And it was at the second that we had a surprise

A big sign at the end of the lock warned of work going on in the river on the next bief, or stretch of water.

And sure enough as we rose up with the water in the lock we saw almost the whole width of the river blocked by three working vessels.

They quickly moved to one side – I was impressed by the speed of the manoeuvre – and could see as we went past that a major dredging operation was going on. We passed a succession of empty barges being pushed down river to then be loaded with mud and brought back to be unloaded somewhere up river.

By the time we reached our last lock of the day the rain had begin to fall – a light summer rain, but still capable le of giving you a good soaking while you stand in the bow at a lock, so I was prepared!

He was able helped by his mate – maybe also an éclusier – so that despite the manual potation of everything we were soon on our way.

Our mooring was a couple of kilometres further along, one side or the other of the bridge at Merbes. It was up to us to choose what looked best for Calliope as we arrived. For us having the bow, with our cabin beneath, furthest from the bridge was likely to be quietest overnight.

It wasn’t long before we began to wonder who had described it as quiet! A lorry, a large van, a JCB, some men with an angle grinders and a huge street cleaning vehicle all reversed down the slope behind us and began to work along the riverbank road! But it did not take long, and in fact it is all part of Wallonia Waterways bringing the river up to scratch for an increase in boaters now that the river is open through France.

Our other interruptions were the regular ‘pushers’, bringing the mud barges to and from the works down stream.

They all had friendly crews, and again it is good to see waterways being brought back to life.

We went off for a walk, as usual, after lunch. This time, after a quick tour of the small village, we set off to cross the river on a footbridge and into a green pathway.

Signs of autumn are coming in already, ands n to even the end of August, There were masses of sloes that will be ready for sloe gin in a few weeks, but we will have moved on.

On our way back we got up close to the dinosaur at the opposite side of the river to our mooring. I tried offering food, but to wasn’t interested!

As the day drew to a close, with lorries and mud barges gone home, it did become the promised quiet mooring.

Through the trees we could just see the unusually shaped church steeple, and could listen to it strike the hours.

The following morning we were back to blue blue skies, and into a different kind of farmland, wide open pastures, with cattle grazing. These are very pleasant scenes to voyage through; relaxing and natural. There was less than 5 kms to the French border and we were to moor on the old customs quay at Erquelinnes, just a few hundred yards away.

We were delighted to have this Jersey Tiger moth aboard at the start of the journey.

When it opens its wings to fly the underwings are bright red.

The roof was still wet with dew, hence the bubbly effect of the roof!

On the port side we came upon the place where the mud was being unloaded from the barges, and presumably taken away in lorries.

This sillty soil will be welcomed by many gardeners I think!

We came through Écluse 1 of the Belgian Haut Sambre – a small, happy lock, with the bollards painted different colours.

This made it very easy for the Captain to let crew know which bollard to use – “You take the red one and I will take the blue”.

There is a large port at Erquelinnes, with a narrow en trance from the river.

Calliope could fit through, but as usual we went fore the quieter more solitary mooring a bit further up the river.

We were very content on the customs quay. Behind us was over 100 yards of empty wall – occasionally used by fishermen and women and young lads swimming. Overall a perfect place for us, so we stayed two nights!

We were in need of a re-stock of the cupboard and fridge, so we set off on a half hour walk to the road with three good size supermarkets – and with fresh milk at the top of our shopping list. We filled up several shopping bags – but not with fresh milk. None was to be had in Erquelinnes!

So that created the plan for next day. We would walk along the river, over the French border, and in the next town, Jeumont, go to the Carrefour where fresh milk is normally to be found.

It was a successful walk in every way. The weather was perfect – sunny but not too hot. The industry and the nature along the riverbank was interesting; we saw disused factories, the site of an old pont levée, a rat, a lizard and more besides.

Jeumont Carrefour came up trumps with the milk, and also my favourite salmon parmentier and the Captain’s favourite St Felicien cheese, all smuggled back into Belgium undetected ….

We inspected the halte nautique next to the bridge, but could not tell if the electricity and water now worked – a DBA member passing a few years ago mentioned that they had been switched off.

The sun continued to shine all the way back, lighting up the teazle barbs.

We found out that the nearby port was originally very much a working port

In the afternoon we went to have a look at the port. It is very big – 300m long and 45m wide. Although the entrance, under a railway bridge, looks narrow it is easily wide enough for our 4.2m wide barge, as can be evidenced by the barges already in the port. I have tried to discover the historical industries off the town, but apart from seeing plenty of farms around I cannot work it out.

As we returned from our exploration I was tempted to go for a swim myself – but this time I was more restrained and only my toes got wet.

The bush at the end of the quay marks the en trance to the port, and Stu was on our back deck taking this photo – so you can see how close we were.

And with one last reminder from nature of our cruise along the Belgian Haut Sambre from Charleroi to Erquelinnes I will end this chapter.

(We think it is an owl feather)

Late Summer in Belgium – part 2

The voyage to meet Mieke and Frans

Canal Bossuit-Kortrijk, L’Escaut and Canal de L’Espierres

5 – 14 August 2021

Sluis 11 Kortrijk-Bossuit Canal; our first of the season.

(Think I have included far too many photos! Apologies, but hope you enjoy them)

Here we go at last! After 9 months of Covid- delay in the UK, and then quarantine in Kortrijk when we returned to Calliope, the day finally dawned when we could go cruising again. When we planned and bought Calliope in 2014 our whole idea was to spend six summer months of each year travelling the inland waterways of Europe and seeing cities, villages and the countryside from canal and river perspectives. So after 5 years of all going to plan it was disappointing in 2020 to wait until mid June to get started, and even worse this year to wait until the start of August! All Covid rules driven of course, and we do realise that we are so much luckier than many, having the health of ourselves and our family intact and owning this beautiful craft to escape to.

This was our first ‘naughty talk’ (Nautic Talk) experience. During the winter we had followed the advice of Mieke and Frans, Belgian bargee friends, to buy these in order to communicate much more freely along the length of a 19.8m boat when coming in to moor in locks etc. We certainly could hear each other better, including every bit of heavy breathing and burp! Joking aside, they are very useful.

We came up 1, 2, 3 small locks at the start go the Bossuit-Kortrijk canal with the assistance of a friendly lock keeper who journeyed by car between the locks. The last lock came out upon a summer school of excited young canoeists, who dashed safely to one side as we emerged.

Nature was very evident as we moved along – water lilies, young water fowl and plenty of green.

Our friends from Happy Chance cycled speedily ahead and took a photo of us passing through. It is always a treat to get a photo that someone else has taken as it can show both Stewart and I aboard – he is the shadowy figure in the wheelhouse!

We also passed by ‘Miss X’, the boat belonging to a Belgian friend of ours. He has sent many hours converting her from a fuel barge into a boat to live and cruise on. He is doing a great job!

Soon we came to our first big lock of the season. We were still rising along the canal, so easy to attach to the floating bollards at the bottom of the lock and float to the top!

The next lock, Moen, was the start of our descent and before too long after that we were mooring up for the night at the end of the canal just before Bossuit, the final lock down to the river Boven-Schelt / Haut-Escaut (depending on whether you are on the Belgian or French side/end of the river!).

That evening there was more of the constant communication between ourselves and Mieke, working out where we would meet. They would be coming from the opposite direction on the Escaut, having come down the Dender river, but were currently waiting at Ladeuze for a change in the weather. It looked like we would have a few days to kill and could look for a diversion.

A glass of beer – Kreik in my case, always seems to help with map redoing and course plotting!

We had agreed with the Bossuit lock keepers that we would take the 0900 lock down. As I was slowly getting up and enjoying my cup of tea I felt the boat moving and on looking out the window I spied a very large working barge coming out of the lock. She had just come up from the river below.

The lock was now ready for us, but luckily the lock keeper was happy to wait until I had my breakfast before we slowly and calmly dropped down 9.5m.

The lock doors opened and we were out to meet the Haut-Escaut – we were turning to starboard into the French speaking Wallonian section! A change of language was required – the one we find much easier.

The river opened up ahead of us as we set off upstream towards the junction with the Canal de L’Espierres – a small and relatively unused canal that goes through to Lille, changing its name at the Franco/Belgique border to Canal Roubaix.

The morning’s blue skies were wonderful for our trip – but the sun doesn’t always shine and within half an hour we were peering our through a rainy windscreen.

I was looking at the Visuris live water traffic app so that we would know of there were any commercial barges in the vicinity, and (apparently) there were none. Then we went round a bend to find two in front of us – and I realised that Visuris covers Flanders whilst we were now in Wallonia!

As Stewart began to plot his course between them I realised that we were passing the tiny entrance to the canal we wanted!

Luckily there is a very wide junction to allow barges to turn into the canal at the right angle, and after an unplanned 360 degree turn we were heading towards the Canal de L’Espierres, which looked so narrow we were not sure we would fit!

Of course as you get nearer it starts to look wider and as the Captain expertly steered is through, despite the cross wind trying to take Calliope off course, we saw that we had at least 1ft to spare each side!

Then we were through and the canal opened up a little wider as it bent away to the left. It was green and calm; here is where we could enjoy whiling away a few days until Mieke and Frans were moving towards us.

Soon we met our team of éclusiers for the L’Espierres part of the journey. They met us by the first lock and explained they would be with us through the next 3 lift bridges and another two locks.

The first lock was a delight, and a reminder of all the locks on small canals we have travelled. Then after the first lift bridge we saw a quiet mooring with a good pontoon so asked if we could stay there overnight. It was agreed they would join us again next morning.

So moored up at Sainte-Leger we settled down for a quiet afternoon and night. The only excitement came from my walk the other side of the canal where I discovered a wonderful little dairy farm shop and returned with a bag of goodies! Oh and the arrival of another boat on the pontoon, owned by a very pleasant French couple who shared the journey with us next day.

Next morning dawned bright and sunny; just right for some toast with butter form the dairy farm, and the cows who made it seen in the distance.

Our team returned and the two boats set off. All seemed very tranquil until the second lock of the day at Leers-Nord, where three small boats came down, we went up, and then found our hoped for pontoon for the next few days was full.

Luckily we could see that there was also mooring against the steel shuttering along the bank, with good metal Ts to tie up to. But wanting to turn round we first made a short excursion into France to the nearest winding hole.

Then back to Leers-Nord and tied up to the yellow Ts. And there we were right next to another Piper boat, ArchAngel, belonging to people we met briefly last year; lovely to see them again! We were invited on board that evening for a drink or two, and plenty of good conversation.

We all know each other far better now! And Stewart has met a new Belgian beer – a strong blond!

Apparently it means slob!

Back home for supper, followed by a glass of wine.

Sometimes the contrast between the outward natural calm of the waterway and inward mild chaos of our lives is almost captivating.

The weather was being very variable, from downpours and thunder to bright breezy sunshine. Seizing my chance I set off in the latter for an evening walk along the bank, briefly saying goodbye to Wallonia, then turning back as the skies darkened again!

Next day was a day at Leers Nord. There was a bread run to the local Del Haize supermarket, clearly set up for its role on the French border to see tobacco at a cheaper price than the shops over the border – the other side of the street!

And there was more maintenance and cleaning of Calliope in between the thunderstorms – she is starting to look quite spruce now. My cleaning efforts were observed by some very sad fishermen on the opposite bank! Eventually they did pass the time of day with something like a smile.

Each day I take at least a short promenade along the canal, mostly for exercise but also to discover flowers, insects (the non-biting varieties), birds and occasional animals. I have been amazed by burdock – presumably of the dandelion and burdock variety, which I have never knowingly seen growing before. I also love the wooden steps put against the bank to help her climb to of they fall in – only at the French end!

Then there are the incursions of the natural world into the wheel house – normally winged, and sometimes just the feathers picked up along the way.

And each evening, weather permitting, we sit on the aft deck, wondering at how lucky we are to lead this life.

Day 3 was a Sunday. Stu and I went to Del Haize again, for a bigger stock up this time. I turned a bit later to buy a few pants to replace the weeds in our two plant troughs. I was too late for geraniums this year and have made do with these.

Fingers crossed they will develop and become a bit more of a floral display!

In the early evening we went with our ArchAngel neighbours to the local bar, conveniently placed along side the lock only 150 yards away. Stewart was introduced to two new Belgian beers, each with its own special glass, while I had my usual Kriek. Only another 2990 of the current 3000+ Belgian beers to track down and try!

Then back to supper and another beautiful evening on the back deck, facing the setting sun and the new set of wondrous reflections in the water and across the stern.

We decided to stay one more day, mainly to make it easier for us to fill up with water when ArchAngel left the pontoon the following day. In fact Tony from ArchAngel appeared with a long hose at Calliope’s bow, offering this to Stewart so that we could fill up where we were! An ideal solution, but by then we were content to stay the fourth night at Leers Nord. This would fit well with what was now an arrangement to meet Mieke and Frans at Antoing in a few days time.

Overall it was a good lazy day. In the afternoon we thought we had time between showers for a walk along the canal into France, over the first bridge, and back into Belgium and Leers Nord on the other aside of the canal. But as can be seen, we got caught in a short downpour and sheltered under the trees. Nothing like good summer rain to freshen everything up.

Next morning we were joined by Kati – a local lady who Stewart had met the day before and invited to join us for the cruise to Tournai. She has cycled and walked the canal and river paths in the area all her life, but never travelled them on the water. The same friendly group of éclusiers joined us for the set of locks and bridges Calliope must pass, each a new experience for Kati who loved it all.

After an hour or so we reached the junction with the Escaut, and the opening up of our horizons.

Almost immediately Kati understood thew difference in traffic on the narrow rural canals, compared to the big rivers!

The river in this area is a real mix of rural scenes and industry.

The industry itself is another mix, from derelict to ultra modern, providing some interesting shapes, shadows and outlines.

By now Kati and I decided that it was a good time to open the bottle of Clairette de Die that she had brought, and enjoy an aperitif with our mini cruise.

The poor Captain could not join in!

Before long we were entering Tournai under the ancient watergate bridge which is currently undergoing massive modernisation to allow for the passage of the biggest commercial barges. Of course it is sad to see the dismantling of the 13th century Bridge of Holes (photo from our voyage two years ago), but also good to see that the rivers and canals of Belgium have a thriving barge transport system.

The artists impression of the final ‘new’ old bridge is not so bad so maybe it will be OK when finished – and if you, like me, thought the artist had made a mistake with the rounded towers, take another look. The towers are rounded as you approach Tournai, and flat within!

So this CAD drawing shows the bridge as approached from Bossuit direction.

We came on through the city, under the newest bridge – a slim attractive modern structure, looking for, and finding, the ‘port’, tying up just before Strelitzia appeared round the bend. Already Mother Duck had brought her brood to look for bread!

We were pleased to find plenty of space in the new port and it was simple to be safely moored. Calliope is at the far end, looking quite small despite her 20m! At the moment it is free to stay here in Tournai. There is electricity supplied through very modern low bornes with QR codes on top to access a supply, but our PV panels were keeping the batteries topped up sufficiently.

The new wall built to protect the port works very well so very little wash from the big barges.

After a pleasant sandwich lunch on board, and more Clairette to drink, we ventured ashore for a walk round this intriguing, historic city. Having Kati with us meant we got a non-selfie of the two of us together.

Hooray!

I have only included a few photos of the cathedral and the Grand Place, but there are so many old buildings in side roads and down allies that Tournai deserves much more than an overnight stop. However we were on a mission to meet up with these very good Belgian boating friends the next day, so one afternoon and evening was all we had there.

After a quick shopping trip to buy sunflowers for Mieke and contributions to a planned barbecue that evening we were off, out of port Tournai and saying goodbye to the coot couple living just across from us.

There only 6 kilometres to cover from Tournai to Antoing and it was less than an hour before we turned to port to find a mooring place immediately behind Dreamer, Frans and Mieke’s barge. And in the background, the fairytale Rapunzel style castle of the Prince des Lignes.

What a moment! Back together after 10 months of Covid separation!

Mieke and Me!

Then followed four days and nights of eating together, drinking together, walking together and talking together, captured by this gallery of fun.

All of this includes Google or course, their lovely 20 year old dog who comes everywhere in her own carriage!

We tried several times to visit with the Prince (ha ha!) but had to make do with our wanderings around the perimeter. Actually there are open days, and there was one the day we were leaving, but it was already fully booked so we did not stay on for the extra day.

The Captain and I also took ourselves for a stroll `around the small Antoing park – joyfully mostly in the shade on what turned out to be a hot day!

It is worth mentioning that the mooring here is surprisingly pleasant – and we were almost at the edge of the little basin. We had views out across the Escaut – almost always something going on.

Thus it was finally time to part company again. Mieke picked a wonderful wild flower bouquet to brighten our way ahead. They were on their way to meet up with family, not seen for many Covid-separation months, and we were off to do a loop into France – the next chapter!!!

Bye bye Antoing

Late summer in Belgium part 1

July 28 to August 5th 2021

If you have been following the Calliope blog you will know that we were stuck in the UK well past our normal April return to the boat, and when the usual cruising season begins. At first we more concerned about the Brexit effect than anything Covid related, wondering how we could spend 6 months in Belgium and/or the Netherlands when neither country was offering a visa other than the 90 day Schengen one.

In the end it became immaterial because the spread of Covid-19 in the UK and in the EU meant that borders kept closing, requirements for tests and quarantine both sides of the channel kept changing, and overall we took several months to find a gap in the pandemic that fitted with other (UK) demands on our time.

So it was not until July 28th that we excitedly set forth for Dover and the ferry to Calais. The journey there was most remarkable for its speed and ease – it seems that many potential holiday makers were still being prudent and taking ‘stay-cations’ in 2021.

Our double vaccination certificates, passports and ferry ticket got us past all the possible hold ups at the Port of Dover. We didn’t even have to empty the car and prove we had no meat or dairy products with us. Good law abiding us; we had only brought what was permitted food wise, plus a few spare parts for the boat and a new toaster.

The crossing was in a force 5 to 6 south westerly and could have been a little rough, but the ferry ploughed through it nobly and quickly. It was sufficiently smooth to enjoy the complementary meal that DFDS were giving to the few non-freight passengers. And we were reminded of one of the benefits of Brexit (of which we are not great fans overall) – duty free shop! We were so amazed at the prices that we bought Kraken rum, Zubrowka vodka, gin and Bacardi, plus some wine. That should keep me going until Christmas – unless we have visitors aboard, which would be very nice.

The run from Calais to Kortrijk was also uneventful, apart from the joy of coming back into Kortrijk, recognising familiar places, and before too long looking down at our boat from the footbridge over the river.

Hooray! Back where we belong!!!!

Now we just have to find pleasant ways to get through the 10 days of quarantine and the two necessary PCR Covid tests before we are free to cruise on our merry way.

(I didn’t mean that ➡️ kind of ‘merry’! That was just evening one relaxation)

One of the main tasks is to give Calliope a good clean – just outside because inside was as sweet smelling, clean and dry as when we left her the previous October. But the outside was somewhat grubby after an autumn/winter/spring of leaves, blossom, dust and birds. And the geraniums and herbs left on board in the lee of the wheelhouse had definitely succumbed to the weeds!

Plenty to do!!

And so quarantine begins with the chimney skyline opposite, down to Broel towers -a view that I have come to love.

Day 2 – walk two miles to get tested and take opportunity to ‘escape’ quarantine a bit longer by having a baguette by the river on the way back both tested negative – phew! Later there was food shopping to do (yes, it is allowed). This meant passing the bridge at the end of the port that we must revers under soon, and the first lock of the Kortrijk-Bossuit canal that we will go through soon.

The Captain turned shipwright, plumber and electrician later, fixing a new sensor to the freshwater tank (so that the guage reads correctly to show how much we have left) and replacing the electrical connector that was broken during the fallen tree episode last winter.

Despite having bought enough food earlier to make several meals, we collapsed into our first ever experience of Deliveroo, ordering pizza and salad from our favourite Pizza Cotti restaurant in Kortrijk, and being slightly amazed when it actually turned up – albeit on the bank opposite!

Luckily there is a footbridge within 25m, in the centre of which I met the delivery man with arms outstretched, at a quarantine distance!

Day 3 – the start of the clean up, with the aim of getting rid of all the main dirt and then we can do a second ‘shiny’ clean later. Made a good start – just look at the difference, mainly from the Captain taking mop and bucket to the cabin roof and deck.

I made a start on the canvas wheelhouse roof and dog box covers, and cleaned up the PV panels for maximum electricity generation – when the sun shines!

There are various things apart from cleaning Calliope to keep us amused. One of the most endearing is watching the various birds and their antics. We feed them occasionally so they come looking for food every day – not the grebes of course. We don’t have any fish for them!

The rain came to wash off more of the dust and dirt as I had hoped, and left us with an evening of gleaming roofs on the Broel towers and St Michael’s church towers in the background.

Day 4 – we needed for milk and bread and it was Sunday. The only local supermarket open on a Sunday is the Carrefour across the main river so we set off for essential supplies.

Here we are mid stream.

The rest of the day we spent dodging rain showers, cleaning windows, adding a neat white stripe along the hull, playing patience and learning Dutch.

Always plenty to do!

Overnight there was more rain; always a comforting soothing sound to be tucked warm and dry up on your Piper with the rain drumming on the cabin roof! But we did want to do more outside work on the boat next day so …..

…. Day 5 – pleased to see this through the kitchen hatch when I got up in the morning!

The boat cleaning and maintenance continued . It’s surprising all the nooks and crannies that collect dirt, sycamore seeds, algae and spider webs during the winter. And the movement of the boat always takes its toll on the paintwork. Luckily we gave everything a good clean before we left last October so inside and out it is all manageable. And keeps us occupied during quarantine!

Our self imposed reward – a sundowner drink on the back deck; Captain and crew at peace with the world!

Day 6 – we had been warned that we would need to move Calliope before 0830 so that we were not splattered when the pontoon was jet washed.

I was still in bed drinking tea when I heard the early rising Captain out starting to untie ropes, so I thought I’d better get up, dressed. and on duty on deck.

I was just in time! You can see in the photo the difference between the new section of pontoon, and the section waiting to be cleaned up.

Then onto a wonderful moment – casting off and feeling Calliope move beneath us again!

Here we go – all of 300 yards astern down the Leie! We were aiming for the mooring belonging to Pavot and our friends Martin and Sally – they were away cruising in France. And it wasn’t long before we were tied up there.

We have temporarily borrowed Pavot’s mooring before – it’s nice to be among the trees.

And we get a different view from this mooring – we can see the big Commercial barges go past the end of this arm of the Leie, and prepare for the bow wave to move down the channel towards us.

One sees many aspects of nature from the barge – all of it interesting even if commonplace.

This, I think, a Speckled Wood butterfly that came to visit on the wheelhouse.

The bow waves cause wonderful distortions of the reflections in the water – a mixture of Dali and Monet!!

We could se the pressure washing procedure taking place back where we had been moored, and by mid afternoon all was clean and clear for us to return – our second cruise of the day!!

And still officially in quarantine!

That was enough excitement for one day, apart from the phone calls from Brussels Covid quarantine checkers to ensure we were on track for our second PCR test the next day – after which, I was told, my case would be closed!

But still plenty of time to continue with the maintenance tasks, and removing some more spiders.

Day 7 – a day of hope! We went and collected the car to drive to the Laboratory for our second test, and were met again by friendly staff who helped us with form filling and soon had us back out in the fresh air. We used the car to collect a few things from the Brico (DIY store) and a stock up on food and wine before back to the boat for lunch and to await our results.

It isn’t long after that another Piper boat chugged into view and to moor behind us. We had been expecting Happy Chance and although we had not met her crew before we were delighted too say hello and arrange for a meeting over beer that evening.

The plan was to go to our favourite bar in the park (as long as our negative results came through) but just as we were about to set forth the rain came down so we all settled down on Calliope instead.

After some beer, wine and nibbles we all knew each other quite well! But Stu and I had planned supper out so it was time for a temporary parting of the ways.

We set off to one of our favourite Kortrijk casual dining experiences – Pitta Pyramid – Egyptian food from a lovely friendly little restaurant where the owner always amazes us by remembering us! We definitely filled ourselves up here and waddled back to the boat. Our last night in town for a while passed very pleasantly.

Day 8 – We had initially hoped to leaver Kortrijk on the 10am lock up from the river Leie into the Bossuit – Kortrijk canal. But it was already booked, so we slipped down to the 2pm lock. This meant we had a few extra hours before we left.

Kortrijk has a summer of art installations across the city and we managed to see a few as we sped round the centre (on foot) buying a new Ships Log, beer replacements, and looking for a new chopping board (failed on that last one!). Then time for a coffee with new friends on Happy Chance before lunch and …. we are off!!!!

First lock of the 2021 voyage – Sluis 11 Bossuit – Kortrijk canal. Photo credit to Happy Chance crew.

The long Covid winter

Well it is now nine months and six days since we left our lovely Calliope secured for the winter in Kortrijk on the river Leie. We had expected it to be for six months and nine days, not the other way round! However the various twists and turns of Covid-19 have made it difficult to return, either because of UK restrictions or Belgium restrictions.

So here is a little short bloggette about Calliope’s last 278 days of isolation.

Preparing to leave last October – down come the flags.

Captan and crew went through the normal cleaning and de-cluttering procedures ready to put our barge to bed for the winter – expecting to return in a couple of months to check on her before Christmas and again in February.

Little did we know!

October 22nd – goodbye Calliope, goodbye Kortrijk ducks and coots – our friends on the river Leie.

Then home by Eurostar to the UK and 10 days quarantine – not too bad when you have a pleasant view of the water out towards Portsmouth Harbour. We were all set up with home deliveries of food, jigsaws to complete, books to read and Dutch to learn; the time sped by and we were sort of free, within the Covid restrictions of the time.

It was soon apparent that we could not go back before Christmas, but our friends on nearby barge Pavot were keeping an eye on Calliope, as was Wim, the harbourmaster, so no real concerns. We began to plan for an unknown Christmas; would it be full throttle with 12 of the family, or just two households, or no gathering at all?

In the end it was rather a quiet affair for everyone on the UK!

Calliope in Kortrijk on December 31st 2020 – taken by our friends on Pavot

We had been alerted of the need to have evidence that Calliope was in Europe before Brexit, to avoid potential tax implications, so asked our friends on a barge 100 yards away to take evidential photos on New Years Eve. There she lay, in the great light of a Belgian winter, awaiting our return.

January 2021 – waving to boats from Haslar seawall, Gosport

We bowled on into the New Year, certain that by the time we planned to go back to the boat in April the pandemic would have calmed down and it would be travel as usual. In fact our bigger concern was how to get 6 months in Belgium and The Netherlands following Brexit, than any worry about Covid. France was offering long stay visas for tourists, but not either of the two countries we were planning to be in.

There are always boats to enjoy here at home as well as when we are on Calliope. The two new super carriers, RO8 and RO9, made various entrances and exits of Portsmouth Harbour; we have a good view of their berths from the bridge at the end of the road.

In February Stewart fixed up two of the things I had been missing most in a house with no garden – plants to care for and an outdoor washing line. These were both erected on our little balcony and both gave me great joy and a feeling of outdoor living again – while we waited for Coronavirus to pass. And even with this you will detect a background of water – we don’t ever seem to get too far away from sea, river or canal!

Jigsaws, bought, gifted and borrowed, kept us challenged through the long days – this is just a selection! We began the jigsaw trek while we were out of the water at Zelzate last October for the hull re-blacking and found it a fun way to achieve something when so much else was out of bounds.

We were please and excited to have our two Covid vaccinations during the Spring, and felt fully covered for our trip – except that the countries of the world were winding through a series of red, amber and green states, testing regimes and quarantine periods that were making planning almost impossible.

April arrived and we were still in the UK. Then mid month an interesting email arrived from Wim, the harbour master at Kortrijk – with the subject Omgevallen boom – or fallen tree!

A tree had fallen in the night and partially landed on our barge! You feel so far away and powerless when something like this happens and you are not permitted to travel.

Luckily Wim had things well under control and soon the fire brigade arrived to remove the tree – and our friends on Pavot came along to inspect for damage. There seemed to be nothing more than twigs and leaves – although we still need to check that the PV panels have not been affected. (fingers crossed!)

A further email informed us that in cutting up the fallen tree our electricity connection was broken – but once more the friendliness and resourcefulness of other boatsman came to our rescue and we were sent a photo of the repaired connector.

A new one was ordered on line and put into the box marked ‘boat’ which we hoped would one day accompany us back to Kortrijk.

Another purchase for the boat while we were in the UK was the so called ‘marriage savers’. I was reluctant to buy them, knowing that my marriage was safe, but finally understood that for the Captain’s sanity it would be a good idea of he could talk to me from the wheelhouse to the bow, through the magic of radio. We tried out the Nautic-talk (or naughty talk as I prefer to call it) in the lounge of our house, getting as far apart as we could and trying to replicate the feeling of a 20m long barge going into a 20m deep lock with a gusty crosswind! I think it’s going to work.

The arrival of June still found us in the UK, watching the Covid figures go up and down both at home and across Europe, waiting for rules, tests, vaccinations and the planets all to align in our favour so that we could travel legally and safely to Calliope.

The silver lining of the Covid cloud was being able to see more of the family now that we were permitted to meet inside in groups of 6 and outside in larger numbers. We had a lovely day out at Churt Sculpture Park with youngest grand daughter and family. It gave the Captain a chance to introduce her to navigation!

I watched both grandsons play their last match of the season – and both teams won! Incredibly the friendly matches for the next season began before we managed to get back to Belgium – there no longer seems to be a summer break for football – especially with the Euros being played this summer as well.

June also brought flowers. These ox-eye daisies grow wild in front of our house, partly camouflaging the RN fuel depot the other side of Forton Lake! I began to realise that I would see my agapanthus bloom this year too.

June also took us north – first to the Lake District and the very moving, calm, spreading of our boatman friend’s ashes on Windermere. Then over to the North East coast, Scarborough to visit Stewart’s uncle and aunt.

The wife of our Lakeland Admiral came to stay with us for a few days. She found new waters – those of the Solent – and, I hope, some solace from being with us.

She and her husband had spent several holidays aboard Calliope with us – always good times.

June merged into July; full moons waxed and waned. Still we watched as boating friends went back to France, and as a few others sneaked into Belgium, never feeling confident enough ourselves that everything could legally be put in place.

Then, finally, everything seemed right. Various medical check-ups were complete, Belgium would let us in (with a few caveats such as quarantine and PCR tests), and a ferry booking was available. So that was it. We booked for the next day, went for a final curry, packed the car and were Belgium bound.

The drive to Dover was probably the best we have ever had, and it was just so good to see the harbour below us as we came down the hill to the port.

The crossing was a little choppy, but nor enough to cause any issues, and certainly not to stop us enjoying the complementary meal on offer from DFDS! Stewart saw a seal playing around in Dover harbour before we left. but other than that the crossing was uneventful.

It is strange how delighted and excited we were at each stage of the drive from Calais, past Dunkirk, down to Ypres, and finally to Kortrijk. It did feel like coming home.

And then, there she was – a bit grubby but in every other way shipshape – our Calliope!

The long Covid winter was over – October to July – we were back.

Hull maintenance in Zelzate

29th September – 23rd October 2020

As we left the marina at Spanjeveer dawn was breaking on a lovely late September day. We were on our way to have the hull pressure washed and repainted – part of the five yearly maintenance programme.

The Moervaart was glorious in the early light, and we shared the calm waters with geese preparing for their winter habitat.

Calliope came out onto the big Gent-Terneuzen canal as the sun was emerging from behind the chemical works and other industrial sites.

The hour and a half cruise from Spanjeveer to Zelzate was both pleasant and interesting for me – and required concentration from the captain as we moved through the huge canal towards the boat yard.

We passed our share of wonderful gigantic seagoing ships, powerful little tugs, and plenty of other working boats.

We arrived a little early and had a pleasant wait, getting to know our new surroundings.

Carron Marine is situated right on the border between Belgium and The Netherlands. A border patrol boat was a frequent passer-by, checking that no coronaviruses passed from one country to the other no doubt!

Then the fun began, getting Calliope gently ‘beached’ on the two trolleys that would pull us at the slipway. (Apologies for the washed up rubbish! Not us)

Before too long we were pulled out of the water and placed behind our friend Peter’s boat on the slipway and chocked up for our stay.

A quick inspection showed an intact bow thruster, 6 be-barnacled but solid anodes and a ‘gift wrapped’ propeller.

Our high rise living could now begin, 10’ above the ground and with superb views out across the canal.

Then began a few days of waiting our turn in a shipyard busy getting commercial barges back out to work. The yard is full of photographic opportunities!

It gave us free time to explore the area. There is not a lot to see in Zelzate but there is a small pleasant park between the boat yard and the town. The lake in the park is part of the original line of the river, complete with a small flock of geese and a ‘scenic’ chemical works on the other side!

The town itself is unpretentious, has all necessary shops and services, and a nice church.

It was easy to keep busy. There was end of season cleaning to do aboard and Stu fitted a new water pump one day. The weather was very variable – blue skies one minute and storm force winds and rain the next. The sunsets, directly behind us, were constantly stunning.

We walked a lot and went out for beer and frites with Peter one evening, finding more new beer to try!

The activity on the canal was never ending, day and night, from little metal skiffs to huge ocean going ships, tugs and Dutch border patrols.

Then, on a wet windy day, came our turn for work to start – the pressure wash, to remove the relatively small amount of weed, baby mussels and tiny barnacles. It felt strangely exciting!

The following week was a time of weather watching – waiting for weather windows that were long enough for sanding down, priming, top coating.

At last the grey skies were considered right enough and the guys got to work on the preparation, searching out all the little places where five years of enjoyable intensive cruising have left their little marks – all surface level scars thank goodness!

Then followed a couple more days too wet for painting, but good for watching what goes on around us and searching out interesting objects to photograph in the shipyard.

We also did more walking around Zelzate, discovering amongst other things the Mietje Stroel – their female equivalent of the more famous ‘mannekin pis’ statues found around Belgium.

And we bought a near impossible jigsaw to keep us busy – night and day!

And there was one glorious sunset after another, often flooding the yard with such golden light you would think I had a filter on the camera!

Then the weather set fair for a day’s painting on Friday! The first coat above the waterline was applied!

A glass was raised that evening in honour of the next stage being accomplished! This was not the best time of year to be attempting outdoor re-painting, but the coronavirus had put paid to the more sensible plans earlier in the year.

We waited on tenterhooks through a very wet weekend, watching the skies and the forecasts. Would Monday allow the second coat?

I did have some fun on Sunday, persuading the Captain to push me out on the metal skiff to grab a water logged branch that was trapped on the slipway rails!

Disappointingly it was grey and moist on Monday morning so we walked into Zelzate market and bought one or two goodies, then found a moment of sunshine in a the park for an impromptu picnic!

Amazingly when we returned to Calliope we found the team drying off the last of the rain drops from the boat and about to add the second coat! And on it went, followed by the requisite six hours without rain; hooray – great progress.

The jigsaw too was making progress – which would be finished first, the barge or the puzzle?

There was constant daily activity on the canal, but that evening saw 10 minutes of big sea going ships with attending tugs, border patrol boats and commercial barges all passing in a rush hour mass.

But it was clear that the seasons were changing and we made ourselves extra cosy with our Refleks stove – toasty warm.

We had everything crossed for good weather to continue for the final paintwork, so were relieved and smiling to see the sunlit dawn.

After two weeks the better weather meant that things were beginning to draw to a close – with the below-the-waterline paint being applied, and the jigsaw nearing completion.

In fact after a bit of a last minute shock when the ‘last’ two pieces didn’t fit ……

…. we were able to place the 1000th piece! So the jigsaw won.

The following day the final coat was applied and we stood back and admired what the team at Carron Marine had done – beautiful!

That evening we drank a toast to the ‘blackened’ Calliope as the sun went down.

While the work had been going on we kept busy with odd jobs around the boat, an autumnal clean, and more walking around the area.

There are things here that fascinate me, like the last old house in the old town of Zelzate, quite grand amongst all the cottages, and the potato vending machine!

And our last day was also the last day of pubs and restaurants being open in Belgium for the foreseeable future, because of coronavirus.

So we treated ourselves to a delicious meal out at the local Italian restaurant as a ‘last supper’. (There seems to be quite a bot of raising a glass of rosé in this blog! There must have been plenty of things to celebrate.

Before we left I grabbed a photo of the old customs house, now a B&B, where we almost stayed instead of staying on the barge! It is right next door to the boatyard, so a good place to stay for the non-intrepid.

Although sad to be leaving the area it was time to move on. Three weeks out of water trying to keep the repainted hull as dry as possible meant that we had been unable to use our black water tank, grey water tank and sink as normal. We were also running short on fresh water and had been bringing jugs of water on board from a nearby tap.

The steps down from the barge, and up to the loo and tap were getting colder each day, although always adventure and a bit like camping out.

But nights were quiet, dark and cosy.

Got going early removing chocks and blocks that had supported us and lowering us gently onto the wagons that would run us down the slipway.

(She went down faster than she came up ….)

Splash down was faster than we expected! Luckily Peter was on hand to take this video as I was not ready for the moment.

Having splashed into the water, we then needed to splash some water in and on Calliope before we sailed away. We and wash down filled the fresh water tank enough for the rest of the season, and I had a happy bit of wet-play hosing off all the dust and much that cannot help accumulating on the boat when you are in a busy yard for three weeks.

At last it was time to bid a fond goodbye Carron Marine, Alex, Joey, Tim, Martin and the rest of the team.

Then we were out on the canal heading south to Gent and going towards the Zelzate bridge that we had never seen open – today it opened!

Here are two happy Calliope crew – we’re back on the water! We are on the big Gent-naar-Ternuezen Kanaal, and enjoying every minute.

On the outskirts of Gent we stopped to replace our two gas bottles as we were just about out. The first place we moored up next to unfortunately did not have the right fittings for our gas system. Luckily less than a kilometre along the road was an alternative supplier so we set off with the sack truck – there and back twice and replaced both bottles.

We felt really good then. We had gas, freshwater, empty grey and black water tanks and fully charged batteries. All the utilities one takes for granted in the house are always much more interesting on a boat and you learn to use them wisely.

Before long we were through the bridges, round the bends, and back into Portus Ganda. Calliope settled her gleaming hull beneath the glowing October creepers. ….

… and we paid a short outdoor socially distanced visit to our great friends on Dreamer. Coronavirus sadly put paid to our plans for a reunion supper together, but there was just enough warmth left in the evening air for a half hour chat together.

Next morning we planned to leave at 9, but a quick glance at the waterways notices showed that the first lift bridge, just round the corner, was going to be closed for repair apart from a short spell between 1200 and 1230. This gave me time to walk into Gent for some more great bread, and a couple of treats – a mini Merveilleuse de Fred each, and a worstbroot to share.

Add to that the Gent mustard that appeared as if by magic on our roof that morning (thank you naughty Mieke mustard fairy!), and we were set to leave.

We said goodbye to a grey Gent in style with a sail-by of Dreamer and a farewell salute to Frans.

We had good views of some of the tremendous street art of the city, encouraged by the council, and appreciated the autumn colours along the banks – these at at Tolhuissluis.

Soon we had turned onto the Verbindingscanal, our chosen route out of town, passing all the interesting boats that are moored along both sides.

We had another wait before we went through the swing bridge as that is closed between 1230 and 1300; lunch is important. But after that we were truly on our way.

We turned to starboard to join the Brugsevaart, past many colourful houses and under a bridge that is in the process of being demolished, or so it seemed to us; we passed under without incident.

Next we approached the Ringvaart, the M25 of the canal world around Gent, often busy with mega-barges in both directions; we consulted the AIS system to see what was around.

All was clear so we poked our nose out, a quick visual check, and dashed across towards Brugge.

After a few kilometres a turn to port into the Kanaal van Schipdonk, or Afleidingskanaal van de Leie, took us on towards Deinze where we wanted to stay the night. Once again we checked the AIS and could see we would be following another barge along the canal.

That turned out to be a rather heavily laden, slow moving barge so we crawled along behind it until we reached the turning for Deinze.

There was a pleasure turning onto the Leie at Deinze. We have been up here a couple of times before. We knew where we were going. We had phoned ahead and checked that the bridge into the town quay was operating and that there was room to moor.

Our only two, pleasant, surprises were the new almost completed footbridge ….

…. and a ferris wheel next to the church. looking glorious as the sun began to set. It seemed to be there for half term and was going to bet going the following night. We would miss it – “shame”, said the Captain!

The weather was slightly less glorious when we left Deinze in the rain the following morning, but we had had yet another pleasant evening in this unassuming little town.

I missed most of the trip eastwards along the Leie due to a conference call Trustee meeting of a charity I work with, but I was called upon to be on deck for the two locks we passed through. At the first lock it was still raining, but by the second the skies were clearing.

Harelbeke Lock, the last one, on the outskirts of Kortrijk, has just finished a major design and rebuild, and is looking very smart.

So finally we came into Kortrijk, our current home port. What a wonderful, calming, end-of-the-season feeling, even though we had to squeeze into the 21 metre space waiting for our 20 metre boat! The Captain ceremoniously took down the flags and we were officially tied up for winter.

That left us a day and a half of cleaning, maintenance and winterising, moored up in our favourite spot.

There was also time for a final gobbled wafel! Due to the closure of cafés and restaurant ts it had to be a take-away, eaten in a cold grey, empty square, but delicious just the same.

There was left over bread that allowed plenty feeding of the ducks and coots and moorhens, causing more than one coot-war!

It was time to go home until next year, but also still time for an evening walk around Kortrijk to get a few more images to help me remember how lovely it is to be here.

Our journey home on three trains was straightforward enough, though was masks-on for the full six hours against the virus. Ever since we left the UK four months ago we have been wearing masks in public places so didn’t feel too afflicted – and, so far, it has kept us in good health – so well worth it.

Steerers’ Epilogue

And so – another great summer, with wonderful memories of places and people (and beers) we got to know along the way. The people in particular that you meet on boats are from all walks of life, but share the same insane and wonderful common denominator of a floating maintenance schedule – and will rally round anyone within that community needing assistance.

It’s a special life, and I’d just like to finish off Lesley’s last blog of the year if I may, by saying that we pinch ourselves all the time for these years we are enjoying afloat.

We were heading for Holland this year before the virus persuaded us to stay within the Belgium borders – and it has been a delightful adventure. We’ve been to fascinating places we’d not heard of months previously, and enjoyed every one.

Where will we be next year? It doesn’t matter, it’s all good!

Down and up the Durme

16th to 29th September 2020

We left Gent on the Tuesday, with a lovely send-off, knowing (or should I say thinking?) we had almost 2 weeks to kill while waiting to go into the boat yard for the 5-yearly hull cleaning and painting.

The cruise out of Gent was interesting in itself, up through the working parts of the port, going past not only big canal commercial barges but also the huge seagoing ships – some seeming to have lost their Plimsoll line!

And a few interesting little boats too.

Some kicked up a good wake; we almost felt back at sea!

The turn onto the little Moervaart canal (this is what the river Durme is named as it goes through the moor lands north of Lokeren) seemed very calm in comparison.

We had imagined turning immediately into the countryside! But there was a kilometre of industry to travel through first.

It was not far to the port where we had booked in for the night – the one by Spanjeveerbrug at Mendonk .

We were soon pleasantly settled in right next to another bailey bridge – that must be our third bailey bridge next to a mooring this year, and in fact in our lives.

It was so pleasant that we decided to spend a second night there too. I had cycled into one village for bread both days so Stewart and I took a walk in afternoon in the other direction out amongst the flat fields of the polders.

The first stage of our cruise one down the river towards Lokeren gave an indication of the lovely scenery to follow.

The journey down the Durme through the 7 lift and swing bridges, spaced over 16 kms, is done in the company of any other boats going that way – 2/3 chances each day depending day of week etc. We went to the first bridge and moored up for lunch, ready for a 1315 start.

The cruise down to Lokeren is constantly fascinating. We were lucky enough to go down in September sun, enjoying the rural views along the way. I loved the now defunct, non-moving, Vapeurbrug – more photos of this one on our way back!

We went through a succession of bridges in a small convoy of two boats – us in the lead – and at the last bridge our companion barge peeled off to moored on the waiting pontoon for the night.

We continued on towards Lokeren, with the river becoming increasingly bendy, including several hairpins. It also became increasingly busy with kayaks and small electric hire boats.

We would come upon these as we rounded a bend, towering above them, with the Captain making sure we didn’t hit any!

As we rounded the final bend into Lokeren port we were hailed from the bank by Tony, a Brit who lives on a boat there. He strongly suggested that we turn round in the slight widening of the bend and go astern into the moorings. So we did

It wasn’t that easy, us being 20m long and the winding hole being about 24m wide, and plenty of people stopped to watch super Captain Stu manage it slowly and carefully. At one point we were beautifully broadside on to the river, stopping all other water traffic.

But before long, at the end of quite a long day, we were comfortably moored up in the park-like surroundings of the town port.

We stayed for four warm sunny days, enjoying Lokeren’s ambience. The city is small with a centre that only retains a few old buildings – the allies bombed it by mistake towards the end of WW2. But there is still plenty to enjoy, with the river running through the centre, a lively central square, and quite a few fountains! It’s prosperity was built on making felt for hats, which involved cutting the hair off rabbit and hare pelts – hence the rabbit statues.

We treated ourselves to a frituur supper one night, in a funky 50’s diner style fritterie.

The food was good too!

We had a nature day, walking along the river and up into one of the many parks, a history day at the museum, and an art day, engaging with some of the sculptures that are all around the city – much of it metallic.

The art day was quite hot so we rewarded ourselves in the shade with a new beer for Stu (note the very classy bottle) and a new Kriek for me (note the rather bling glass!).

Apparently the beer was ‘thumbs-up’ good.

It was a very pleasant place to spend some September days ……..

……. although we awoke next morning to a completely different scene!

This was the day of our departure – the geraniums the only brightness in sight.

We had booked the first bridge at 1030 so Stu set off very slowly, round the twists and turns of the river, often only visible from the wheelhouse at the moment the bow reached the bend!

This took a lot of the helmsman’s concentration.

By the time we reached the first bridge at Daknam the midst was starting to clear, but it had been an exhausting trip and the waiting pontoon (with a 30 hour mooring limit) seemed delightful – so we decided to stop our voyage until the next day.

Moored up in the rising mist there was a sense of relief – no urgency to continue now; lovely lovely.

And as the mist cleared we discovered just how lovely it was, a very peaceful rural place to wait for 24 hours.

Just looking out of the window in the morning was a joy, watching the moorhens and coots finding their breakfast around the water lilies.

The little village of Daknam is quite close to the mooring. It has developed its own fame a being the site of the Lions Court in the medieval story of Reynaud the fox, who cheats the King out of his gold. A stuffed fox proudly stands beside the church and other reminders of the story are around the village.

But as I walked round the village my phone rang and it was the shipyard to let me know that our arrival date there was delayed by 5 days! New plans had to be made.

Only one night is allowed on the Daknam pontoon so we were still ready to go next morning at 1030, on a day with much greater visibility than the one before!

The sunshine and fresh air pulled me towards the other side of the river from the mooring and a quick walk between maize fields before we set off.

I promised more photos of the old Vapeurbrug on our way back – here they are. What a fabulous piece of industrial history.

We decided to enjoy our delay and headed for the recommended willow tree mooring at The Bavohoeve brasserie. This must be one of the prettiest places we have stopped, although the high winds that arrived later that day did rather cover Calliope with willow fronds!

The mooring is free but one feels obliged to eat there, so we had an extremely pleasant meal, isolated from the next table by big polythene sheets! I hope I did not disgrace myself too much by showing my appreciation of the mussel juice!

We asked to stay a second night, and promised to come up for a drink or two – equally enjoyable. The colours in the morning were glorious across the river, surprisingly with rape in bloom in late September.

It gave us a day in pleasant surroundings and I took a walk in breezy sunlight before a storm brewed up around us, whipping the willow branches around the wheelhouse while we were cosy within.

We had booked back in at Spanjeveer marina for our last few days on the Dorme/Moervaart and cruised up there in the sun before lunch next day. It took all of 5 minutes! We were only just round the bend, so soon tied up.

By the afternoon Storm Odette was spinning towards us alternating sun and squally showers. Captain monitored his ropes carefully as we were in for a night of it!

It absolutely poured with rain all night, and the wind blew noisily all around us. It was still raining in the morning, so a day aboard looked likely and I started the autumn cleaning of all the drawers on the boat.

The geese began their day on the mud at the side of the river, but as the waters rose a foot they climbed up onto the bank and watched from there.

Later the sun surprised us and made an appearance. We were running short of one or two essentials like milk, potatoes and onions, so I cycled off to the closest mini-supermarket at Zaffelare. It was a pleasant 15 ride there, and a pleasant 30 minute ride back, as I got lost!

I came back to the boat to a beautiful evening of racing clouds and happy cattle, back out after sheltering from the storm.

Two lazy days left until we are off to the shipyard. On Sunday Stewart and I walked to the closest village bakery for fresh bread – a country walk, much of it along a footpath between fields. We had plenty of time to do some internal boat cleaning and maintenance, getting ready for the winter shut down.

I was drawn outside again later and found another circular walk around country lanes and wooded tracks. I passed by this lovely little chapel, dedicated to St Bavo.

Our last day here at Spanjeveerbrug was wet again – all day! I discovered during our stay that the word ‘veer’ in Spanjeveerbrug means ferry, and I am not surprised that a ferry was needed here in the past – so much water! Actually the ferry went over the old course of the river, now a fishing lake.

So this is how Monday September 28th 2020 looked for us – weather for cleaning the fridge, cooking windfall pears in spicy wine, and dancing to my favourite Youtube videos. Off to Carron Marine in the morning!