Given this was my idea, I was apparently the captain. Having obtained a boat licence in NZ over 25 years ago – nevermind the fact, I’m a sailor not a canal boat driver – this was like driving a large bus on ice, steering from the rear, with the back end swinging about like a drunken sailor.
Thankfully, Antony was much better at swinging about (more drunken practice…??), so I could resume my usual post of navigator. After a driving lesson from our guide of all of 15 minutes, we headed off. Large amount of beautiful French wine consumed at end of first day to relieve huge stress load. Much better next couple of days when we moored off early morning to avoid the traffic. The kids got efficient at mooring, casting off and playing cards.
French villages, churches and chateaus just like a picture postcard. We would travel about 2-3 hours, moor up, have lunch, have a sleep and then drive for another hour to find a sleepy village for dinner. Some scary hairpin bends coupled with very, very small bridges in a rather large, long, flat bottomed-boat ended perfectly with finishing parked in front of the bar/restaurant right next to the dock.