Summiting the Nivernais

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We spent the next few days getting through as many locks as we could in order to reach Sardy Les Epiry and the start of the 16 lock staircase to summit the Nivernais. Mike finally succeeded in catching a fish – a bream from what we could gather – and we ate it with some bread. Tasty but very boney, we actually spent more time spitting bones than eating! I gunned 6 more lift bridges, each one feeling easier, my fitness was definitely improving from all this jumping on and off, lassooing bollards and turning winches!
We also met a lovely young eclusier who operated 3 locks and told us he had been really busy all day. He gratefully accepted our offer of a beer but proudly refused to let us open the gates while he took a breather, telling us it was his job and he would not be doing it properly if he let us open up. We chatted about the canal while we waited for the lock to fill and I commented that the Nivernais was beautiful. His reply was fabulously deadpan: with a big gallic shrug he said 'So wikipedia says'. When I smiled and asked what he thought he said he had not seen all of it but the parts he had seen were very beautiful.
Anyway, I digress. We arrived at Sardy in a grey drizzle, just as the locks shut for the day and took our place in line to begin our summit the next day. We walked up to investigate the staircase and were a little disappointed to see the locks were spread out and not a literal staircase as I'd pictured. Still, 16 locks over 8km still sounded very exciting.
The sun was out and there was a chill in the air when we woke the following morning. The locks opened at 8.30 so we left our mooring at 8.25 and pulled into the first lock, which was open and already contained a big steel British barge. We tied on and chatted with the barge owners who were lovely and also lived aboard. A tiny young woman appeared at around 8.45 by which point two hire boats were also waiting to pass the first lock. I gave a hand with the gates and winches and she told me there were several boats waiting to come down and that she was in charge of 6 locks so would be having to go between them all morning. She tried to fit us in the next lock, but it was shorter than the first so only the barge could pass. She then hopped on her moped and zoomed up to the next lock to let the boat down. We tied on to the bank and had a cup of tea while we waited. Today was going to be a long day! I noticed the guys from the hire boat by the first lock walking around looking ofr information so decided to try my limited French and explain that the eclusiere was letting other boats through first. They seemed to understand.
We spent the rest of the day passing through locks with the hire boat. It turned out the family on board were from Switzerland and holidaying here. The girl on board was the one hopping on and off to do rope work all the time and she and I chatted and took in turns to help the eclusieres as we passed the day in sporadic sunshine. She was lovely and told me she was on board with her boyfriend, their baby and her parents. They all seemed really friendly and were mucking in with the rope work. It was nice to have company as we went through the locks and to help one another out with the ropes. They also clearly understood how to handle the boat, unlike some other hire boaters we'd seen driving into walls, getting ropes caught around their legs or getting stuck on banks!
Seven hours after we'd left our mooring at Sardy, we had finished the 16 locks. Some locks looked as though 60's hippies had re-vamped them …. mulitcolured barge platforms bedecked with coloured chairs, fabric lanterns, little coffe tables and fairy light were tucked in at the banks of one, which also bore a sign declaring itself a tea shop. Another had an old VW beetle decorated psychedlically outside, the bonnet open to revel wood carvings where an engine once might have lived. Another kept bee hives and sold honey, there seemed to be a real sense that these places were taking advantage of passing trade from boaters, and why not?
I'd had fun walking in the sunshine, helping with the gates and winches and handling the ropes and had even managed to open a huge old fashioned lock with heavy solid oak beams at the top – I was feeling pretty invincible, I won't lie to you! My invincibility was scared away on lock 14 though. I had hopped up onto the bank and was walking around to the bollards. To get to them I had to pass some barnyard birds and cross the tops of the closed lock gates at the far end. No problem.
I made my way up, cheerfully waving to Mike over my shoulder and nearly jumoed straight into the air and the lock whena big goos estarted going nuts! It let out a horrendous loud ugly honk, flapped its wings and styretched to its full height. Images of the swan who pecked my fingers when I was feeding it oin the Exe as a kid sprung to mind. Come on carly, I said to myself, you're a full sized person, he's a goose, just a goose. I took a deep breath and carried on walking toward the birds. The goose got even louder and rushed at me, flapping its wings and pecking at my feet, trousers and ass. Bugger pride, I thought, I'm out of here. And I ran past it and jumped on to the lock gates, scurrying across and out of its way whilst the eclusier arrived back with a bemused look on his face. The goose kept honking and giving it the big one until the eclusier walked over said something in French and kicked at it. Clearly he knew how to handle the goose. I can see why people use them as guard animals. It made enough noise to wake the dead and scared the bejeezus out of me!
When we reached the top of the locks we had a little wait until we could go through the 3 tunnels and narrow one way section of canal that would take us to the summit at Baye. We passed the time drinking a couple glasses of wine (naturally) and having a game of cards. Before the long the green light showed and off we went.
The final section of canal was made up of the most beautiful scenery I had witnessed so far. Willow, ash and others I couldn't identify bent towards each other over the canal forming a light dappled corridor through which Ozzy 2 made her route. Birds, bees and butterflies flitted among the flowers and shrubs that sprang up and the banks of the canal sloped up and out towards the sun. Every now and then we passed under an ivy and moss covered tall stone bridge. The facade of each of the three tunnels was stepped and covered in moss, ivy, plants and flowers. You could be forgiven for thinking you'd been transported to an Incan ruin. There was an air of stillness and peace here that I'd not found anywhere else. The only sounds were those of the water gliding by and the birds in the trees. The tunnels were dark and silent and I was fascinated to watch as the speck of light at the end of each one grew to a perfect semi-circular glimpse of the woodland outside, mirrored perfectly in the still canal.
The sun was just starting to go down as we exited the final tunnel to Baye, the small town at the summit of the Nivernais. Baye was equally as stuning as the canal had been. An old stone quay ran paralell to the canal, which opened up to a marina just to side of the final tunnel. Alongside the quay stood a vast freshwater lake, surrounded by trees and dotted with little islands.
We were unable to get into the marina so moored instead alongside the stone quay, the sun shining on us as we popped our final bottle of Bailly cremant to toast a successful summit. A few hours later, full of BBQ'd chciken, we cycled the perimeter of the lake and stood to watch as a stunning sunset spread across the sky, reflected beautifully in the water below. Wikipedia was right – the Nivernais was the most beautiful canal we'd seen France.

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