We left St Gilles, the first lock on the way to the Midi on Friday, the 6^th of September for Aigues Mortes. We were not to know that our brief planned stay in Aigues Mortes was to turn out to be more of a marathon, brought about by the worst floods in the region for more than 50 years. Our original plans were to move on after exploring the area for about 2-3 days, but as it turned out, we were destined to stay in this remarkable crusader built town - and at a huge nearby set of flood control gates, for two weeks. But that was after it started raining.

The rain started shortly after our arrival in Aigues Mortes and pretty soon it was deluging down. Strong winds accompanied the rain which tended to push the tides back up the rivers, accentuating the flash effect. It also pushed the rain into the boat through small cracks in the superstructure, an occurrence that accompanies only the most extreme weather cases, so we knew that we were in for a pretty serious storm.

Our friend Grace had joined us in Avignon on 2 September, had cruised with us to Aigues Mortes and was booked to depart for Rome on Monday the 9^th. As Monday dawned the rain was established. Later that day and the next we noticed we were becoming cut off from the shore as the waters around the boat rose, flooding the canal-side houses, shops and hotels. The main road to town was quickly inundated and dinghies started to appear in the place of cars. The Pompiers (fire and rescue) closed roads, diverted traffic were possible and built dikes to stop the worst ingress into nearby houses. People in these parts had seen things like this before but apparently not as bad as this episode for some 50 years.

However before the flood really arrived, and as luck would have it, our American friend Kate, also in Aigues Mortes in her barge just across the canal from us, had rented a car to visit a chateau near Nimes, the place Grace was to take the train to Italy from, on the Monday. It seemed like the ideal plan for the girls to accompany her to the chateau and then for her to take Grace to the station so the girls set off for a day of exploration, culminating in Grace’s delivery to the station at Nimes. After driving through driving rain for most of the day they found the chateau and admired its grandeur and adjacent vineyards. It is available for accommodation and functions so Kate negotiated a rate to hire the whole place as the site for one of her annual cooking schools for 2003 and the group headed on to Nimes railway station. It was here they discovered the worst The floods had taken their toll and all rail services were now cut. The girls were lucky to get back to the boat as overnight the waters rose, the whole town was surrounded and all main roads were cut. Television and radio news revealed that 16 people lost their lives when flash flooding overcame them in their houses at night. The area was declared a disaster area and helicopters soon began arriving with supplies, politicians and news crews.

Tuesday saw the floods reach their peak and brought news that no trains were moving and nor were busses leaving Aigues Mortes for any of the exit points such as Marseilles, Avignon or Montpellier. Grace fretted but there was nothing we could do; so we settled in to shop and eat. While motor transport was now out of the question, you could ride a bike down the flooded road or through the deep puddles alongside the canal, into town.

At this stage we lowered the dinghy as transport across the swollen canal to Kate’s boat so that she, cut off from the town completely for a day, could also get some social relief. Being in a canal was a benefit as we were subject to only a moderate rise in depth and, as we were tied up to a walled side, we were in no danger of a lack of security. Our only problem was that Grace had to leave and we had friends from Canada expected to arrive on Thursday.

Wednesday came with the heartening realization that the water levels had dropped overnight. Most of the country was still inundated and indeed the road to town from the supermarket we were moored in the rear of was still flooded to mid calf level. Kate offered us the use of her car if it would help to get Grace out of town. I made some investigations by bicycle and found there was a network of minor country roads that were open to traffic and the main rail lines were now operating. The girls legged it over the muddy bank-side track to the local station to change Grace’s tickets and we set off in the car for Nimes. We were able to get the car out only since the town engineers had moved heavy earth moving equipment in to Kate’s side of the canal to build a dike / roadway re-connecting that area to dry land.

The motorway was barred by gendarmes so in order to get accurate directions we stopped at the roadblock with our map and asked the army police to trace the connection of roads to and from Nimes. The officer obliged cheerfully as heavy traffic flowed around his ‘rond point’ in confusion. We now had less than an hour to go more than 60km to Nimes station for Grace’s train, much of it on one lane roads with narrow corners, one lane bridges and slow moving country tractors. After a nail biting drive we emerged from the sodden countryside into the (almost) dry environs of the major city - Nimes. By luck (and the fact that the girls recognised some of the landmarks from the previous trip), we found our way directly to the station, lucked on some free parking and made it to the correct platform with 15 minutes to spare. We were all relieved when the train arrived on time and Grace found her seat for Rome.

Back to the boat and a day of hurried preparations for the arrival (by air) of Randy and Nancy to Montpellier, just a 24km taxi ride to Aigues Mortes. They arrived on time and settled in. The weather was still overcast with some showers but we put a brave face on it, especially since the flood was now abating quite quickly. We planned a day or two to bring our guests up to speed with the local culture, food and wines and then our departure was planned for a quick cruise to Beziers so that Randy and Nancy could fly back to the UK and then on to Canada.

Back to the really remarkable town ramparts, the towers and the walls of this fabulous medieval town we went. Back to the cafes and shops and back to Anne-Sophie’s oyster bar....well not quite. We had planned for the first night’s aperitifs to be taken at the oyster bar with Kate and our guests but found out early that Randy would not eat anything that ‘still had it’s guts’ so we went to plan B, champagne on board followed by some regional cooking and some great French reds. The next day was spent in roughly the same manner with a change of chef - Randy cooking up a storm with bruschetta followed by pasta and salad, Canadian / Italian style. Maple syrup in the salad dressing, chilli and roasted garlic in the pasta sauce, huge reds from the Bordeaux region. Its hard but someone has to do it !

Saturday dawned, the day of our departure from Aigues Mortes - we had been in town for a week. We cruised off up the canal, making a left turn into the main channel that leads to Beziers from the branch canal that takes you to Aigues Mortes and as we did, so the speed of Van Nelle appreciably increased - we were doing over 10kmh at just over idle revs. The current swiftly propelled us to our first barrier - the huge flood control gates. We noticed with alarm that the gates were down, closing off the canal and showing an unwelcome red light. Moored a hundred metres before the gates were a couple of rental boats and immediately against the huge concrete foundations, a 38 metre commercial barge. As we approached, but quite some distance out, I put Van Nelle into reverse and while we slowed down, we did not stop. Further more, as the effect of the reverse thrust took hold, the stern swung (predictably) to port while the opposite occurred to the angle of the bow. We were still moving forward at 6kmh despite more and more revs. As the channel narrowed near the gates, the flow increased dramatically.

Full power in reverse accentuated the movement of the stern towards the port side banks as we rapidly approached the commercial barge and the flood control gates.

"This is going pear shaped" I called out to Maureen on the bow, "Get a line on the commercial quickly". She looked at me in alarm at the stress in my voice but resolutely took up the bow line and began to calculate angles. All our experience would be needed for this manoeuvre.

In order to straighten the angle of approach to the side of the commercial I had to apply forward power and put the wheel hard over to port as we were now at a 30 degree angle and approaching crabwise. Forward gear predictably increased our speed but it did get the boat straight and running down the side of the 38m peniche. We were counting on our ability to get a bow line on the peniche to stop our 50 tonne headlong rush towards demolishing the flood gates or Van Nelle’s bow. Maureen deliberately placed the bow line got onto the peniche’s mid section bollard as we rushed past and, using both our forward bollards, applied maximum friction. I applied full reverse power, the propellor churning the brown flood waters into a cappuccino froth. The 20 tonne breaking strain bow line held and as it did, pulled the bow into the side of the peniche slowing and then stopping our headlong rush. While this was a relief, the next result was not. With too few experienced deck hands, we were too slow to get a stern line from us to the peniche immediately and our stern was now taken by the swiftly moving current and swung viciously across the channel towards the opposite bank.

The banks of this stretch of canal were visibly degraded and one could see the peaks of the huge stones that had once formed part of the banks, now just below the water level, pointed menacingly at our oncoming stern and exposed propellor.

Caution was tempered by necessity now and the only course of action was to put the wheel put hard a’starboard while the gear and throttle lever was shifted full forward to counter the force of the stream. Slowly the pivot of the hull reversed and with the screaming sound of the straining 20 tonne breaking strain bow line, the boat laboured against the vicious pull of the current to come back against the hull of the commercial. On command, Maureen eased the bow line out to allow Van Nelle freedom of movement forward. A stern line was thrown to the somewhat surprised skipper of the commercial and that made fast to his stern bollard. Randy, our guest, bravely took our end of the line, taking out the slack as we pivoted. Van Nelle slowly slid forward to come to rest flat against the commercial’s side.

I hadn’t had time to feel anxious during this five minutes of frantic action but as we secured with extra bow lines and springs I felt a great deal of relief and went about thanking the crew and the commercial’s skipper for their quick and deliberate work together. This was an object lesson in the power of a current over the opposing power of Van Nelle’s propulsion and the requirement for the helmsman to accurately read the conditions in advance and be able to anticipate the subsequent situation. It is situations like these that can turn into a ‘chain of errors’ that can end in calamity. Fortunately, our experience and presence of mind prevailed.

What would have happened had we not managed to secure the bow, had the prop been damaged on the opposite shore, had we hit the gates ? I’m not sure. Van Nelle has doubtless had many heavy hits through two world wars and nine and half decades of commercial rough and tumble. I’m sure we would have survived, but it would have been pretty embarrassing and probably expensive.

Now we had to contemplate the immediate situation. We were isolated some 4km from Aigues Mortes, in a flooded countryside location, with no chance of turning the boat and returning to the town, and therefore no way of cruising anywhere for the next 4 days ! Ah well - Plan B.

The road to the location was open and the roads from Aigues Mortes to Grau du Roi also. We spent the next few days cycling quite a few kilometres - into town for supplies, into town for recreation and into the nearby (12km distance) Mediterranean port of Grau du Roi for its Festival du Mer.

The area on which Aigues Mortes was built was bought by King Louis 9 of France as he did not have a port on the Mediterranean and he was keen to prosecute his crusades against the infidel around the Mediterranean’s shores. At the time, the ocean was on Aigues’ doorstep. Hundreds of years later, the sea has receded some 7km and the port is now at Grau du Roi (The Kings Port). (The shore line continues to extend seawards year by year, fuelled by the silt carried down the Rhone and other rivers).

A canal joins the two towns and if your boat’s superstructure is sufficiently low (about 2.0m) you can exit France here into the millpond known as the Med. Mind you, it is not always placid, its just that every time I have seen it over the past 30 years, it looks like the Swan River when there’s been no wind for 3 days. Glassy, oily almost, a heat or sea haze hanging over it so you cannot see more than a couple of kilometres to sea and definitely no waves in sight. Sailing boats move very slowly on the hazy horizon, passed rapidly by the fleets of power boats and jet skis that proliferate this holiday and fishing area.

This weekend, a festival was in full swing with water jousting, bull baiting, street music, parties, picnics and balls. We arrived at waterside to watch the young jousters perched improbably on the backs of strange, purpose built boats with long heavy ladder-like extensions on their sterns on which the players stand, clutching their lances and shields as the boats come together. One or both are knocked into the water by the other and another takes his place until the team is vanquished. At this stage (if they are old enough) they head for the nearest bar and get hopelessly drunk on whisky and coke.

We wandered on through the streets, noticing the extra barriers that had been used during the morning to keep the fleeing herd of bulls on the street and away from the shop fronts and tourists, for here as in Pamplona in nearby Spain, they run the bulls through the streets. Each town in this region also has a stadium within which the bulls are fought or taken on in the non blood sport version. Grau du Roi practices the non killing attraction where about 12 young men in white clothing enter the ring with the bull and try to take white rosettes from between his horns. The bull meanwhile takes great delight in trying to gore his adversaries. The young men who practise this sport appear to be fearless (or reckless) and are extremely athletic. They flee the bulls charge by leaping the surrounding wall, ending up hanging from rails about 10 feet (3 metres) off the ground just out of reach of the fast following bull.

We spent most of Sunday in Grau du Roi, well you would after having pedalled 12k to get there, and rode the same distance back to the flood gates with a new set of sights and experiences we would not have had if we had been cruising.

More dinners, more wines, more late night games of liar dice and cards followed as we waited for the VNF to decide when they would open the gates. They arrived several times by small boat, taking measurements and sagely surveying the scene. The most we could get them to admit to was that they would make a decision on Monday - or maybe Tuesday. Tuesday was more likely since most everything closes on Mondays, including the VNF offices.

Tuesday arrived, the day Randy and Nancy had to leave. We had arranged for a taxi to take them to Montpellier where they could get a train to Carcassonne, from which they could fly back to the UK on Ryan Air. As it happened, their departure coincided with the time the VNF (canal bureaucrats) decided to open the flood gates. Our cruise plan now was to head back into Aigues Mortes since our son Sean was to arrive in a couple of days. He was originally to drive our car from St Jean de Losne to Beziers, but since our progress had been somewhat curtailed, a quick phone call re-arranged his plans.

12.00 noon arrived and with it the VNF arrived and after telling us we had to move first, the gates began to open. Not knowing how long it would take for us to get through, turn Van Nelle around and get back, we did not know whether our guests should stay aboard for the quick voyage or wait on-shore for the taxi. They decided for shore and we cast off. In the event, it took us little time to about face and moor again, so we farewelled our friends properly, just as their taxi arrived.

We waved as Randy and Nancy departed, sorrowful that the weather and events had curtailed their cruise - but - that’s life on the canals. We then cast off and headed back to Aigues Mortes. As we entered the old port we saw Kate’s barge tied up at the water point. With a bit of manoeuvring we tied alongside and began topping up our tanks, as we now had some 5 or 6 loads of washing to do and new guests arriving on the morrow.

The next day, early in the afternoon, Sean and his friend Alisha arrived. Welcomed on board with the traditional champagne, we quickly caught up on the news from home and gratefully accepted a gift of Vegemite and the Sunday Times. Later we drove into town to take in some oysters and rosé (why not) then returning to Van Nelle for Fish (stew) Provencale and more wine - again the local rosé.

The local wines are known as Vin de Sables - Wine of the Sands, after the fact that they are produced from vines clinging to loose, sandy soil.. Reds, whites and rosés are produced, many with pictures of rampaging bulls on their labels.

As tourists again we covered old territory, but our new guests were spellbound by the remarkable nature and preservation of this town. We once again wandered the streets of Aigues Mortes and Grau du Roi - unfortunately accompanied by some rain showers - not the best aspect for the placid Mediterranean and a normally bright and colourful fishing village.. We began to worry about being caught again by floods and the flood gates and so decided to depart the next day - early.

Finally, we were out of Aigues Mortes and on our way to Carcassonne, via a swim en-route at Frontignan and a crossing of the epic Etang de Thau. The canal travels very close to the sea shore for a couple of days travel, so it is easy to take side trips to the many gritty, grey sand beaches along the way. The weather improved during our passage of this area so the two younger members took to the bikes and swam at every opportunity.

The actual Canal du Midi begins after the Etang de Thau, which is a huge lake on which many of France’s oysters are grown. The trip across is about 13 km and with the ever present mist you cannot see your destination’s lighthouse until you are more than half way. Travelling on compass bearings is a good safety factor - we use a GPS. Winds spring up quickly here and since the lake is so shallow (2-3m) it can be pretty uncomfortable for a flat bottom boat so it is worth waiting out any unpleasant weather prior to the trip.

Before our planned crossing we stayed the night and a day in Frontignan, the town before the Etang. It has a bridge that only opens for a short time in the morning and at night and even with our roof folded down we would not fit beneath it so we used this as an excuse to offload the bikes and ride off to the nearby swimming beach where we spent half an hour in the waters of the great Mediterranean.

The next morning we were first through the opened bridge and we cruised on, passing through the gateway town of Sete before leaving the canal for the Etang de Thau. Pushing the revs up we achieved a comfortable 13km/h and made the crossing in less than an hour, leaving a number of hire boats well behind. It was interesting seeing our white wake spreading out behind like that of a liner on an ocean now that we were on a huge waterway.

There are a number of fishing villages on the shores of the lake but we chose on this occasion to continue non-stop to make progress towards Carcassonne, a beautifully preserved fortress town dating from the early 1200s. Reaching the other side of the Etang we entered. Now very slowly, into the very narrow channel that is the start of the Canal du Midi. At it’s beginning, its sides are crammed with small sailing boats and canoes as this area is used for water recreation and sail training. 420s, and Optimists are everywhere with flights of Lasers and schools of other, less familiar one and two person sailing boats.

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We arrived soon at Agde. This town is famous for its round lock, an ingenious idea that allowed one lock to be used for boats travelling in three directions. A short branch canal heads off at right angles to the main canal here and so they built the round lock to accommodate both directions. It makes tying up a bit hairy for a boat our size as we are too big and too small for the placement of the bollards that favour full size commercial boats or much smaller hire boats. We got through and took on water at the VNF jetty on the other side before continuing our cruise.

It was here that Sean and Alisha decided to go night clubbing. They set off for a club we had seen during our daytime exploration at about 9.00pm, unfortunately just as it started to drizzle. Arriving in town they found the place after several abortive searches and were confronted by the advertisement for the evening’s fun.

"50 Euros entry - 100% Gang Bang"

They had a drink at a nearby bar and watched as several much older couples disappeared behind the well fortified front doors and decided that perhaps that wasn’t their scene. We all wondered what happened behind that green door ?

On our way the next morning we approached a rather low looking bridge very slowly and realised that we were not going to fit beneath it. We stopped with the boat halfway through the bridge and reversed out to moor on the banks near a huge fun fair, very much closed. Whether it was the end of the season or a failed venture we did not discover. Sean and Alisha made for the nearby beach and on their return we removed the roof sections, folded down the upper walls of the wheelhouse and continued our cruise.

The next couple of days saw us rise early to remove the waterproof canopy we erected at night over the wheelhouse and with the top down, continue through the Canal du Midi. This canal, like the region it travels through, is very beautiful. The plain trees form an unbroken arch over the top of the canal and their roots form the edges of the waterway. They make great moorings. The canal snakes through quiet pastures and tiny villages and at times doubles back on itself as it follows the contour lines of the countryside. It is quite narrow and the turns in places are very sharp, making life for the helms person very interesting and athletic. As we do not have power steering, turning the wheel of Van Nelle can be a muscle wrenching business, especially when any amount of power is applied. As you travel, suction also affects the boat, slewing the stern in towards the bank at the most inopportune times, sometimes frightening the inexperienced, oncoming, rental boat operators.

The wind came up during this period. There are several main wind patterns in the south of France. The most famous is the Mistral which comes from the north down the Rhone valley, is cold and blows for 3-6 or 9 days at 80 - 120 kmh. Where we are the wind from the north west was the Tremontaigne, off the mountains, also cold, also strong. We were glad for the protection the trees provided in most areas but had to rug up with the top of the wheelhouse down.

The south of France is not a place favoured by most travellers to France for Australia - but it should be. Recognising that most people have limited time and want to see the most famous places - Paris, the Louvre, Versailles, Musee d’Orsay, Notre Dame etc - I would counter by saying that a more intimate, inexpensive, rich and delicious area is the area from Marseilles to Bordeaux. The are is rich in history; villages, chateaux, monasteries; food and wine and culture. Hotels are good, plentiful and cheap (2 star = about 40Euros for 2 including shower and WC), hire cars can be had for about $25 per day, trains are good and run to most important regional towns, there are plenty of cheap flights from Paris or London Stanstead, and there is lots to do. The climate during May - September is also good and sometimes very hot.

Our cruise took in the towns of Beziers, Vias, Colombiers, Port la Robine. Homps, Trebes and finally Carcassonne.

Carcassonne is one of my ‘Wonders of the World’. The Cité is a perfectly preserved and inhabited, walled medieval city complete with battlements and a chateaux (castle). Classified as a world monument by UNESCO, it avoided being wrecked during the Revolution by the concerted efforts of local business, political and cultural leaders. It has had lots of money and expertise spent on it since and is a wonderful place to see and explore. Turned over to tourism, the hilltop city has narrow cobbled streets running past tiny shops and restaurants and the major hotel is spread over some 5 buildings that make up parts of the ramparts. We spent several days going back up to the Cité to discover more each time, especially on the guided tours that take you into the buildings and behind the scenes.

All the way along the Canal du Midi you are confronted with oval shaped locks, flights of two and three locks joined one to the next and, just outside Beziers, 7 locks in a flight, and very low bridges, built at the time of the canal’s construction and never raised. While the wait for these locks can be interminable behind inexperienced amateurs, it is these low bridges that makes us reduce our working height - ‘tirant d’air’ - by taking down the wheelhouse roof and folding the side and front / rear panels. As the weather is getting towards winter therefore, we need to get past this are of obstructions quickly and move towards our winter mooring.

This was on my mind as I came up with various schemes to waterproof the boat while being able to see and navigate. The first plan was a couple of cross pieces that attached to the decks in front and behind the wheelhouse and to which were attached the long boat hook as the cross piece in a tent-like affair. That works OK but does not give adequate access to the wheelhouse and below. The latest scheme is a series of grey, 1 inch plastic pipes bowed across the wheelhouse to hold up the waterproof cover. This allows one to see and operate the boat and still have access to the companionway and the deck. However, before construction of these arrangements were completed an item of maintenance was necessary.

Our water pump pressure switch began failing. An occasional tap on it’s side evinced another short run and deconstruction and rebuilding proved that a component had come loose and its seating become damaged. Temporary repairs got us to Beziers where I was sue an enterprising local would be able to locate a supplier of a replacement and get it delivered. No Go. We moved on and on arrival at Carcassonne I immediately set off on my bike to locate some form of mechanism with which to get a reliable source of water. A pump shop was recommended by the local VNF officer. The proprietor showed me that he indeed had two kinds of pressure switch but not the one I wanted. He disappeared into his cubby-hole office and came back with a catalogue from a local pool supply shop. In its pages was exactly the model I sought. With my great thanks expressed I took off by cab to the pool shop and for only 10 Euros had the part I needed. Not only that but they also stocked the water pressure tank I wanted to replace as ours had ruptured its inner membrane and was not working properly. Another 30 Euros and our water system was rejuvenated.

Arrival at Carcassonne allowed us to catch up on washing and cleaning (all those leaves that blew in) and for Sean and Alisha to pack and catch the train for Paris and Phuket before heading back to Perth. Unfortunately Sean’s back went out on the way and he spent the time in Facade laid up with pain killers. Perhaps it was all that time at the wheel on these meandering sections of the Midi.

The next couple of days were spent exploring the rest of the town - it is not just the Cité but also the Bastide, or new area, also a great tourist area, and we caught a Rugby 13 Test Match between France and New Zealand. France won.

We arranged for the delivery of 500 litres of fuel at our canal side mooring which the truck driver had into our tanks in about 5 minutes flat and showed his athleticism by climbing up and down the adjacent 15' wall a couple of times. The price was right too at just under 0.8 euros per litre - about $ 1.50. On a windy Tuesday then, we departed Carcassonne and headed for Castelnaudary - home of the legendary recipe - Cassoulet.

Cassoulet was apparently first created during a siege of the town of Castelnaudary (the castle no longer exists). After a long siege, the besieged villagers pooled what few rations they had remaining which included some pork, some duck, some white broad beans and sausage, and they cooked it up as a stew. Now you might be forgiven for wondering what might be so wonderful about that but it has grown into a huge industry. You can get it at restaurants, you can get it as a take-away from restaurants and charcuteries, you can get it in supermarkets in tins and jars and you can get it almost everywhere else in this town. It is great ‘comfort’ food and very good winter fare - thick and fairly rich and filling. Not exactly gourmet / nouvelle cuisine but this is the south of France - we are very near and heavily influenced by Spain (which owned the area until the middle ages) and it is peasant fare for peasant folk, despite there being a ‘Grand Confrerie de Cassoulet’ with many highly (self) decorated officers of the association.

And so, while transiting one of the most disappointing towns we have seen - Bram - we arrived in Castelnaudary on Wednesday 2 October. This was to be the mooring for Van Nelle and myself for a couple of weeks since Maureen had gone off to join Kate’s crew for a week or so. We had discovered from our regular phone chats with Kate that she was short of a crew member for her impending charter and volunteered our assistance in the form of Maureen. Kate jumped at the offer and Maureen headed off by train to join her near Carcassonne. That left me to start work on the new sports roof for our dash to Toulouse and other little jobs such as this journal and articles. I also decided that since the TV reception was so poor in most places that we would invest in a satellite digital receiver and dish and so bought a ‘free to air model’ and installed it.

Installing such a device is easy, just unwrap it, connect all the cables, point the dish at the sky and presto - blank screen. You can spend hours trying to locate the damned satellite you want to receive programs from but I had experience in such things and knew there is a better way than by compass and luck. Its called a satellite finder and I had used one with great effect in St Jean when Roger had loaned us their set. I decided to go to Toulouse to buy one after the installer locally had called at the boat and took only 5 minutes to check the installation, find the satellite, tune the sets and depart.

The next day I set off by train to Toulouse - the city that is the heart of Aerospatiale, Airbus Industrie and many other major technology giants. Surely this search would be easy. I asked at the first TV / Satellite sales shop and was pointed in the direction of a specialist shop across the canal (which flows right into the centre of town). It was closed. Not just for the day or the holidays - but permanently. Next stop a caravan accessory shop in the suburbs - no they did not have them but they knew who did - an electronics specialty shop across town - Nope they had none either but maybe the Maison du Satellite in the industrial sector. Bingo. Once we got there after a 180- 200km dash on the ring road (Jacques Villeneuve’s brother was obviously my taxi driver) they had three versions and I took the middle one. Back to the centre of town and my Formula One driver took 72 Euros for the pleasure of my company - about $ 130. Smarting a bit I took to the streets, determined to see a bit of this huge city before taking the 30 minute train trip back to Castelnaudary - Castel for short.

I lucked on the food market in the centre of town at lunch time. Imagine the food hall at Myer (or David Jones in Sydney if you’ve had the pleasure) and then multiply it by about 20. This enormous hall hosts more than half a dozen each of - fish shops - butchers - bakers - charcuteries (delis) - pastry shops - chocolatiers, pasta shops, bars, lunch bars, pizza ovens, vegetable shops, spice shops, Asian speciality shops, middle eastern emporiums, dessert bars and other outlets. It takes 30 minutes just to walk around the exterior aisle quickly without stopping. I decided this was the place to eat lunch and to buy dinner. I took another quick trip around to find what I considered the best food bar near a good looking wine bar and did business with both. A mini seafood pizza preceded a sea salmon fouillette, both washed down by a glass or two of local rosé. These were followed by a wedge of Roquefort cheese. Total cost 9 Euros but for the atmosphere alone, worth twice that.

The map shop was raided for maps of the area from Marseilles to Bordeaux and a Tabac (newsagent) for the latest Satellite magazine and it was back to the train and home. On arrival I researched the 80 free TV channels available on the first satellite I tuned to and found three channels with Australian programs ! That channel (Astra 1) also has more than 40 radio channels and the reception is crystal clear. In addition, since it is hooked through our Sony home theatre tuner, we get full surround effects with the movies - eerie !

While in Castelnaudary my days are taken up with trips to the Brico (hardware shop) and construction jobs in the boat, some writing and chats to those people who wander past and see the Aussie flag or are just interested in the boat.

There is a fair bit of traffic still flowing past even at this time of the year. Yachts on there way to and from the sea, canal boats heading home or for their winter moorings further west. We attract some attention and we pay our respects to those who pass. There are even still some people renting the hire boats that are based here in the Grand Bassin. Life flows on pleasantly, especially with the central heating system making the boat cosy while outside the wind blows and the rain spatters the wheelhouse windows. I am hopeful that we will get a stretch of sunny weather soon as we have to get to Toulouse to pick up Nick Cowley, a UK banker from Holland who wants experience with a barge before making his own decision about buying one.

Maureen has advised that she will continue on Kate’s boat to help her get to Toulouse and then return for us to move forward again so I will be ‘batching’ for another week I guess. There are worse places to take some time out.