Day 91 Langres to Culmont
This post is a day late so any reference to today means yesterday and so on and on and on. Also I have noticed that responses to pictures don’t seem to appear on the blog. I can see the response but can’t make it visible, yet! So many apologies to anyone who has added stuff about pictures, particularly if they illuminate my scanty knowledge.
I wrote the following stuff hunched up on a small bunk bed, sitting on an incontinence mattress.
Our canal following habits were to be broken today and we realised that we have been following this particular canal since before Reims. I think that it must have been about 14th June that this canalism began and, as it as to end soon, we made the most of today’s proximity to this old friend.
When we got to the start of the canal side this morning the path was blocked off at a bridge by a fence and a very fierce notice. We had a look around the other side of the bridge and could see that a short slide down the bank, using an overflow pipe as a foothold, would get us back on course. Having negotiated the way down successfully we could see that the local people had ignored the very fierce notice and had used the gap between the fence and the bridge wall as a way through. Fiddle dee dee! We said.
Langres was a very imposing sight on its hill on the skyline as we looked back at it. An interesting part of this project has been seeing our next destinations slowly appearing in the distance and then slowly disappearing behind us to be replaced by the next landmark as we move on.
The canal path continued in much the same manner as it has done over the previous three weeks. As we drew to the 5Km tunnel, where we would leave, we became aware that the path was more and more overgrown, boggy and uncared for.The map suggested that we would be leaving the canal path by climbing up a staircase onto a minor road and then crossing over a bridge. On approaching this staircase it was obvious that our insurance was going to be inadequate for the risk.
The tunnel mouth was beckoning to us by this time. We dropped our rucksacks to go and get a good look at the tunnel mouth and see if there was a better path upwards than the overgrown staircase. We could see a light in the tunnel which was getting bigger and bigger. Suddenly a British narrow boat popped out of the tunnel mouth. Printed on the side a sign said “Tony and Doreen from Weybridge”. Janet hailed them saying “Hello, I’m from Woking!” The bloke replied “I’m sorry to hear that!”. Collapse of stout party.
Our accommodation tonight is at a Gite d’Etape. It is an equestrian centre and there is a summer school where young people can learn how to ride and take care of the ponies. As there are lots of young people about it is a very lively atmosphere. We are the most ancient people here, by at least 40 years I would guess. I sat on a flimsy bench which attached itself to me as I attempted to swing my legs out and over. One person very kindly asked me if I needed assistance. I could imagine people helping the poor old chap out of his chair and then anxiously watching him totter off for some cocoa.
Our dinner was very tasty, although the odd fly did put in an annoying appearance now and again. As our dinner drew to a close the thunder and lightning, which had been threatening our supper, started followed by torrential rain. People started running about to do horsey things becoming very excited by it all.
Our bed linen is scanty and we have bunks. We are not out in the torrential rain, we are well fed and we have a kettle. Bliss!