La Condition Publique: The highlight of Roubaix

It's been a couple of weeks since we came back from our week in Belgium now and I've been up to my neck in work, so I have failed dismally to keep up my promise of a third post within the week. In fact it's a week since I posted the last one and life has moved on as it does.

The last two weeks have been positively tropical. After freezing our thingies off on the boat with night temperatures of down to five or six degrees and the days only making it to twelve or thirteen degrees, we arrived home on the warmest day of the trip and the week following, it soared to nearly thirty degrees...Murphy was having fun again.

Entrance to La Condition Publique

Anyway, before I lose all track of what we did after the Vulnerable Vandal episode, I thought I must write here about La Condition Publique, a wonderful and very special exhibition space in the heart of Roubaix.

We went there the day after Koos expelled our millenial mobster from the boat. Camille, the charming lady from the canal authorities, told us about it when we said we wanted to explore Roubaix. We'd actually wanted to go to the better known Piscine, the art museum, but it was closed (isn't everything in France?). La Condition Publique, however, was open every day, said Camille, and well worth a visit.

Well, she was right. It was.

La Condition Publique proved to be an enormous old building that used to be a quality control centre for wool and textiles, the industry that made Lille and its environs wealthy in former times. The building provided space for the laboratories and testing facilities that ensured the quality of the product was maintained. It began in the early twentieth century and continued until the seventies when the demise of the textile industry made it redundant.

The interior hallway of the building

In recent years, however, it has been revived for a different purpose. It is now an Arts and sustainable lifestyle centre. It houses exhibitions for artists and a huge hall where different types of living and building are displayed. We wandered round all the rooms in a kind of amazement. It was quite outstanding and the innovation we saw as regards building techniques with straw, wood and other renewable resources was pretty inspiring. I'm afraid I didn't take any photos of these, but it was a fabulous exhibition.

an exhibition in waiting

Art exhibition in the centre

There is also a restaurant, where we had a lovely lunch, and a theatre that puts on regular performances. But what crowned it for us (literally and figuratively) was the campsite on the roof. Erected on a rooftop garden where they also grow vegetables, this permanent camping area is quite delightful. It wasn't quite open for business, probably because it was a bit cold, but I could well imagine it will be very popular with young (and maybe not so young) travellers who want something a bit alternative.

Permanent tents on the campsite

Wall art

Permanent tents

Stacked up sleeping cubicles

What you get. I think it's amazing.

The roof top veggie garden...still in development

We were almost glad the Piscine was closed as we'd probably not have found this place, and it really was quite a highlight in the trip. The following morning, it was time to start the return journey, so after a peaceful night, untroubled by vandals, millenials or even gendarmes, we set off back along the Canal de Roubaix in bright but chilly sunshine. By that evening, we were back in Oudenaarde. On Friday evening we were in Ghent where we spent the night in a marina in order to await the arrival of family who were coming to spend the day with us there.

Sunshine on the Schelde where we took a quick stop

A special and very recognisable passenger boat
unique to Ghent

Art in the dark

Party-goers having rather chilly fun on solar-powered
floating pontoons, which are available for hire

Mooring up for lunch in Ghent

A special visitor

The final morning - warm sunshine at last

We had a lovely time meandering round the waterways of Ghent with my daughters and one of my sons-in-law despite some rather dreary and cold weather. But Ghent is always beautiful and rewarding. We spent a second night in the marina on a buy one, get the second free basis since we are members of the Belgian water sports association and then on Sunday, with glorious sunshine on our backs, we headed back to our mooring in Sas.

In hindsight, it was the coldest we'd ever been on board, but what a fabulous week it was. We didn't do anything we'd planned to do: no old lifts, no new lifts, no Piscine in Roubaix, but we had a marvellous week away on the water.

Have a great week allemaal!  Next time, I'll bring us up to date again.

A mini May meander on the waterways

In my last post, I was all excited that we were going to the boat lifts in Belgium, wasn't I? Well, that proved to be a no go. We set off on Sunday as planned but when we were half way there we learned from a skipper on one of the locks that a stretch we needed to go through would be closed until this week Tuesday, so that put an end to our plans for an uplifting experience (sorry).

As a result, and after dealing with my severe wobbly of disappointment, we turned off the Scheldt (Schelde here) onto one of our favourite stretches of water, the Canal de Roubaix and decided to spend a couple of days of relaxation at a mooring we haven't used before in Roubaix itself, a suburb of Lille. 

The canal starts as the Canal de L'Espierres on the Belgian side of the border and this was the first surprise. We have always loved this eight-kilometre stretch up to the French border because of the glorious, towering poplars that line the waterway. Well for the first few kilometres, we were revelling in seeing them again, but then suddenly, at the second lock, the scenery changed dramatically. The friendly (as always) lock keepers warned us we'd be seeing big changes and I can't honestly say this was a totally unexpected as I knew it was happening, but given we were in the same place only last August, it was still astonishing to see. To cut the story short, all the poplars are being felled and replaced by lime trees, and the first phase of the programme has been completed in just six months.

The first stretch of canal looks the same

Then came the surprise

The new look mooring: open and a little empty
but the trees will grow...

How the mooring at Leers looked last year

In fact, they've done an amazing job. The felling, clearing and replanting is complete along a stretch of about two kilometres. The towpaths have been resurfaced and everything is neat and tidy. But it looks open and empty compared with how it used to be. I suppose it didn't help that the weather was also cold, dreary, grey and misty, but we missed our glorious poplars. And did I just say it was cold? 

It will be many years before the lime trees reach a height that provides the lush shade and magnificent tunnel that their predecessors formed. Apparently, it was very necessary as the poplars had reached the end of their lives and were becoming dangerous. I do understand it, but yes, it was sad to see. Next year, another stretch will be done, and the year after, the final reach to the beginning of the canal. I took plenty of photos as I don't know when we will pass this way again.

All the same, it was good to moor up at Leers Nord again and cycle to the familiar village supermarket to fetch a few supplies. It's a wonderfully peaceful mooring and I am sure we will be back again in the future. It has that feeling of having arrived.

The next day (Tuesday), we travelled on under the care of the French canal authorities. The two cheerful novice lock assistants helped us through the system at something of a snail's pace. We couldn't help remarking at how last year, we'd had the A team and this year, we got the B team. That sounds unfair as they were lovely and very helpful and definitely working on their A status, but it seemed to take forever as they were both learning the ropes and spent a lot of time on the phone taking instructions. Unfortunately, as we drifted around waiting for one of the locks, a youth walking along the towpath with his mates decided it would be fun to throw stones at us, something we've never experienced before. I'm just glad they were quite small — the stones, not the boys.

Mooring in Roubaix

Anyway, eventually, we arrived at the moorings in Roubaix. The lock assistants helped us connect up to the electricity and then left us to it, promising to be back on Thursday when we wanted to make the return journey. Then the charming PR lady, Camille, from the canal administration dropped by to give us yet another folder of information about the canal (we already have two from the previous two years). She was accompanied by one of last year's A Team so we have to assume he's been promoted. It was great to find that he remembered us, another welcome we shall treasure.

After lots of laughter and convivial chat (well, more Koos than me as my French is limited to occasional interjections and an attempt to look comprehending and agréable, as one does), they departed, but with a warning not to leave anything outside that could be stolen. Roubaix is part of the greater Lille urban area and, like Rotterdam, carries the attendant problems (which we are used to) of petty crime – as we were soon to discover.

However, what we also discovered is that today's millenial petty thief has lost his edge and become what we quickly termed a Vulnerable Vandal....but perhaps I'll keep that story for next time. Suffice to say, it was très amusant.

Watch this space allemaal! To make up for a late post this week, I'll do two instead...or maybe even three!

When in France

I mentioned in the last of my posts about our travels that one of the things I love about being in France is the fact that it is so different from home and what we're used to, but there are moments when this can be challenging. It's not only the Wifi (see last post) that presented us with puzzles though. There are many aspects of life in France that we in Holland and Belgium have to get used to. A lot of the time, we found the differences fascinating, fun or amusing, but sometimes it could be a bit frustrating when we just couldn't seem to get things right. Don't get me wrong. I absolutely love France, I love the north and I love the people. They are kind, helpful and easy to have fun with even if you speak limited French, as I do. But here's a taste of what we experienced, both the good and not so good.

Waiting...we did a lot of this in France

Greetings

Luckily, as strangers and foreigners, no one tried to kiss us as I believe that can be a minefield. Is it one? Two? Four? Working that one out can end up in some highly embarrassing nose bumps. And for safety's sake, I address everyone as 'vous' and don't take the risk of 'tu'ing them. Not ever. However, one custom we encountered that was new to me is the shaking-hands-with-everyone-in-the shop, restaurant, and café. The first time this happened, we were in a small bar in Harmes on the Canal de Lens. Koos and I had stopped in for a cup of coffee. There were a couple of customers there when we arrived who greeted us without any apparent demur, and we sat down with our cups of espresso. But then the café started to fill up. And with every new customer that came in, our hands and those of everyone else in the place were shaken briskly with an accompanying 'bonjour'. It took me by surprise at first and it was a moment before I realised the man (for so it was) wasn't trying anything more sinister than a greeting. Well, I wasn't expecting it, you see, so my instincts drew their own conclusions.

One odd thing about it is that it seems it's not done for the greeter to look the greetee in the eye when clasping hands. I noticed that each of the new arrivals approached us, reached out and then suddenly seemed to see a fly on the table, or the wall, or somewhere. It was slightly disconcerting, I must say, as I never saw the fly and only twigged after about the third shake. Apart from that, I found it a charming custom and only hoped the coffee drinkers who were already there when we walked in were not offended that we didn't rush to clasp them in a friendly grasp. When the same thing happened on a later occasion, we were with Koos' son and daughter-in-law, who were also delighted by it. We of course were old hands (sorry) by then.

Closing time

Now we know that lunchtime in France is sacrosanct. From 12:00 to 14:00 everything shuts except the big supermarkets (and even some of them do too). It's time to eat and the French believe in allowing proper time for the digestive juices to gently process what has just been tasted and savoured. Businesses, offices, hardware stores etc, they all close for these two hours and you just have to get used to it. I love it. I think it is such a civilised idea and applaud the French for giving such honour to lunch. I also noticed that lunch is 'the' meal of the day and it quite often happens that restaurants are only open during the lunch time hours.


Other closing times

Right, we all know about the lunchtime thing, but what is not clear is when other shops and businesses open. In fact, you'd be forgiven for thinking some places are never open. The bakery is fine first thing. That's a given and they are nearly always open early in the morning until at least about 10:00, but after that, it can be anyone's guess. They might open in the afternoons for a time as well, but not always, so if you've been counting on breaking your baguette with your evening meal, just be aware you might end up with supermarket fare (good rhyming there, huh?). Other shops, though, seem to open and close at will, and even when they say they are open, they quite often aren't.

Then there's the dreaded Mondays. In some towns, like Courcelles near Lens (for instance), the shops don't open on Mondays at all, but you can never be sure (if you don't have internet that is), where or how this will apply. Example: in Aire sur la Lys, the tobacconists were all closed on Mondays as well as most of the town shops. The out of town shopping mall was open but there was no tobacconist there and in France, you can only buy cigarettes from a tabac. If you live with a smoker (as I do), this can be a weighty matter (or a burning issue?) Actually, he became quite philosophical about it in the end because very few shops are open on Sundays either, and thinking about ciggie supplies three days ahead was too much of a challenge.

A restaurant that was only open at lunchtime - for Jo public
anyway. In the evening, they said they catered only for groups
but we think we might have been a bit scruffy for them too.

As I've mentioned, not all restaurants are open in the evenings. This wasn't usually a problem for us as we tend to cook on board and we're not great eater-outers. On the few occasions we did want to splurge, though, we couldn't find anywhere open. In Pont L'Evêque, for example, of the two restaurants, one was closed for a July holiday announcing proudly it would be open in August (but whether in the evenings or not, we couldn't tell)) and the other, a brasserie and bar, shut at five o'clock. This was in high holiday season, which you could say surprised us...given that the north of France is not doing all that well economically.

Added to that were the locks. On the whole, locks are self-service on the canals we used and are operated by means of a télécommande, or remote control, but there are even places when you cannot use these at lunchtime or after six o'clock. And they're supposed to be automated? I know, I know. It sounds bonkers. But there is a logic to this all the same. Just think; if anything goes wrong with the lock, you need to call someone and yes, you've guessed it - they don't work at lunchtime or after hours, so they simply switch them off. The manually operated locks followed the same pattern, but lunchtime is even longer because it takes the lock assistants about twenty minutes to drive from the lock to wherever it was they're going to eat and vice versa. Thus we had to calculate. Waiting time = lunch hour + 2 x 20 mins. It's France after all (says she with a Gallic shrug).

A manually operated lock on La Lys. We had to wait the 'extra'
long lunch hour for this one.

Supermarkets

To finish this post on an up note (because as I've said, I love France and all things French), I just adore French supermarkets because they are so...well...French! They cater totally to the French way of life and that means home-produced, so don't even think about trying to buy South African wine or anything other than good French made food. It is either not available or tucked into places that you won't see unless you hunt for it. Even the Dutch cheese they probably sell for their Flemish neighbours is often made in France. As for buying such gastronomic unthinkables as peanut butter, forget it. I love the whole focus on what the French eat, drink and consume, and above all, I love the fact you can buy almost anything in one of the big supermarkets, even hardware stuff we needed for the boat.

I don't have a photo of a supermarket, so here's Douai instead
where we really enjoyed the E. Leclerc hypermarché

One of the wonderful aspects of visiting different countries is experiencing the different customs, and I am hugely grateful that living where I do, I can reach so many so easily, but for me, France is the most different of those within reach and I will never tire of going there. It's like a beautiful view; there's always something new to see and enjoy.

Now of course I'm wondering...what is the culture you've most enjoyed experiencing in your own travels?

Have a great week, allemaal.

Adventures in Wifi

On our summer travels, it was very difficult to remain connected to the internet world we are accustomed to when we're at home. Now I don't mind this. Apart from this blog, which I like to keep up, I am perfectly happy to revert to a non-social media, non-browsing lifestyle and just read books for entertainment; or go for walks; or paint the boat; or....you get the idea, anyway. I love that feeling of detachment from the 'real world'.

My dearest and beloved, however, is less sanguine about being off-grid, so to speak. His passion is photography, and next to that is his passion for sharing his photos with others. Yes, even when we are in remote and sleepy parts of the French countryside and access is almost interdit (a very common French instruction), let alone impossible. Well, I shall say no more about that for fear of reprisals (haha), but I do want to tell you about some of the adventures he had in attempting to break the barriers of French internet resistance.

The man with his passion

Technically, it should all have been very simple. When in France, you can buy an abonnement for a limited period to connect with the internet by means of hotspots. In Koos' case, this was with Orange, who claimed to have something like 700,000 hotspots throughout the country. How this works, though, is not quite so easy and I hope I can explain it. There are indeed huge numbers of hotspots, but they are not in comfortable, easy locations like cafés or bars. Oh no.

When a householder organises broadband Internet at home, he/she agrees that, for a reduced monthly fee, passing members of the public can use a small part of his/her bandwidth, thus making his/her home  or premises a hotspot. There are lots of companies offering this throughout Europe, so it is nothing unusual. In the Netherlands, for example, we have KPN Fon and many others. What it means in practice, though, is that anyone with an abonnement such as the one Koos bought needs to be close to the said premises to make use of the hotspot.

Well, I think a lot of people are not fully aware that their homes might be the centre of such 'hot' attention, so to speak. So what happened was this:

Koos bought his abonnement when we were in Douai, but only discovered then how close he had to be to the nearby hotspot to get a connection. In Douai, it wasn't too bad. There was a garden bench on the road opposite the block of flats where the happy, probably unsuspecting, subscriber lived. He would trek up to the bench with his laptop and sit there uploading photos and checking in with his followers. Barring a few odd looks, nobody paid him much attention. After all, what's so odd about a man with a laptop these days? Just an oversized phone, you might say. However, when we moved up the Scarpe away from the urban world, connecting with the world proved more difficult.

Flats in Douai: which one is home to the hostpsot?

At our first stop, Koos walked into the village of Brébieres some distance from the boat, wandered around with his laptop open until he found a hotspot (as anyone would, of course), found a convenient bench (he wasn't always so lucky) and sat down. All of a sudden, life became interesting. A woman had collapsed not far from where he was sitting and was being attended to by anxious friends. She herself was cheerfully chatting on her phone when the ambulance arrived, but seeing Koos on the bench, they pulled up to him first.

'Are you ze one who called for us?' they asked, for all the world as if they were a taxi service.
'No, not me. Her,' said Koos, pointing to the prostrate lady with a smile. She was still talking and laughing on her phone.
'Oh merci monsieur.' And off they went to rescue the real victim. Koos could only imagine they saw his grey hair and beard and just assumed it must have been him, despite his calm demeanour and open laptop. A youngish woman lying flat on the ground? No...it couldn't have been her.

On another occasion, he had to sit on someone's front step to find the magic hotspot. Luckily, the house was closed up, but I cringed with embarrassment on his behalf with this one, although not half as much as I did on a later occasion at Cappy on the Somme. Once again, he was obliged to sit outside someone's house. It was early evening and the blinds were down so he felt safe that the owners were not at home. Unfortunately, though, they arrived back when he was in mid-upload.

Cappy on the Somme

Now Koos has a gift I don't have. I would have felt as guilty as a criminal even though what he was doing was perfectly legal and fully paid for. Koos has no such handicap and proceeded to explain to the bemused householders how the hotspot system worked - in fluent French. My daughter called him a silver tongued charmer the first time she met him, and I am guessing he had to bring the full load of his easy charm to the fore to avoid serious misunderstandings on this occasion. I know I would have failed hopelessly, especially in French!

As you can see, there's a bit of an actor
in my Koos - very useful on such
occasions :)

Apart from these, there were other, even less comfortable hotspots: the dodgy side street in Haubourdin where I was afraid he wouldn't come home with his laptop, if at all and the church square in Marquette-lez-Lille under the eagle eye of the Lord. Most notably, though, he had to get up close and cosy with a lamp post in Leers Noord. Yes. Can you imagine trying to explain that one? 'Yes, officer, I'm getting messages from the aliens. This lamp-post is their earthly antenna.'

So next time you see someone lurking with intent with an open laptop next to a postbox, garden hedge or shop door, don't worry...it's probably Koos. Just ask him what he's doing and experience all that silver he's capable of conjuring up at a moment's notice and enjoy it. He's quite an actor, but totally harmless really :)

NOTE: Due to the problems my readers have had with overcoming the 'I am not a robot' captcha if they are not Google account holders, I have enabled comment moderation for all comments. I'm really really sorry I've had to do this, but at least readers won't have the frustration of jumping through hoops to publish a comment. I will check daily to ensure all comments are published.

The Last of the Magnificent Moorings

I've been sifting through my photos again to find more of our favourite moorings, and I think this is the final selection. We stayed at so many places, and most of them were great, but the ones I've shown you were special for a number of different reasons. Here are the last of my special favourites.

Douai halte nautique in the town

Douai: we've been there three times now and enjoyed each visit. Because the Hennie H is only fifteen metres, we can go right to the halte nautique in the town and from there it's a ten minute walk to the old centre with all its charm and history. The moorings have bollards on the wall, electricity (if you have the VNF key) and water too. We stayed there both going south and returning north. It's a great spot; there are always people to talk to; the city is close; it's peaceful at night and there's a big shopping centre just by the bridge going out of town.

Courcelles

This next spot is Courcelles, which was quite a discovery. It used to be run by the local mairie and had its own capitainerie, but when the mayor changed, interest in the marina dropped away. When we arrived, we were welcomed in, shown where the water, electricity and showers were and then told it was all free, bar the showers (50c a go). I don't know how long this will last, but it's a very nice place to relax and spend a few days. There is an E. Leclerc supermarket fifteen minutes walk from the harbour. Anyone going there would need to ask directions, but on a bike, it's even less than ten minutes, so easy for shopping.

Brébiere on the Scarpe

This photo is at Brebière on the Scarpe. I can't tell you how much I loved it there. There was nothing at all and we had to search for the bollards below the signs, but it was just too gorgeous. The scenery, the sunshine, just everything was lovely, especially the clarity of the water. One of those very special spots. 

The morning we left (for the second time), we decided to clean the mooring sign. It was so grubby. I also painted the bollard white so more people would see it.

Anywhere on the Canal de Saint Quentin will do

I'm cheating again with this one. It's the Hennie H on the Canal de Saint Quentin, and in principle, the whole of this canal is perfect for moorings. Again, there are no services, but if you are self sufficient, you can moor up in any of a large number of spots. We noticed they'd been doing a lot of work on moorings and on the banks with new rubber sidings along the waiting areas by the locks. We wondered why they were working so hard on it, but whatever the reason, it's great to see this canal is not being allowed to deteriorate. It is absolutely my favourite arterial waterway and I just love it. The locks are easy to operate (just as well - there a lot of them) and apart from the long tunnel, the entire 90 kilometre length of it from Cambrai to Chauny is a joy.

Séreaucourt le Grand on the Canal de Saint Quentin

This is a particularly idyllic mooring on the the Canal de Saint Quentin. Séreaucourt le Grand is in a side arm just a bit south of St Quentin itself. There's water, electricity and a shower if you can raise the harbour master. We couldn't until the next day but by then it was too late for us. There's a restaurant, a supermarket and several beautiful ponds next to the Somme river, which is here too. It runs close to the canal and even crosses beneath it a few kilometres from Séreaucourt before it branches off at St Simon. This is one of those places I could have stayed a while. It gave me a wonderfully restful feeling.

Chauny - free mooring, but there is a marina

Our place at Chauny above was not the most beautiful of moorings, but the town of Chauny was the biggest surprise of our trip. I was expecting a run down dreary place, but it was lovely: alive, bustling and colourful. There were flowers on every lamp post and the whole place had a vivid, vibrant feel that made you want to park up and stay there. For those who like more comfort, though, there is a marina with full services, so highly recommended as a stop over.

Pont L'Evêque 

Now here was another surprise. Pont L'Evêque, which is at the point where the Canal Latéral à L'Oise joins the Canal du Nord. The entrance to the harbour is through the bridge you can see in the photo above. It looks as if it is a no entry area, but that is misleading. There are moorings with electricity and water, which you pay for at a machine up the road in front of the post office. Pont L'Evêque is such a nice place and the harbour area is wonderful with pretty quayside houses and a working shipyard to keep the Koos and Vals of this world entertained. We loved it and spent two days there.

The Canal du Nord just outside Péronne

 Last but absolutely not least, was this mooring on the Canal du Nord just north of Péronne a hundred metres or so before the turning into the Canal de la Somme. This was another spot where we just tied up to some bollards on the canal side so we could stop for the night. The bollards were a bit far apart for us; they were designed for commercial barges, but we managed with a rope and anchor as a spring to stop us being pulled out too much by passing commercials. Why was it special then? It was so incredibly peaceful. Once the locks had closed for the night, there was simply nothing to disturb the quiet and as darkness descended, I even heard an owl in the woods. We went for the most wonderful walk and felt we had to whisper so as not to break the silence. Just magical.

So that's it. I've already given you the special mooring on the Canal de Roubaix and as I've said, nearly everywhere we stopped was great. We didn't have one mooring where we were bothered by anyone or unhappy, so it was hard to choose the favourites, but I think I have pinpointed the really special places now.

It's back to teaching for me this week and the weather is cooling down dramatically, so I hope you are all enjoying the early autumn weather. Have a good week allemaal. 

Favourite moorings in northern France

During our recent travels, we've moored up over night at a variety of wonderful places. Some of these will remain firmly fixed in my memory, and often for different reasons. There have been places of incredible beauty, others of great tranquillity, some of unusual convenience. Whatever the case, I thought it would be fun to write a couple of posts about moorings I've particularly enjoyed. Here are a few good ones to start off with:

This first one (above) was actually the last on our trip this year. It's at Oudenaarde and is against the quay where the commercials tie up over night. There is a marina at Oudenaarde, but we prefer it here because we can watch the barge traffic going past. There is electricity, and as far as we know, it's free, although we're not sure if we were just lucky and someone had forgotten to turn it off. It might be intended for the commercials only, so it probably isn't something we should count on. The only downside is if barges speed past, it can set up a lot of rocking. When we were there ten days ago, a huge barge sped through the lifting bridge and then promptly did a handbrake turn (use your imagination for that) so it could go back through the bridge before it closed. I felt seasick for a good fifteen minutes after he'd gone as the rocking just went on and on...and on. Yes well. That aside, it's a lovely place to be and there's an Aldi just over the bridge and round the corner. Just what everyone wants, yes?

This next one is one of last year's photos, but we moored there this year too, and it's at Leers Nord on the Canal de Roubaix. We absolutely love it there. In fact, there seems to be something called the Leers effect as confirmed by the owner of another barge that was also there when we arrived and was still there when we finally dragged ourself away after five days. One of those 'you can check out any time you like' places but you never want to leave. There's definitely free electricity and water, a great café/restaurant and good shops just a kilometre away. There are some other lovely places to moor up on the Canal de Roubaix that have electricity too, but we haven't tried those yet. The whole canal is highly recommended.

I know this next mooring doesn't look all that interesting, but we really liked it. It is on the canal to Brugge/Bruges and it is totally unofficial, but then we tend to be attracted to informal moorings. They seem more adventurous somehow. This one is at Aalter. It's against a loading quay that has rails along the top and a moving crane. I suppose commercials come there to load up with concrete slabs or just the raw materials, but we found a bollard in the grass and a hook right at the end beyond the rails. We weren't in anyone's way and there were steps up to the quayside. We had to walk along the rails to find a place to get out onto the road, but then once round the corner, we found a good friterie. It was a bit on the pricey side for a chip shop, but it was just what we needed at the time.

This last mooring was on the Scarpe at St Laurent de Blangy. I'm not sure I would say it's a favourite all the time as it was a bit busy with all the kids coming to the water sports centre there (see the canoes), but there's free electricity and water and if you want to pay for Wifi, you can get it from the watersport centre's office. That costs €7,50, but it seems to be valid for three months, not that they'd be happy if you stayed that long, but if you really wanted your money's worth, you could always drive back there for some Wifi time. I mean you would, wouldn't you? Anyway, a very nice French man told us that most of the year, the mooring is wonderfully peaceful (remember: he said that, not me ) and as I loved the Scarpe, I thought it was worth adding. It's also a twenty minute walk from Arras or a bus ride if you're clever enough to figure that out. French public transport remains a mystery to me. I think you have to get up very early to spot a bus in these parts.

That's it for this week's favourite moorings then. I'll probably do a few posts of these as they might be useful to other boating friends. Have a good Sunday allemaal, and I'll catch up with you all in the coming days.

The Canal de Roubaix.

Since last Friday evening, we have been on what is officially called the 'Liaison Deûle–Escaut' that consists of the Marque Urbaine, the Canal de Roubaix and the Canal de l'Espierres.  That said, most people simply refer to the whole stretch as the Canal de Roubaix.  The French part of the waterway covers the first two, while the Canal del'Espierres, which is a continuation of the same canal, is in Belgium's Wallonia. The organisation that looks after the French section is ENML, which supervises Lille's metropolitan natural spaces.

Lock at Marcq en Baroeul

I have to say this is really one of my absolute favourite waterways experiences. This is now the second time we have done it and we are loving it just as must as we did last year. From the Deûle end, it starts off on the beautiful canalised river Marque, on which there are just two locks. The first one is VNF controlled as there is a yeast factory used by commercial barges just before the second lock at Marcq-en-Baroeul. It is fascinating to watch these commercial péniches leaving the factory and returning to the river Deûle as they have to reverse all the way. The river is quite narrow, so at forty metres long, there is nowhere for the barges to turn round. However, they reverse out with such consummate ease, you barely notice they aren't going forwards. Since we had to wait for Monday to continue up the ENML locks, we had the opportunity to watch a few of these giants go past.

On Sunday evening, we moved up to the second lock to be ready to continue at 9a.m. We've been having battery trouble for a while now, so it was just as well we decided to make the move as the Hennie H didn't want to start and we had to charge the battery with the generator. Once again, we were thankful for our noisy little machine; it's got us out of trouble more than once on this trip and did so the next day as well. Once we reached the lock, though, the evening sun treated us to a beautiful display of golden light that even made the factory behind us look romantic.

Waiting at lock at the foot of the Canal de Rubaix

 On the following morning, we were joined by a cruiser owned by a couple from New Zealand. We'd seen their boat in Lille, so it was no surprise to meet them here too. The poor souls had been pick-pocketed in Lille, something which seemed to have shocked them deeply; they couldn't imagine that happening in New Zealand. It's not the first time I've heard how safe their country is!

At the lock we were greeted by one of the lock assistants that guide boaters through the whole system. I later found out that his name is Huyghe, an unusual Flemish version of what is probably Hugh in English. In any event, he is a real asset to the ENML. Open, friendly and very helpful, he presented us with a folder of useful information about the canal with maps, brochures and guides for all the places we would pass through. Most of the lock assistants in France only speak French, which is generally fine for us, but Huyghe did his best to speak clear, accurate English too, which must have been a relief for the New Zealanders (who spoke no French), so I complimented him and practised my English on him too... well, I had to, didn't  I? It would have been churlish not to...

Anyhow, we'd decided to stay in Marcq-en-Baroeul for the day, so we arranged with Huyghe to be at the next lock first thing the following morning to be guided up the rest of the system. Then at about 4:30pm, we wound our way to the end of the canalised river Marque section of the waterway. What a magical few kilometres that was. In glorious late afternoon sunshine, we fared gently through banks rich with pleasant homes, sweeping lawns, majestic trees and dense greenery. The moorhens and ducks were out in force too. I sat up in the bows and let the scenery drift silently past me. Walkers on the towpath waved, laughed and gave us a thumbs up. Now I know the Henni H is a charming boat, but I have a feeling the extra smiles had something to do with our garden parasol, which we tend to keep up when faring as long as it's not too windy. I think perhaps it adds a touch of quirky humour to our appearance, don't you?

We moored up below the first lock at the beginning of the Canal de Roubaix using anchors hammered into the bank as there were no bollards. Even so, I found a new use for a boat hook. We needed to make a hole for the anchor to sink into and I used the hook to dig down by screwing it into the ground. People out walking came to look and some were really amazed to see a boat lying there, especially a small liveaboard barge like ours. It seems that not many boats pass this way, or at least not enough for people to be really aware of them.

Leaving the first lock

Duckweed on the canal

 When morning came, we watched in dismay as a huge sausage shaped thunder cloud headed our way spitting forks of lighting from its depths. Within minutes, the rain was bucketing down and the world was an interesting (for that, read alarming) sound and light show as the thunder storm crashed around us. Fortunately, it didn't last more than an hour, so by 9am, we were able to move into the first of the flight of five locks in only light drizzle. By the second lock, the sun was shining again much to my relief.

Huyghe guided us through the flight accompanied by two other lock assistants. The three of them were so kind and friendly, they made the whole day a delight. They helped us with our ropes, checked where we wanted to put them and chatted to us while we moved up the system. The communication was perfect and once we were through the summit level, they advised us on where to stop and tie up while they went off to have lunch. 

The canal itself was everything that speaks to me. I loved the lush tree-lined sections at the beginning interspersed with canal-side houses and old industrial buildings. Then we passed through a more urban setting in Roubaix, which was where we stopped during their lunch hour just beyond two lifting bridges that form part of a roundabout. While there, some children from a nearby travellers' camp came to ask us about the boat. They were genuinely interested, as well as being funny and sweet, but they soon ran off when something else distracted them. Then a local man came by. He'd been wondering what Koos was up to when searching for a signal for his Wifi hotspot contract (more on that later). The two hour French lunch break thus passed very quickly and before we knew it Huyghe and the team were back to see us through the rest of the bridges and locks, which they did with all the friendly and professional efficiency they'd shown before. 

The next few kilometres were mostly through the urban area of Roubaix and it was so rewarding to see how the local people enjoyed seeing the boat. Fathers and kids on bikes followed us along the towpath and at one lock, a woman in muslim dress clapped her hands in delight at the Hennie H and blew us a kiss. Her smile would have melted an iceberg and I blew her a kiss too. It was instant mutual affection.

Beautiful rural scenery on the canal

Approaching Leers Nord

Then suddenly we were out of town and back into the more rural reaches of the canal. The bankside vegetation returned, rich with wild flowers and shrubs. Some fifteen minutes later, we reached the final lifting bridge before the Canal de Roubaix ends at the Belgian border. This was where we called our farewells to our lovely team of ENML lock assistants. They'd been absolute stars and when at the last lock, they asked us to write something about the service in their visitors' book, we had no hesitation in giving them a glowing report. Huyghe smiled as he read what we'd written.

'Thank you,' he said.

'It's a real pleasure,' I replied.

'For us too,' he finished. 'See you soon!'

'Definitely,' we called, and we meant it.

We waved until we couldn't see him anymore and went on with warm hearts to where the towering poplars marked our crossing into Belgium. Within a few minutes we'd reached Leers Nord and tied up to the pontoon where we stopped last year. It had been a wonderful day thanks to Huyghe and his colleagues. They are a credit to the ENML and I only hope more people cruise this lovely cut from the Deûle to the Schelde. We will certainly do it again.

It's now Saturday and we've been here at Leers for three full days. We've done some walking and cycling and enjoyed the relaxation immensely. We've had lovely neighbours in a WOBs* friend, Jude who was here with her husband, and another English couple I'll refer to as Rob and W. Rob is a former delivery skipper who regaled us with some wonderful stories of some of his adventures. They have both left now and we will be leaving tomorrow, so I'll  write about the Belgian experience (which I know will be great too) and our final trip home next week.  Enjoy your weekend allemaal!

*WOBs refers to a Facebook group I belong to called Women on Barges

And here's a photo of our wonderful team: Huyghe on the left and his great colleagues!