Le Grand Marais (rolling on the river)

I had no excuse on Friday morning but to see if I could fix the washing machine using the interlock switch we'd finally managed to pick up from Amiens post office on Thursday.  I put the new switch in and reassembled the machine but as half expected, it still didn’t work.  We’re now stuck between taking it back to the UK the next time we visit and either getting it fixed or replacing it with a new one.  I suppose that before then I could also order a new motherboard/PCB and try that first but need to investigate the costs of doing that.  

Once the machine was back in place, we went to have a closer look at the Carmichaël mill town we'd cruised past the previous afternoon on our way to Ailly-sur-Somme which had made us feel like we were back in the UK.  Many of the mill buildings were still standing but derelict; the mill workers’ houses had fared a bit better.  I’m not sure how many of the 1,700 workers had lived in the houses before the mill closed but there were several streets still inhabited, many of the houses now painted in bright colours.

Are we in a UK mill town? Carmichaël mill workers' homes

There were also a few rows that were uninhabited, and we couldn’t find out if they were due for demolition or renovation.

With another hot day ahead, we decided to move on to a place called Samara where there was a mooring that was purported to be in the shade for most of the day.  It was clear there wasn't going to be any shade if we stayed where we were moored.

Walking past last night's exposed mooring after visiting the ‘mill town’

After lunch we called up for an éclusier and headed for Samara which is a country park designed to bring archaeology and prehistory to life.  We cruised even slower than usual as the river was particularly bendy but to be honest that made the journey even more pleasant. 

As we approached the mooring at Samara, we realised that Samara was just the name of the archaeological park and there wasn’t a town or a village there.  We assumed we were arriving at the park because a palisade had been erected alongside the towpath.

Approaching the mooring at Samara

Our assumption was correct as the palisade also ran away from the river marking out a path to a back entrance to the park.  The write up on the mooring was correct too as the sun was just about to disappear behind tall trees on the opposite bank.

Moored at Samara

We didn’t visit the park itself as we were too late to get entry so went for a walk instead.  Not all exhibits were behind closed doors as we came across a mock-up of a thatched hut as may have been built in an earlier age.

Our walk took us through some woods that were bereft of walnut trees but there were plenty of butterflies around.  We’re beginning to get concerned that we’re going to miss out on the walnut harvest this year as it’s been several days since we saw a walnut tree,  As they seem to have got sparser the further west and closer to the coast we have got then we see no reason to think we’ll see any until we’re heading back.  If we have to wait until we’re in the Oise or the Aisne valleys, then we could be too late.    

The butterflies we saw were mainly speckled woods, red admirals, peacocks and the usual whites as well as the occasional comma, common blue, small heath and brown argus.  We did see one very fresh meadow brown which was unusual as, from my understanding, the species is single brooded. 

At one point we walked below a steep sided chalk escarpment which was quite out of keeping with the flatlands we’ve associated so far along the Somme.  It could well have been a good butterfly habitat but as it was fenced off we couldn’t investigate.

Good butterfly habitat?

A bit further on we walked along the outside of a field of Jersey cows and a few ponies.  They were very inquisitive, especially as we had Buddy and started following us along the other side of the fence.

Inquisitive Jerseys

Fortunately, by the time we reached a stile, that we had to climb in order to cross the field, the cattle had stopped following us.  I say fortunately as Karen isn’t over keen on cows getting close to her.

Sitting outside in the evening we caught up with the latest French news and felt very fortunate to be in such an isolated spot.  Although, from a selfish point of view, we do have to consider potential travel restrictions.  When the virus hit in March, we only had two days’ notice that pleasure boats wouldn’t be allowed to move. Fortunately, that was a couple of days before we were about to start travelling so were able to stay put in Châlons-en-Champagne. 

It’s so difficult to draw comparisons with March as France now performs over a million tests a week but we can’t ignore it.  Over the weekend we will revisit our travelling plans to make sure that we’re never too far from somewhere where we would be happy to be holed up for weeks rather than the usual day or two.

On Friday we cruised 2 ½ miles down one lock.

After a nice lazy start to Saturday we cruised a mile or so down to Picquigny where we thought we’d spend Saturday night.  There wasn’t much sun, but it was lovely and warm with the cloud cover making it feel quite muggy.

Moored at Picquigny

We had a look around the village and then walked up the hill behind it where there was a castle, originally built around 1066.  Even though the walls were in various states of repair there were still four gates intact.  The church was also at the top of the hill and we did wonder how the old and infirm used to make it up the seemingly endless stone steps to reach it. 

The castle and church from the south

Three of the gates

During our walk we did come across two large walnut trees but they were both in the courtyard of a farm so we couldn’t see if there was any fallen fruit.  We did see two more later on the riverbank, but they were inaccessible too but at least they gave us hope for more in the area.  Looking back at our diary entries for last year we realised we were harvesting them in the middle of October; in our minds we’d thought it was September, so that meant we shouldn’t be too concerned about lack of trees just yet.

Back at the boat after our walk we heard the screams and squeals of delight of what sounded like a large party of schoolchildren.  We realised the sounds were coming from the lock in front of us and then three dinghies appeared, each being carried past the lock by eight men and women. From their behaviour they were obviously having a great deal of fun.

First dinghy coming past

Second lot practising standing on the sides right by the lock

As the lock was in a lock cut, there was a weir behind us where the river bypasses the lock and runs through town.  Each dinghy went over the weir in turn to yet more screams and squeals of delight.  Even though I’m not a water person it certainly looked fun.  Whilst watching all the antics we decided that we weren’t particularly enamoured with the mooring in Picquigny and decided to move on so phoned for an éclusier. 

The lock where we first heard the dinghy people turned out to be a staircase lock.  Apparently it was converted to a staircase when the locks were lengthened and deepened at the turn of the 19^th century to cater for the national Freycinet standard.  We couldn’t get our head around why the original lock was converted to a double staircase by adding a second chamber and wasn’t just lengthened and deepened like all the others we’d been through.  The lower chamber had sloping sides so we had to hover in the middle as we went down.

Waiting to go down

Just after emerging from that lock we re-joined the river as it came in from the left.  In these situations we are always wary of potentially strong currents and head the boat into the flow and head crablike until we’re fully back in the river.  The flow at this junction was the strongest we’ve come across and the boat rolled quite dramatically; it would have been a bit of a disaster if we’d left any crockery or glasses on the draining board. 

When we re-joined the river at the next lock the flow was hardly noticeable so it made us wonder if the sluices on the weir above the earlier lock had been temporarily opened a bit more than required in order to create more white water for the dinghies.

We had a fairly long cruise compared with those of the last few days and although there were still lakes and marshes along either side of the river there were also the odd hilly outcrops.

A hilly bit

We stopped for the day a couple of kilometres short of Long at an area imaginatively called Le Grand Marais.  A short pontoon had been provided so boaters could moor up and get access to walks around the 'big marsh'.  The pontoon wasn’t really long enough for us but at least we could get on and off the boat as we let the front overhang one end by two or three metres.

Saturday night mooring with chalk cliffs 

On Saturday we cruised 11 miles down two locks.