Brittany Canal Day 6

We wake to thick fog - you can't see to the next bend. Someone from Locaboat is pressure-washing one of their boats and shouts "Slow down" to some idiot barreling past at an unsafe speed. Interesting that he used English, not French - it is the default option if you don't know what language the idiot understands.

Fog lifts mid-morning to blue skies and sunshine and we set off to go further towards Brest on the Nantes-Brest canal. We pass through the lock at Rieux before lock closing time, but we won't make it to Beaumont lock, so we stop at the tiny village of St-Congard, and go for a walk. Again the village seems deserted. Clearly at lunchtime the French are all eating dejeuner somewhere, not walking about. St-Congard is quite rural - vegie gardens and a grassy yard that has half a dozen goats and some hens. We have a peek in the church which is large and looks relatively new - stained glass is dated 1934. It would hold a couple of hundred people - in the entry porch it says "Mass on the third Sunday of each month". So much space, so little use.

St-Congard

Old and new

St-Congard

Interior of the church at St-Congard

We return to the boat and continue through the next lock. We are now passing through farmland rather than forest, lots of fields of sweet corn, an orchard, occasional cows and horses. We see one industrial building with a tall chimney which we later discover is the Emmental cheese factory.

Canal travel is so peaceful

On to the third lock for the day where for the first time we have to wait for someone coming downstream before we can go in. There's already a boat on the tie-up pontoon, so we just prop in the canal until the other boat goes past. Through the lock, round a couple more bends in the Oust and we reach Malestroit, tie up on the first pontoon because we think the one nearer the next lock will be more crowded. Go ashore, walk up the river, and confirm this. 

From there we walk into Malestroit which is another lovely French town - it's designated a Petit Cite de Caractere. A St Augustines Convent, a huge central square, lots of C16 and C17 houses, and a pedestrian-only area full of bars and restaurants. After a walk around this area we return to the main square where there is a supermarket as we need to re-stock breakfast juice and emergency rations in case we can't eat ashore some time (cheese, biscuits, fruit, eggs). Return to the boat to store the shopping, and then have a rest before returning to dine. It takes us a little while to find a restaurant that isn't complet, but when we do we enjoy the meal and find that once again we are in the same restaurant as three couples from England on a hire boat that was moored near us in St-Martin-sur-Oust. We have a chat on the way out and then do another walk around Malestroit before returning to the boat.

Oyster-seller in Malestroit

There will be more pictures of Malestroit tomorrow - it's very photogenic.

Brittany Canal Day 5

A grey day. We get started in the morning because there are two locks we want to pass through before they close at 12:30. The first is just around the corner from where we are moored, at the beginning of the canal. It's already open so we motor gently in, catch the ropes dangling down the lock sides and have a very pleasant chat to the lock keeper, a young girl who would like to visit Australia one day.

Next is a long straight stretch of canal, where the only challenge is going through some very narrow bridges. We bump off the sides of the first one, do better on the following ones. We meet one boat going the other way - Peter generously hugs the right bank as we approach and we have weed on the prop again, and it seems to be some time before we get rid of it all. Then the canal joins L'Oust river and we wind our way toward the second lock.

This lock is a much deeper one, but no requirement to do athletic rope-throwing - the lock keeper leans over with a long boathook and you just drop a line over it. Why they don't do that on the Caledonian I don't know. Not far past the lock we come to St Martin sur Oust, where there is a quite large marina as it's the depot for Locaboat, another canal boat hire company. It takes us a couple of attempts to back the boat in but we're soon tied up and going ashore to check out the village. 

Close to the marina we find a cafe that looks attractive but very full, so we decide to walk on and see what other options there are. We are actually walking away from Centre Bourg - when the houses peter out we turn back and walk in via the main road. The village is pretty, like La Gacilly on a much smaller scale, stone houses and lots of flowers everywhere. La Gacilly was full of tourists, people everywhere, St Martin is like the Marie Celeste, the only living thing we see on the streets is a very friendly ginger cat sheltering from the rain near the church.

The church in St Martin sur Oust

The only "people" we see in St Martin

It's not raining much, just a light shower which clears as we return to the river and head back to the cafe which seems to be the only thing open. We are ushered to a table for two, but realise that one of the chairs is occupied by a very fluffy ginger cat which is very much asleep. When spoken to it opens its eyes a fraction but shows no sign of moving. With a bit of stroking I manage to move it so that it's only occupying the back half of the chair, and I perch on the front half, thinking that it will go when I do that. By now half the cafe is watching, and suggesting that I might do better by getting another chair. Which I do, and move the cat and chair to one side, so for a while there are three of us at the table. Then as cats do, it decides it's time to get up, and I'm able to return one of the chairs to its proper place.

Our table companion, quite comfortable thank you

I'm going to miss eating galettes for lunch when I return - the savoury fillings seem to be slightly different in each cafe but all delicious. We don't usually drink at lunchtime, but as going onward in the rain isn't particularly attractive, we try the local cider with our galettes. Back to the boat for a quiet afternoon reading, catching up with email, doing a bit of washing, refilling the boat's water tanks until it's time to return to the cafe for dinner. This time we have traditional moules mariniere avec frites washed down with vin blanc, and finish with desert crepes. Although there are a number of boats here, it's very quiet, and the road now has no traffic - we'll sleep well.

Alternative form of transport

Our cafe

Brittany Canal Day 4

We have a chilly night after the rain, but we're snug in bed under two doonas. We have another leisurely start to the day as we can't get the heating on the boat to function, so there's no incentive to get out of bed. When we do Peter rings the boatyard to find out if there's some button somewhere we've failed to press. It takes several calls to get someone who has enough English to understand the problem, and then the answer seems to be that they'll have a look when we return the boat. We make some calls to family and friends, then, out of the blue, a technician appears who has no English at all. He and Peter establish via sign language that the heater doesn't work, he disappears, then returns about 10 minutes later with a blow heater we can plug in when on shore power. Peter tests it out drying a pair of pajama pants. Meanwhile I've started a midday Zoom with friends. As it starts the sun comes out.

When the Zoom ends we go ashore for another creperie lunch - at a different cafe because the one we patronised yesterday is fermé jeudi. The galettes are equally delicious (sauteed leeks in cream, topped with smoked salmon). We walk around La Gacilly again, buy some postcards, cross to the other side of the river to see a lot more of the "Australia and Beyond" photo exhibition. By now it's sunny and warm and I can feel myself getting sunburnt.

La Gacilly in afternoon sunshine

Amazing large photos of Australia on walls

Our boat, from the bridge (middle of picture)

There is major construction work going on around the weir, so we stop on the bridge and watch that for a while before returning to the boat. We debate whether to stay in La Gacilly another night and leave in the morning, or to return to the spot where we stayed on Tuesday night. I suggest we move at about 5pm, because I think there will be fewer boats coming upstream late in the afternoon, removing the excitement and challenge of avoiding them in the narrow L'Aff. We leave at 5pm exactly and don't see another boat. We do see a kingfisher and a heron, lovely.

Lovely peaceful journey down tree-lined L'Aff

When we get back to the junction with the canal we found there are two other boats on the jetty, but there's still plenty of room for us. We go ashore to plug in to shore power and find that we no longer have any credit. After a bit of head-scratching we go back on board and read the manual (in French) a bit more carefully and realise that there was a turn off process that we failed to execute when we left the first time, so we've probably provided someone else with several Kwh of free electricity, because our card now has zero credit. Dommage! Our newly acquired heater is useless. We think we can get the card topped up at our next destination, but for now, no 220v power.

Just as we return to the boat, it starts raining. Nothing for it but to grab the washing pegged to the lifelines and bring it in, then to open the wine, and feast on bread and cheese and the salads we bought in Redon (now a bit soggy, but OK).  Hopefully it won't be as cold as last night, but we can always dive below the double doonas to make up for the lack of heat.

Brittany Canal Day 3

A very relaxed day with a slow start from our very peaceful overnight anchorage. We turn off the Nantes-Brest canal into L'Aff, a narrow river that takes us further north. One is advised to stay in the middle of the river as there are overhanging trees on both sides and weeds along the banks. All fine until you meet a boat coming in the other direction. The first one we encounter has a very worried looking helmsman who is veering from side to side using the bow thruster, and going too fast for comfort. Our second is a boat with a more experienced crew and we pass comfortably. Third is a very wide boat and we have to hug the shore, collecting a few tree branches and some weed on the prop, but it washes off.

L'Aff

After a couple of hours in a green tunnel, we emerge at La Gacilly and berth there. This requires reversing the boat into a slot between other boats and Pladic (our boat) doesn't steer in reverse at all, but we creep in on an angle and get ourselves straightened up and moored with help from someone on another boat.

La Gacilly is a very pretty town, charming old houses, flowers everywhere, very arty-crafty with lots of ateliers. It also has a major photographic exhibition happening with large photos on the walls of buildings, on stands in parks and along the river's edge. The exhibition is titled "Australia and Beyond" and there are some great photos from our homeland, particularly a sequence showing the devastation caused by bushfires.

Old and new in La Gacilly

Cats know that black surfaces absorb heat

We lunch on delicious galettes at a creperie before exploring the town, and during our walk we stop off at a mini-supermarket and pick up the items we forgot yesterday like a gas lighter and bin bags for rubbish, as well as a bit more food and a bottle of wine. When we were untying at Glenac yesterday yesterday, I leant over the jetty forgetting that I had my reading glasses tucked down the front of my shirt, so they fell out and I watched them slowly descend to the bottom of the river. Today I look for a pharmacy so that I can buy a replacement. The new ones I find are much trendier than my lost ones, and no more expensive than buying reading glasses at home, so I'm happy.

We return to the boat for a bit of a rest and to do some communicating with friends. When we finish that at about 19:30 it starts to rain quite heavily, and we debate whether to brave the rain to go ashore for dinner, or eat on the boat. When the rain eases a bit the prospect of another French restaurant meal wins over eating takeaway salads on the boat. We are pretty wet by the time we find our way to Les Enfants Gâtés, but we are welcomed in and choose from an interesting menu of dishes with influences from all over the world. French food is such a contrast after England and Scotland - meals are smaller, lighter, and with a lot more veg or salad. It's not chips with everything, although we did enjoy excellent frites with our first French meal.

Brittany Canal Day 2

We sleep late after our long travels the day before. Once we get ourselves going, we head into Redon to find a supermarket. En route we find Chez Lisa, a very nice boulangerie-patisserie (also Snacking, according to the sign), and stop for breakfast. Fortified with a baguette complet, a croissant, a pain au chocolat and good coffee, we stop at the lock to see how it all works for later reference. 

On to the supermarket, stock up on essentials (the boat doesn't even come equipped with toilet paper). As we return we see a boat heading toward the lock, and stop again to see it come through. We then realise that it's 12:30, so lunchtime and the lock keeper won't return until 14:00. The driver of the boat comes to the same realisation, turns around and goes back down the canal.

We stop at Chez Lisa again for another round of coffee and buy bread, wraps and salads to take away. Back to the boat, unpack the shopping, farewell the boatyard dog and a couple of swans that have been regular visitors, and we're ready to go in what will be good time for the re-opening of the lock.

Boatyard dog visiting, eyeing off the swans, who hiss at him.

We are following the boat that we saw hoping to go through earlier. There is room in the narrow lock for two boats one behind the other, but the people in front are clearly first-timers and they stop as soon as they are inside the lock. Fortunately the lock keeper comes down promptly and gets them to move forward, and we can gently slot in behind.

After the Caledonian Canal locks, it's very easy. No line throwing, you just hang on to lines that are tied to the edge of the lock and dangle down the sides. It's also a rise of less than a metre, and there is very little surge when they open the sluices. 

Once through we let the other boat get well ahead, an just potter along at about 4kt, enjoying the scenery. There is a towpath along the canal and we wave to passing cyclists and two groups of school kids who cheer when we toot the horn for them.

Canal view

At about 4pm we reach a decision point where we can go on up a little river called L'Aff, or continue in the canal. But just before the divide, there is a very quiet pontoon with no one on it, so we opt for that instead. Time for a cup of tea, but then we realise we have a critical problem. In our briefing we were warned that the electric ignition on the stove only works when one is on shore power. Otherwise it's a lighter or matches. Is the boat provided with either? No. Did we remember to buy matches at the supermarket? No. Peter thinks he will find a way to create a flame - I am unconvinced. There is a power bollard where we are moored, but it is card operated with a special card that you have to pre-load with cash. Our boatyard provided the card, but warned us that it was empty and we would need to stop at Glenac to put some cash on. Fortunately Glenac is only about 15 minutes further on, and we do need to get the card charged sooner rather than later, so we unmoor, continue to Glenac, tie up there, charge the card, retreat from the mooring accompanied by half a dozen geese (too busy fending off to take a picture) and return to our peaceful spot for the night.

Swans, one swimming with wings partly raised all the time

Brittany Canal Day 1

If you are a regular reader of this blog, you may have noticed that there is no post for Sunday. That's because my carefully crafted timetable comes unstuck that day when our plane from Inverness to Amsterdam is 10 minutes late arriving, making us miss our connecting flight to Nantes, and there isn't another one that day. So instead of arriving in Redon on Sunday night, we arrive mid-afternoon today. The time in between is not worth recording.

We are still in plenty of time to pick up our canal boat from Les Canalous. Because we made a very early start this morning and we have caught a bus, a plane, (delayed half an hour - why couldn't that have happened yesterday?) another bus, a train and a taxi, we're not going to start our canal journey until tomorrow when we're rested and refreshed. 

Our new home

Skipper resting

As a step in the refreshment direction, I have just booked for dinner in a nearby restaurant to celebrate our arrival in France.

Sunset after dinner, just before we collapse into bed

Last day in Scotland: Sunshine, Scrabster and soccer fans

We walk out of our Thurso hotel in the morning into a blue, cloudless day. We walk to Scrabster, which is the port near Thurso that is the departure point for the ferry to Stromness in the Orkneys. We begin by following the very busy road out of Thurso, but eventually find our way to a clifftop walk with conveniently placed seats where we can look out on Pentland Firth, one of the wildest waterways in the world which today is flat calm, blue and benign.

Pentland Firth, Dunnet Head in the distance to the right

Scrabster Harbour has boats ranging in size from small wooden fishing dories to a big trawler. Looking for a coffee, we find a Tapas bar which has the usual Spanisg tapas offerings like patatas bravas, with a touch of haggis thrown in for local colour (haggis balls with cheese filling). They do know how to make proper coffee, and I enjoy the first decent long black I've had for days, along with bread, olives and aoli, and delicious eggplant fritters with nuts and honey. 

Scrabster Harbour

After a bit more pottering round Scrabster, we set off on the return journey, clifftop almost all the way. Peter and I have an argument about whether land we can see beyond Thurso is Dunnet Head (part of the mainland) or Hoy (the southernmost Orkney isle). We are equally certain (I think it's Dunnet, Peter thinks it's Hoy) and neither can convince the other. We appeal to a man mowing the lawn in front of his house which looks out over the Firth for an expert opinion. I win - you can just see Hoy in the hazy distance if you squint a bit.

We take advantage of the occasional seat on the walk to enjoy the view. We see dark shapes surfacing not far from the shore which we first think are seals, then as they come closer to shore we realise are divers in wetsuits. It's such a glorious day that everyone that greets us in passing comments on it. There are people with dogs on the beaches below the cliffs, and as the afternoon warms to 19 degrees they are sunbaking and one brave bloke goes into the water in swim shorts. Not very far, not quite waist deep before he returns to his family on the beach.

Beach day in Scotland

Strange rock formation

Everyone warned us about midges in Scotland, and when we arrived in Inverness I bought maximum strength insect repellent to take on the canal boat, but it never came out of the suitcase. Now we are enjoying our first really summery day, yes, there are clouds of midges, but no, I haven't thought to bring the repellent. We keep them at bay with constant arm-flapping. They're only bad for the last part of our walk and disappear as soon as we reach Thurso. We stop for a much-needed iced coffee, then head back to the hotel to collect our bags, with plenty of time to then walk to the railway station.

Consternation! Hotel is closed, not re-opening until 4pm. We will still have enough time to get to the station for our 4:32 train, provided the hotelkeepers do return at 4pm as the notice promises. We are still standing about in front of the hotel when a delivery van pulls up - the driver is equally put out to find the hotel closed. After a couple of attempts we finally raise the hotelkeepers on a mobile, and they give us the code for the door. We let ourselves and the delivery man in, collect our bags and then the delivery driver offers us a lift to the station. So it all works out perfectly, we are there in plenty of time and we don't have to drag our bags along the rough pavements of Thurso.

The return train trip is lovely all over again, even nicer in bright sunlight. The ticket collector warns us that we may have a noisy crowd of soccer fans join the train for the last half hour as Aberdeen are playing Ross County at Dingwall, which is two stations from Inverness. I figure that the behaviour of the fans may depend on the result, so I find a website that provides a live score. As we pull into Dingwall, the game is in the equivalent of "time on" (whatever that is in a soccer game) and the score is nil-all. So naturally the crowd is still in the stands and hardly anyone joins our carriage. Instead the worst we have to put up with is a bit of noise and singing in very doubtful taste from some rugby players who boarded a bit earlier.

We realise that we have a wait of over an hour when we get to Inverness before we catch our final train to Inverness Airport, where we are staying in an airport hotel. We use the time to dine in a very nice restaurant just outside Inverness station, then return in good time for this last trip. But then it all goes pear-shaped. First we find that there has been a person found on the tracks (no further details of the circumstances) and nothing will happen until the track is cleared. But after they announce that this has been done and things can return to normal we realise there is a more confronting issue: the train to Inverness Airport goes on to Aberdeen, the next train from Dingwall will arrive just before it leaves, and Aberdeen finally scored a winning goal in the last 60 seconds of the game. The train arrives from Dingwall and dozens of shouting and singing Aberdeen fans pour off and line up for the train we were planning to catch. The noise is deafening, and even though we would only be on the train for one stop, 10 minutes, it's more than we can stand. We retreat from the station and take a cab to the Marriott hotel. Thirty quid is a small price to pay to retain one's hearing and sanity, and we don't have to drag our bags from the Inverness Airport station to the hotel, which is welcome as we've already walked miles today.

We're now safely at the airport, ready to catch our plane to Nantes via Amsterdam tomorrow.