The Journey -
Up and Away with Rosy

Our departure form Briare was delayed by a couple of days, as I wanted to meet friends from Castor, and their arrival was delayed.

In the meantime ...

There was a knocking on Rosy early one morning (0930 ish).  On investigation I found an English lady(?) with one of THOSE voices.  "I'm sorry to trouble you at such a ghastly and unearthly hour, but can you tell me the whereabouts of the Capitainerie?"

(The Capitainerie is the house/office where the Port Capitaine (Harbourmaster), Christophe works).

"Certainly" says I.  "It's ..."

She interrupted - explosively "And don't tell me that its the house on the right after walking under the bridge and passing the lock!"

There was then a L O N G silence as, for once, I was stuck for words, as she had forbidden me from telling her the answer to her own question!!!!

I eventually told her that she obviously knew the whereabouts of the only Capitainerie in town, at which point she got quite frustrated/annoyed with me.  I discovered that all she wanted to do was to park a car for a week, so I said "Right here will do" and she said it might be vandalised, and I said that this was France and that vandalism isn't a problem.  Then I closed the hatch and retired inside to another cup of coffee, thinking that if she DID park her car here, I might well vandalise the fu ...  ooops!!  sorry.  car, myself.

During the day, the nb Gadabout appeared.  The couple had been in Oman for a three-year contract, reduced to two-and-a-half due to the mid-eighties economic crisis.  He had taught English to the ISS.  The ISS is one of those organisations which, if you don't know what the initials stand for, you really don't want to know.  Honest.  If I tell you, I have to kill you before you go and tell someone else.

UNFORTUNATELY, the next morning, as they were leaving, Mrs Gadabout said words to the effect that perhaps I ought to think about putting the kettle on for a nice cup of tea, rather than drink all that beer!!!!  The last person to say such a thing to me was my mother.

And she died.

I live in hopes that perhaps Mrs Gadabout was merely alluding to the boxes of beer in Rosy's back cabin.  As boxes of beer are a bit heavy, when I'm offered a lift in car to a supermarket, I generally bring back half a dozen boxes (each containing 24x25cl bottles) so I guess Rosy does look a bit boozy.

Then Claire and James from Castor appeared, along with a Mike and Alison.  Mike and Alison are thinking about opening up a narrowboat hire business, so there was much talk of boats and finance over Claire's delectably cooked evening meal of veal.

Finally, on Wednesday 14 May we up-anchored (metaphorically) and cast off for the 2003 cruise.  Claire with Mike and Alison joined Fanny and me as we worked up through the three locks to the main line.  John Douglas photographed all this.  We stopped briefly at the Port de Commerce, for Fanny and me to say farewell to The Laird of Strathnaver and Jess the Woof.  John Douglas and James and the James/Claire dog Oriel came aboard for the voyage across the Pont Canal (Aqueduct) that crosses the Loire (it is currently the longest navigable aqueduct in the world), and at the far end John and Claire disembarked.  The rest of us pootled on to Chatillon sur Loire where we met up with Claire who had their car over and lunch.  Which we ate.  Then "farewell" and Fanny and I were alone on Rosy, and chugging gently away up the cut on a beautifully sunny May afternoon.  Chicken chasseur pour moi, dans le soir, et plus beaucoup de vin rouge.  Ah!!  Bliss-to!!

We didn't rise until 0900 the next morning - which was another beautiful day.  Yellow wagtails, a jay and a small snake swimming in the cut enlivened our day.  At lock 36 (Houards) the lock-keeper sells wine - Sancerre, Pouilly Fumé etc at quite reasonable prices.  We spent the night in the Port de Plaisance of St Satur, located in the Embranchement de St Thibault.  André was the Capitaine when last I was there, but he has, sadly, died.  The new boss is François - a very helpful and cheery man.

A proper, Brit, sailing boat was moored there.  The owners are obviously very rich - their boat is called "Suzanne Elizabeth" or it may be "Elizabeth Suzanne" - imagine the cost of signwriting all that on each side and the stern!!  They also had vibrant notices displayed saying that "This boat is protected by SAFEGUARD" or some such rubbish, so I guess there must be an SAS patrol holed up in the nearby woods keeping an eye on it.  Such signs almost make one wish that one had brought along mask, fins and snorkel and some limpet mines with one.  Ate the rest of the chicken chasseur for dinner.

The next morning, Saturday, Fanny ran along (on a lead) beside a bicycling me for some two and half kilometres to a hole in a wall and a supermarket.  And then back again.  We got back to Rosy, complete with an unwanted puncture, unmoored, and pootled up to Ménétreol (only some 2 km up the cut), where our lunch was extended until the next morning due to drizzle.  Drizzle ceased at 1900 (just after the locks close) so we went for a lovely walk down towards the Loire - a cuckoo serenaded us, and we watched a pair of goldfinches and a redstart.  Dinner was lightly cooked salmon in a court bouillon (with Sancerre wine) on a bed of spiced rice, washed down with lots more Sancerre.

Moored next to us was a Dutch style cruiser called Robert of Melbourne - a boat co-owned by five Oz families.

Toodle pip!!

Bill