Revisiting familiar waters

Our return journey back down the Sambre last week was made with some regret. We'd have loved to go on, but knew we had to return to the Netherlands. Still, our route, which happened to be the quickest way home, was one we hadn't yet done on the Hennie H even though it was through country and waterways we were both very familiar with.
While still on the Sambre, we spent some time exploring a bras mort of the river (dead arm), which was a victim of its canalisation. It is now a nature reserve and made a restful walk during our brief stop. We needed lots of rests, of course...this is such a stressful lifestyle.

A dead arm of the Sambre
Tourist information about the arm
A peaceful rest stop


Our first night of the return journey was at Boussières (of the free 'source' water), where we'd been on the way up. As we were tying up, two friendly faces appeared and we realised with surprise it was Dominique and Rachelle, a lovely couple we'd also first met in Thuin. They'd arrived on a very pretty small Dutch barge and we'd had great fun chatting to them, so it was with genuine warmth and pleasure that we invited them on board for a glass of wine. Their home port was Hautmont, just a few kilometres downstream and they were out for a bike ride along the towpath when they saw us mooring up. Meeting fellow boaters as we do, wherever they come from, is such a pleasure and these two will be remembered with great fondness too. They spent about an hour with us before taking off on their bicycles again. We all parted with smiles and ours lingered for a long time after they left.

Boussières sur Sambre, one of our favourite moorings this trip
The following morning, we set off again but made a quick stop in Hautmont to go to the shops. I needed to stock up on my favourite plonk, the absurdly cheap Aude red wine that only seems to be available at the Carrefour there. At €1.50 a bottle, you can tell how good and exclusive my taste is...

As we'd already spent a night in Erquellines (the last/first town in Belgium depending on your direction) on the way, we decided to make our next stop Jeumont, (the last/first town in France) and only place to stay after we'd returned our télécommande at the final lock. We'd been warned that we shouldn't leave the boat unattended there, but when we arrived, we found it a clean peaceful mooring with free electricity and water. It was also next to a kind of pod tree (my name) which provided wonderful shade from the now revived heat.

Jeumont became memorable for two events that had nothing to do with the mooring. The first was the worrying sight and sounds of parents and police looking for a six year old girl that evening. She'd gone missing and the anxious calls and search lights in the water had us concerned for her safety too. However, since everything went quiet around 11p.m., we hoped it meant they'd found her and the search was over. The other was our meeting the following morning with a young couple who invited us into their home so we could take a photo of the ruined chateau from their bedroom window. Not only this, but they also took us on a walking tour of Jeumont's special attractions: a rescue animal sanctuary and a magnificent lake formed from the Wattisart quarry flooded by the Germans in WW1. Stephanie and Bruno's open warmth and generous hospitality were among the most remarkable highlights of the journey. We were amazed they would welcome two total strangers into their home and then disrupt their own plans by giving us a guided tour of their town.

Jeumont
Chateau ruins at Jeumont from our hosts' bedroom
Animal rescue at its best
The flooded quarry of Wattisart
After Jeumont, we meandered our way back along the now familiar Belgian section of the Sambre, enjoying its beauty again and remarking on how the waterside villages in Belgium are so much more visible than they they are in France. How charming they are too with their mismatched houses and narrow winding lanes criss-crossing the hillsides. We have decided we need to visit Solre-sur-Sambre by car as it is the only one we haven't been to yet. Our last night on this non commercial upper river was at Lobbes. At first sight, it isn't as attractive as some of the other villages, other than the magnificent collegiate church at the top, but when I took a walk up the hill that evening, I found the village around the church. It was too lovely; a haven of peace, quiet streets and pretty cottage homes. The church itself has a long history, which you can read about here, and is apparently, the oldest of its kind in Belgium.

Cobbled streets up to the church


The collegiate church of Saint Ursmer
Evening in Lobbes Steps to cope with the steepest ascent (or descent) from the
upper village
Our final night on the river was back at Marchienne au Pont, where we'd started. Again, although a run down area, we enjoyed the mooring in the evening sunshine after a day of heavy rain and spent a very peaceful night there along with two other pleasure craft: one a small, immaculate Belgian cruiser, whose 'skipperess' came to help us with our ropes when we arrived (always nice) and the other, a large and very luxurious modern Dutch barge. The following morning, I passed the cruiser on my way to the shop and noticed the couple on board were playing Scrabble. I wish I'd thought to get a couple of board games like that too, but when I think we both took guitars to play and barely touched them, I wonder if we would have played board games either...something to consider next year, perhaps. At the shop, I practised my French again and was rewarded with a lovely encouraging compliment by the woman serving me. One of the best aspects of being in France and Wallonia is how supportive the locals are when you try and speak their language. I know my French isn't good, but they really help me to keep struggling on and seem to understand my mangling of their beautiful language.

From Marchienne, we ploughed on and reached Ronquiéres on Tuesday evening. I had expressed a wish to spend the night at the top of the great inclined plane just as we'd done 15 years ago when we first brought our old barge, Ténacité (Volharding in Dutch), back from the shipyard on the lower Sambre. This time, the evening was glorious and I was overwhelmed by the peace, as well as the memories the canal was evoking. The evening light was glorious and a whole team of swallows swooped and played aerobatics for us over the water, a prelude to two days of treading old paths and re-living special recollections.

My old barge, Ténacité 
Approaching Ronquières
Moored on the aqueductWe walked along to the towers where the caissons arrive and watched a boat arriving and then another descending. The whole process takes about 25 minutes and I was excited to know we would be doing the same descent the next day. The last time, it had been wet and cold (an event I describe in my memoir, Walloon Ways), so I was hoping to be able to see more this time. It was fantastic.  Despite being cloudy and cool, we were both able to spend the whole descent on the walk way and take photos and film it as we went, so  I hope I can publish that sometime soon. Being able to watch every metre, hear every squeal of the turning wheels and feel every clonk of the caisson's progress over the rails was in many ways more impressive even than the big lift at Strépy. What a way to descend the nearly 68 metres of this canal. And then there was still Ittre to come.

In the caisson at the top of the Inclined Plane
Almost at the bottom. Our big bath (caisson) has trundled all the way down
that hill!

But....I think I'd better stop here and write about the rest of the journey next time, or this post will be far too long (again). I hope you've enjoyed the ride so far, and I promise the next post will the the last! Have a great week, allemaal!