Getting to the top

We turn right onto the Canal de Rhin au Marne.  Lots of canals have names like that - it's because they start by making a river navigable by adding weirs and locks.  Then they link them together by building canals that link the river valleys together in order to make long distance routes.  That's the tricky bit as you have to climb up a valley side and find a water supply to keep those boats afloat.

There's often a tunnel at the summit when they ran out of water and supply and that's where we were headed.  Stopping in Void, a nice man from the waterways people popped along to discuss our plans.  It all seems very personalised.  He took away our lovely remote control because that one only works on the Meuse.

The next morning we head up a chain of 12 locks to the summit.  These ones are dead clever.  You break a light beam at the bottom and then all the locks are automatic and waiting for you as you get there.  A nice waterways man popped along half way to check we were OK.  We hadn't seen anyone else and I asked where all the boats were.  "The narrow canals are finished" he said gloomily.  I hope he's wrong because this is all very lovely.

By lunchtime, we're at the top - just over 1000' feet above sea level and the highest altitude we plan this summer.  We could press on but we tie up at the entrance to the impressive Mauvages tunnel.  This is just under 5km long and is going to take an hour on concentrated steering.  Instead we relax on an extremely hot afternoon while the dogs trot up and down picking up ticks (terrible this year).  It's so hot (and remote) that I end up déshabillé.  There used to be an electric tug that pulled convoys of boats through to avoid everyone being asphyxiated by engine fumes.  These days, they let you drive yourself whilst a chap cycles alongside just in case.  Just in case of what?

We're booked at 9am the next morning.  At 7.30, lying in bed, I can hear a car engine across the canal from us.  I peer out the port hole and a chap waves enthusiastically.  When I go out, he tells me another boat is coming from the opposite direction and they'd like us to be ready soon so the cyclist can ride straight back.  This tests my French although being undressed helps . . .  But we actually have half an hour before a large 38m Peniche comes slowly past.  If he can do it, I can do it!

After some careful fender adjustment, we drive carefully in.  It's well lit and that helps but 5km is too far to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  You can just rub along a wooden strake but it isn't even and the tunnel narrows from repairs every few hundred metres.  I opt for a centre line which requires a fixed focus ahead and no looking sideways.  The poodle is cool with all this but the Idiot Retriever rises to the on-board tension.  Meanwhile, the bloke on the bike dawdles miles behind.  He's enjoying the cool of the tunnel.

An hour seems like - an hour.  And then we emerge into the heat of a summer's morning. Immediately all windows steam up, inside and out so it's just as well we have the windscreen down.  We haven't bashed the boat and only one fender line is broken.  Not bad!

No time to linger up high, the lock keeper at the first lock gives us a new remote control.  This one operates locks going down - our first lock down since Namur.  Off we go, heading down 14 locks.

It was crazy hot, France was predicted to have its hottest day ever and Paris schools were closing.  Checking the map, we were in the hot bit!

We'd heard that the canal had a problem with weed and we soon found it.  This wraps itself round the propeller and stops you moving forward.  More importantly, it also removes your 'brakes' as you enter a lock.  We were pleased to find a waterways team with a special 'weed boat' clearing it away.  A daunting task as it grows again pretty fast.  But we deployed beers to thank them for their efforts

The countryside is absolutely lovely.  It's all 'closer in' than the Meuse and the fields and hillsides are beautiful and very rural.  Despite the weed and heat, we feel very fortunate.

By early afternoon, we arrive in Ligny, a small town with a lovely Port de Plaisance that had room for us.  A 'sister' Piper boat was moored across the way.  A quick trip to the Boulangerie and we settled down to relax for a couple of days and do our best to avoid the record heat.