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Published: August 4th 2010
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Mike fixing bikes to the roof
We departed our berth just after 8.10 that morning to await the opening of the bridge and get through the locks to the mouth of the Seine in time to catch the tide we hoped would carry us to Rouen, some 65 miles upriver. As we waited for the bridge we found amusement in a couple next to the Vieux Bassin (harbour we were in). We watched them scurrying back and forth from the water’s edge to their camera which was rested on a bollard, trying desperately to get a holiday snap of themselves. Apparently this wasn’t all that easy - they completed the ritual at least 5 times whilst we were waiting and for all I know they’re still there.
The lock on the way out was fun. On the way in the water had only shifted around 3 feet, but this time, as it was low tide, we dropped a good 3 metres. I was completely fascinated by the life in the gulley behind the floating bollard we were tied to and watched transfixed as mud coloured crabs of various sizes scuttled around frantically, probably wondering where the water had gone. I dubbed them the ‘Schwarzenegger crabs’ as they
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Mike in Rouen had massive front claws in comparison to the rest of their bodies. It seems that the water in the locks has a similar effect on crabs as steroids have on humans.
We never really succeeded in ‘catching’ the tide as we’d hoped - our aim had been to depart at low tide and have the flooding tide carry us upriver. The problem was that the tide didn’t flood so much as trickle. For the 1st 4 hours we pootled along at 3-4 knots, Mike growing increasingly worried that we wouldn’t get to Rouen in time (you have to travel by light on the Seine as there are so many container and commercial ships moving in and out of it - we saw far more here than in the shipping lanes - and pleasure craft are forbidden to move at night). However, after this initial worry, the tide caught up with us and increased our speed to 10 knots. It was an overcast but lovely trip with plenty to see. The initial stages were pretty grim, with us surrounded by murky water and industrial units, but this soon gave way to forests, French Chateaux, birds, beaches and even a haberdashery for
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Ozzy by the river at the bottom of the fat man's field... a giant, at least that was my logical conclusion at seeing lots of giant spools of thread nestled at the quayside.
We arrived in Rouen in the early evening to an excitable French chap running down and shouting ‘Stop, stop’ as we moored up alongside what we took to be the visitors pontoon. Perhaps we’d been wrong. Apparently not, it seems he just wanted to help us tie up. He turned out to be the Capitaniere of the boatyard and with my limited French and his limited English he explained how the bathrooms and showers work, what the opening hours were and how to unlock the gate when we returned that evening. He also suggested the best times to depart for the next town and informed us that a lot of places are shut on a Monday, which is a bit of a bugger as we’re out of quite a lot of the essentials.
After paying the chap and exchanging some banter (I’m getting pretty impressed with my French at this point) Mike and I got our bikes out a cycled into the centre of Rouen. It’s a big town where Joan of Arc was burnt at the stake in
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a big ole church in Rouen 1431 (what a claim to fame!) and, like a lot of the towns we’ve visited in Normandy, is full to bursting with gorgeous old buildings - the Cathedral de Notre Dame in the centre is truly awesome with a pairs of spires gutting high into the sky and intricate carvings all around it. We had a bite to eat in Paul Brasserie next to the cathedral (great food, grumpy manageress who looked like it might physically hurt her to smile and left us waiting for 25 minutes before sending someone to take a drinks order) and watched the rain fall on the windows. Yes, after all the glorious heat and sunshine we had finally come across the famous Normandy rain! We ate our dinner and drank some wine then cycled back to the boat for an evening with Jimmy Carr on DVD whilst we listened to the rain.
The next day we explored Rouen (in the rain and on our bikes) and chatted to Jade and Mum whilst catching up on the news via Mcdonalds internet (all of them have free wifi provided you buy something - just a tip for those of you thinking of travelling and blogging
as we are!) then set off for the lock at Amfreville in the afternoon. After a beautifiul day on the river in the sunshine sipping rose and trying to teach Mike French with the help of a CD (at this point I must also correct my previous entry - Mike is adamant he did not say 'I was taught German at school' to the French waiter - that little gem was just for me, I apologise most profusely if I have painted him in an ignorant light) and got to the lock around 7pm. It was our first 'non floating bollard' lock and we were lucky to catch a lift alongside a barge who did all the hard work for us. Once through we moored up alongside the river behind an island and mike fitted the handrails and bikes to the roof while I cooked chicken in camenbert with my own version of ratatouille. It was pretty awesome to be fair. We settled to an evening of peace and were quite startled to see an obese Frenchman in y-fronts and an open white shirt staggering along to check out our boat. He had a good look, peered in at us
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Our anchor (I was a bit bored!) as though we were zoo exhibits and grunted a 'bon soir'. It turns out he lived in the big house at the top of the field and probably wanted to check we were doing no harm. Later that night I had a dream that said fat man was trying to suffocate me. I woke up having inhaled part of the mosquito net.
The following morning Mike did some work on the boat (I sanded the wheelhouse window frame for about 20 minutes before getting bored which tickled Mike rather a lot) I made the inside more presentable and discovered our battery operated hoover is useless (I'd have done better with a straw). Later we headed to the next town, a lovely looking place called Les Andelys, home to a 13th century castle built by Richard the Lionheart (although I had a sneaking suspicion he'd gotten someone else to do the work). Unfortunately we couldn't get in here as it was too shallow (also, Mike didn't like the look of the fairground set up by the harbour and was worried for the safety of our valuables with so many pikeys about), We headed further on and Mike spotted a rusty
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Where Joan of Arc got burned at the stake... old barge abandoned in a sleepy backwater. He suggested we berth alongside. I suggested I didn't fancy tetanus. We moved on.
We ended up doing the next set of locks, this time without the help of a barge. It didn't go swimmingly. The lock started filling when all we had on was a bowline which caused the stern to swing about wildly until mike reversed it back and grabbed on. Meanwhile I was holding all the weight of the boat and incoming water on a rope in my hands. Not ideal - it's lucky I have guns of steel, a lesser woman would have undoubtedly gone in the drink. Still, a bottom clenching 20 mins later, and with the aid of boathooks and bravery, we got out of the lock and went down to Vernon for a couple nights. We berthed alongside a Brit called Peter who's been travelling the canals in his barge for 18 months and is lovely. we have also been able to stock up on all the essentials - beer, cider, 3 kinds of wine and some food - at a Lidl round the corner (very cheap and just as full of pikeys as the
English ones are) before heading down to expensive Paris in a few days.
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