Travel-report Canal du Midi 2001
We are in Avignon as I take up my pen for the first time to write about our voyage. It 's ten past seven in the morning and we just changed from the sleeping-train to a local train in the direction Montpellier. We had better sleeping-wagons than last year, but Marga did not sleep a wink all night. I, myself have been conscious of the train all the time but I could indulge in the shaking and the noise. In the morning Pepijn got train-sick.
We are going to navigate for the second time in the south of France. This time Marga's parents are coming with us. We navigate from Lattes, a small village nearby Montpellier and the coast, to Argens-Minervois which is between Béziers and Carcassonne on the Canal du Midi. When I look outside from the train, I see poppies and corn-stalks growing near the railway. We cross the Rhône by train and pass through Beaucaire. I catch a glimpse of the Canal du Rhône à Sète. In a side-branch I see some barges which are now used as house-boats.
Leaving Holland we took an hour and a half extra margin because of the many strikes during the last weeks at the railway-companies in Holland, Belgium and France. We left home in time to go to the station and so we left two hours before schedule. The trains appeared to run exactly according to the railway-guide. After changing trains in Rotterdam and Antwerp we have two hours in Lille before the night-train leaves. We have dinner in a restaurant opposite to the station. It 's very cheap and the food tastes good. After dinner I walk with Pepijn and Maarten through the city for a while. Surprisingly Lille appears to be a beautiful city with many historic buildings, beautiful squares and a lovely gothic church with an almost transparent tower.
In Montpellier, we drink a cup of coffee in a bar opposite the station and are wondering how we can get to Lattes with six persons and a lot of luggage. I make inquiries at bus and tram schedule but they send me from here to eternity. I guess we have to take two cabs. Then I see a large Renault Espace standing between the other cabs. This car succeeds to carry us all including the luggage and before nine o'clock we arrive in Lattes.
On our boat there are people still sleeping and we are told that it can take until half past three before the boat is ready for us. This is disappointing though the boat formally has to be transferred between four and six. I had announced our early coming in an E-mail a few days before we left and did not get a message back.
We accept our destiny and survey the port. Lattes appears to be a brand-new city built around the port. There are housings in colored stucco with romantic influences (arched forms) from the Moors with a strict symmetric concept.
When passes by very slowly we hear that our boat presumably is ready between two and three. We have gained one hour already. People are working hard on the boat. They fill the fuel-tank and the boat is navigated back to the port. I see a cleaner from Locaboat taking off a lid in the gangway. He connects a tube and opens the tap. Surprisingly after a while a yellow fluid appears out of the tank when it overflows. Then we smell fuel. I warn the cleaner on the boat: "Gazoil!" They immediately pull out the tube. On the water appears a considerable fuel layer. They had filled the fuel tank with water. From different places mechanics are coming and they are very abusive at the cleaner.
They get a big box from the office and throw white powder on the gas oil and the water. I fear we have plenty of time this afternoon to do some shopping. The supermarket opens only half past four. The boat is navigated away. They do very light-hearted to us. Just half an hour and then the tank will be pumped empty again.
Time flies and more and more mechanics disappear in our boat. Even the toilet is dismantled. On all kinds of places in our boat they find fuel. I think it was a bad idea to navigate the boat by itself.
The atmosphere on the quay is getting worse. Half an hour becomes one hour, later prolonged with an extra hour and a half. And after this hour and a half they refuse to mention a term at all. I fear for my navigation plan. When we don't pass the lock in the river Lez today, we are to late tomorrow morning for the opening of the bridge in Frontignan. This bridge is opened only twice a day in the weekend.
Meanwhile it 's time for the formalities. We don't have to pay for one rented bicycle because of the trouble. And when the boat is finally fixed we get a box of wine.
At last it 's time for the transfer of the boat, called 'Le Vidourle'. The mechanic explains everything patiently. He tells us that the boat has a right propeller. As he shows us where the water has to be filled, I ask him if he is sure there 's water in the tank. He laughs and says: Usually we explain where the water tank can be filled". The explanation takes more time then we thought. On this boat a lot of things are different from the boat we rented last year. There is much more converted to automatic operation and we have a bow propeller.
A lot of things faIl when we survey the boat. There is no bucket, no electricity cable and the wrong bedclothes while the time passes by. Tired of the journey and the long wait Marga's temper isn't very good anymore. Despite the offer of Locaboat to help us pass the lock in the Lez, we decide at half past eight not to go and to remain in the port. I explain this to the mechanic in my jabber French: "Toute la famille est en stress". He phones the message to his colleague who was gone to the lock in the meanwhile.
We buy a pizza and during the waiting in the pizzeria I am overwhelmed with sad feelings. My navigation scheme is collapsing. Because we could not pass the lock in the Lez, we will be too late for the bridge in Frontignan and because of that we can't reach Béziers on the first of May. On the first of May the locks are closed because of a national holiday and I had planned to navigate that day in the longest section of the canal. I have to make an alternative navigation plan.
At half past ten everybody has gone to bed. I drink away the disappointment with a glass of wine. Meanwhile white powder and fuel is drifting in all the corners of the the port.