On our way down the Somme we moored in the lovely village of Long. There were two boats on the quay already and the lock keeper told us another was arriving soon. It was going to be a tight fit! The fourth boat duly arrived and we guided them in, took their ropes until they were ready to tie up. (Everyone has their own way of dealing with their ropes, so we leave them to it.) There needs to be one rope making sure the boat can't go forwards and another one making sure it can't go backwards. You have to do the best you can with the available bollards and if necssary bang in some 'pins' to tie on to. The lock keeper advised us to leave some slack in our ropes as there was a storm predicted and the water would rise. That night there was, indeed, an impressive thunderstorm. Just as it seemed that the storm was moving away, there was an almighty crack of thunder seemingly right above our boat. Both of us completely left the bed with fright. It was difficult to get back to sleep, we read for a while then there were two bumps on our boat. We got up, dressed and, armed with a torch, braved the elements and the dark to see what the problem was. We discovered the boat behind us was not moored securely and was bumping our boat. There was a good steel edge to the quay but the soil behind it was washed away in some places making it potentially quite dangerous. It took a bit of doing but we found a way to secure the stern of the other boat so that it couldn't bump us again. The next morning the people in the boat said they had heard us talking to each other but, incredibly, hadn't felt any bumps. They thanked us for being their guardian angels!
****
In relation to the story above: there should have been ample room for four boats to fit on the quay but the Frenchman in the boat in front of us refused the lock keepers' request to move his boat closer to the boat in front of his. To say the lock keepers were gobsmacked would be an understatement. This was the Frenchman's reasoning. “I arrived first, the English boat came in front of me but there was a space between us. I suggested they moved their boat closer to mine to make room for any other boats that might come. They refused.” When someone said, perhaps they don't speak French, he got very excited. “When I go to England, I speak English. When the English come here they expect we will speak English. The diatribe continued for some time in that vein which included a lengthy criticism of the way the Dutch spread their boats out on a quay, refuse to move their boats closer, and then miraculously can make room for a newly arrived Dutch boat! He had therefore decided that he wasn't ever going to move his boat for anyone after ha had tied up. This man must have been the model for the undertaker in 'Allo Allo'. The similarities were amazing.
In this part of France, you can't help but be acutely aware of the cost wars have had on soldiers and their families. Pretty much every country in the Commonwealth sent young men to fight in two world wars and so many of their bodies remain in France. It is reasonable to assume not many of them spoke French. I wonder if this particular gentleman would have required soldiers learn French before they started fighting for France. Add to that the economic importance of tourism to France and its people and one would think a more helpful attitude might be a good idea. Nevertheless it has to be remembered that it is not only the French that have rednecks with firmly entrenched ideas!
****
The day we arrived in Long, we had a curry for lunch. C had been planning it in the morning and wishing she could include some pumpkin in it. Pumpkin works so well in a curry. It is, however, another one of those things that we just can't find in a supermarket in France despite (or maybe because of) the fact that the fabulous vegetable gardens we see everywhere are just full of them. Some greater being must have picked up on C's thoughts because that day – having never seen such a thing before - we saw no fewer than eight pumkins floating in the canal! Tantalisingly close but still no use for our lunch...
****
Yesterday, as we were sailing back up the Somme when we rounded a corner and saw what for us was an unusual sight. The French provide a good number of excellent picnic tables and seats in public places, especially along the Somme. On this particular picnic table, which was on the edge of the towpath, a couple were engaged in a very intimate activity. It was a cool morning and only the bare necessities of clothing were removed, both were wearing hoodies and were 'incognito'. Surprisingly the one on top heard the boat motor and looked up. She would have done better to keep her head down! We rounded a corner a few metres further on and saw a couple of cyclists heading the way of the amorous couple. They would have passed within a couple of metres of the table.
****
No comments:
Post a Comment