It was only a few weeks ago we were in France ambling along a few canals.
As you may like to do when the sun is shining in the countryside of France, with its many small towns with canal ways.
As we wandered down past the boats, “an old geezer“, as he liked to describe himself as our conversation progressed, popped his head from out of one of the canal boats.
Speaking in French, he inquired “Puis-Je vous aider, Monsieur?”, To which we replied, “Bonjour, we are just admiring the boats”, then he said in a broad cockney accent, “That’s alright, mate”. After further dialogue, he proudly exclaimed that he had a couple of kiwi friends.
Must be a badge for that achievement somewhere!
Then he let us know, in between laughs, when he saw a kiwi flag another one would be brought out. An Aussie one. With even more glee, he chortled, “They all hated it, I love to stir the buggers”.
This conversation carried on to why he and his wife were still in France and apparently in the wettest region of France. It was due to workers draining the canal. As this required him to move his boat out further, there are far more technical reasons for this which I won’t elaborate on. To cut a long story short, he and his wife have a motorhome parked up beside his boat which they use to head on over to a Portugal for the wintertime. He stated his Spain experience is always a quick one as it was too expensive to loiter around in. With commodities nearly as pricey as France, he informed us.
There ended our conversation, it was time for Miss Dexter and us to head onto Moissac, where there were more “old geezers and their offsiders”, down on the canal.
Mossaic, which is a small town nestled in an epicurean fruit bowl, approximately 20kms from where we were housesitting. Dominated by orchards and Chasselas AOC grape vines. Where cultures mix from what appears to be from many corners of the world.
This small town is also renowned for its Romanesque Abbey, whose cloister and portal are classified as World Heritage Site. It was also the only building that was standing after “the big flood”, in the 1930’s, which destroyed most of the town.
From our admiration of the Abbey, we followed the signs to the canal to see what boats were there and if we were lucky enough to have another opportunity to meet a character who lives on the canal.
All in all, our mid-winter walk around very much a summer town, was enjoyable. Relaxing. Insightful. Here’s to us returning to this area to see it in all it’s glory after the wine has been harvested and a tasting is required to appreciate the sun go down on another productive day.