Encore France: Day 10 - Picquigny to Corbie

From the journal: 

Wow, amazingly I woke up feeling totally rested, quite buoyant, and with absolutely no after-effects of last night. Can’t believe how good I felt. It seemed to really bode well for a great day’s trip back to Corbie, even if the morning was an exceedingly cold one.

However, shortly after breakfast we noticed that the heater wasn’t working and so we had no heat, and no hot water. Brrh!  We phoned Locaboat and they said that Bertrand would meet us at Corbie to investigate the issue, and so we set off once more, wearing a couple of layers of sweaters plus gloves, hats, and scarves pulled up over the lower half of our faces.
 

Lovely riverside homes which we passed
in Amiens

We had a delightful little experience while cruising back through Amiens. As we passed a lovely area of parkland we notice a whole group of very young school children in the park, with their teacher. We both waved. The teacher said something to the children and then they all, in unison, waved and called our "Bonjour monsieur/dame". We called back "Bonjour mes enfants". It was just the loveliest thing and put a big smile on our dials.

Modern - and I think quite lovely - Amiens houses

The current was running quite strongly, and of course we were going up the locks instead of down, which is such a different experience. Sitting (or standing) on the front of the boat and firmly gripping that bowline while the water comes pouring into the lock like a mad cataract let loose requires quite a bit of effort in a lock of any size as the swirling waters want to turn the boat this way and that. Holding on, keeping the boat steady, sure works the shoulder muscles. In one particular lock – a very large one – it took 45 minutes from when we nudged our way through the gates into the lock until it had filled and we were able to sail out. Have to say, though, the Somme lock-keepers, who are mostly young men, were just delightful. They were very professional, very convivial and always an absolute pleasure to deal with.

We arrived in Corbie at quite early in the afternoon and Bertrand and a young lad were waiting there to meet us. And here’s a thing: we tied up right in front of the English barge “River Dog”, last spotted in Cappy when we started out on our journey and home to the kind couple who bought us a baguette that first morning. We saw no sign of them, though, and so assume that they were off around town somewhere. 

Some shops close to the port in Corbie

While Bertrand and his offsider worked on the vessel we went for a wander around Corbie, marvelling at the hotel de ville, which looks like something out of a fairy story. It was market day, and we spent a couple of really happy hours just wandering around slowly, finding so much to exclaim over. Whatever you could possibly think of was there, from fruit and vegetables, to cheeses, olives, meats and sausages of every description, underwear, men’s and women’s clothing, shoes, handbags, kitchen tools. Quite fascinating, and lovely just to be amongst the people who were, like us, ambling from stall to stall to check out the wares.
 

Very moving war memorial outside the Corbie Hotel de Ville

After that we popped into the patisserie for a couple of their superb éclairs and also bought something which is a local speciality, a flamiche. Basically a leek tart, the casing is apparently a sort of brioche pastry, quite scrummy, and the beautiful creamy leek filling just heavenly. Honestly, my taste buds are going just thinking of how good they are. Note to self: get onto google to find a recipe for them. I really  wish we had decided to try them earlier as they are just delicious. 
 

And, yes, this is the town hall, not a fairy tale castle.
Beautiful, I think.

When we arrived back at the boat with our purchases the men had finished work and we were able to just sit back and enjoy the lovely toasty warmth onboard with some great food and, of course, wine.
 

Just to give it some perspective

After the upsets of last night it was great to just feel peaceful and well, and so we simply passed a pleasant evening with a stroll along the riverside and then a little soft music, some chatter, and a fairly early night – that seems to be about normal, actually, on this beautifully restful sort of holiday. 

I hope you’ll be back tomorrow for the last day of this canal trip. Catch you then.

 

Encore France: Day 6 - Cappy to Corbie

From the journal:

 

And so it was that Sunday morning, about 20 minutes before we wanted to depart, I had to phone the Somme Canal authority and say, in my bestest French, “Bonjour madam. Ici bateau Labreilloire, départ Cappy á Corbie”. Thankfully, the answer came back, “D’accord” and so my pulse rate was able to return to normal. The first time, as they say, is the hardest – or so I believed.

 

Before leaving Cappy, the English couple who live on a big old barge called River Dog, out of Hull, which was tied up at the port, came over and said that they were going to the boulangerie and would we like them to bring anything back for us. We said that a baguette would be great, and in due course they returned with a lovely fresh one for us. They refused to accept any payment for it but just said it was a gift. Such kindness seems to attach to the river life, yet there is also a great respect for privacy.

 

Farewell Cappy

After setting off we passed under the lifting bridge at Cappy and so began a day’s slow and easy travel through some stunning scenery with hills and fields covered in trees of amazing autumn colours such as we don’t see in Australia. The colours looked almost unreal, like a painting, and the canal and canal-side lakes were dotted with superbly hued ducks and the snowiest of geese. Yes, it really was like living art.

Stunning scenery

We stopped for lunch at a lovely tie-up spot not all that far from Corbie and waited there for the lock to open – remember, those French lock-keepers strictly observe the lunch break. It was just gorgeous sitting there up on deck, taking in the beautiful scenery, feeding our souls and our tummies at the same time.

 

Fabulous colours.

I did embarrass myself at the first lock, I must confess. We brought with us a selection of Australian souvenirs as gifts for people who were particularly helpful, such as lock-keepers. Well, there we were at the first lock and I was chatting to the lady lock-keeper. Just before she passed us back our ropes so that we could cruise on out of the lock, I reached behind me and grabbed a rather nice pen to give to her as a little gift of appreciation. However, I didn't say "Pour vous", I said "Pour voir". And she, of course, looked at the pen, as I had told her to do, and then gave it back to me. Spot the error: vous = you; voir = see/look. I kept giving the pen back to her; she kept looking at it and returning it to me. Then I realised my error, blushed probably not so becomingly, and gave it back to her for the final time. She laughed and happily put the pen in her pocket and thanked me for the gift.

 

Coming into Corbie.

We arrived in Corbie late afternoon and discovered the mooring area to be a really excellent one with great facilities. After securing the vessel we wandered up into town only to find everything closed, which of course is pretty normal for France of a Sunday. We did, however, discover a patisserie/boulangerie open and so we were able to indulge ourselves with some wonderful cakes.
 

Fantastic tie-up point.

When we got back to the boat we decided to give the bicycles a tryout. Dangerous idea. Now, my man loves cycling and has even been on cycling holidays. I, on the other hand, have a strong belief that the person who invented the bicycle was somebody with absolutely no knowledge of or respect for the laws of gravity. I have never enjoyed cycling, and feel always that I am one wobble away from disaster. Nevertheless, the path along the canal looked safe, and so I climbed onto the two wheeled contraption and set off. Or I should say I tried to set off. The bike was a horror story. I know I wobble, but this wobbled all by itself, and seemingly in various directions all at once. I quickly dismounted and offered the bike to my man. Ah, it wasn’t me: he found the bike quite treacherous himself. So, scrap that idea. Bikes back onto the foredeck, he and me up onto the back deck with coffee and cakes. As they say in The Castle, “How’s the serenity”.

 

And here she is, bateau Labreilloire - isn't she lovely.

See you tomorrow.