Canal de Montech to Montauban and back, 13-19 July

I’d been itching to cruise the Canal de Montech, and it was great! This pretty waterway runs from Montech to the gracious city of Montauban, linking the Canal de Garonne with the Tarn River. It’s just 11km long and manages to squeeze 11 locks into that distance.

 

This side of the bridge is the Canal de Garonne – t’other, the Canal de Montech

Someone – I can’t remember who – had wrinkled their nose when I mentioned the Canal de Montech, and asked: why bother doing it? Meaning,  why bother going through so many locks to cover such a short distance?

Philosophically speaking, that question could be asked about any canal. Even at the best of times, barging is an extremely slow way of getting from A to B. But if you want to hang out on canals you’d better make up your mind to really like locks. (Otherwise, choose another retirement plan.)

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We glided along peacefully for about 4km before arriving at the first lock, Noalhac. There we found a nice VNF (Voies Navigables de France) man who handed over the essential item: un télécommande (remote control) for activating the lock mechanisms at a distance.

After that, the next eight locks followed in rapid succession: Lamothe, Fisset, Brétoille, Mortarieu, La Terrasse, Rabastens, Verlhaguet and Bordebasse. (The tenth and final one, Montauban double-lock, is on the other side of the port and takes you down to the Tarn.)

Lock lobsters

Look at these creatures!  As the lock empties and their perches in the lock-gate mechanism become exposed, they teeter a bit on the edge and then leap heroically into the subsiding water.

A VNF man told us that their French name was écrevisse. So I suppose you could call them écrevisses d’écluses – it has a poetic ring. But I prefer to think of them as lock lobsters.

Montauban, city of bridges

Hardly had we moored when Wendy and I set off on foot to central Montauban. (We were too late for the Saturday market, perhaps partly because our noble Captain had firmly requested that we go via the train station so as to establish exactly where it was.)

Walking from the port to Montauban along the banks of the River Tarn – a much pleasanter way than via the train station
However little movement could be discerned, this was no doubt an epic boules contest
View of central Montauban
Bridge over the Tarn – neither the old nor the new
Taken from the other side of the river
In essence, this attractive sign tells you all about Montauban’s two most important bridges: Le Pont Vieux is built of brick and has been resisting floods for more than seven centuries; Le Pont Neuf dates from 1913 and is made of reinforced concrete
Le Pont Vieux

It is a splendid city – all red brick, arches and steeples. Looking for the Saturday market, which by now had closed – it was around 2pm – we found the Place Nationale. This central square is surrounded on all four sides by cool and elegant arcades – Les Arcades – that are home to dozens of bars and restaurants. At Butterfly, Wendy and I devoured platters of delicious, thick-cut cold ham and salad. We were starving, and it was so good.

In short, Montauban is a delightful city with a laid-back, friendly atmosphere.

But you wouldn’t want to winter there. According Jo Bridges (she and her husband Steve run a bateau école or boat school on their 21-metre barge Somewhere; click here for more), winters in the fairly nearby port of Castelnaudary are around five degrees Centigrade milder than those in the port of Montauban, which she and Steve found miserably cold and damp. And I think she added that Carcassonne winters are another five degrees milder!

(All Montauban lacks, really, is a Zara. Have you heard the devastating news that Zara is pulling out of South Africa? Starbucks and Burger King, too, are leaving – but imho that’s no real loss.)

Montauban, port de plaisance

Sadly, I caused us to get lost on the way back to the port. It wasn’t entirely my fault: a glitch on my iPhone’s map app showed the port office as being miles away from its actual location. (On the other hand, it was I who decided to ignore the road signs in favour of the app.) Anyway, Wendy swallowed her ire and hailed a kind motorist who gave us a lift.

Montauban port de plaisance

Right next to the port, Les Cabanes du Port was an unexpected find. Big, cheerful, outdoorsy and great for people-watching, it comprises a bar and about three different food outlets: pizza and salads, charcuterie and seafood, crepes and ice-creams.

Between us, we easily polished off a few bottles of Corsican rosé along with a mixed charcuterie planche, a salad and a couple of pizzas, while solving the problems of the world. (Perhaps one bottle of rosé too many – though I was pretty sure I’d taken several photos of the place, they seem to have vanished from my devices.)

Montauban on Bastille Day, 14 July

Wendy having returned to Marseilles on the 2pm train, Roy and I walked into town for the National Day festivities. We had a mediocre dinner at a forgettable restaurant off Les Arcades, but no matter – we were here for the fireworks.

These were set off from Le Pont Vieux and from a nearby point in the river, and we watched them from the middle of Le Pont Neuf with most of the townsfolk.

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A Tarn good time

I was delighted when Roy suggested taking Karanja down on to the River Tarn. To do so, you simply ask someone from the capitainerie to see you through the double lock.

The lock waters subside gently on the way down, but they’re impressively frisky on the way back up.

One of the two locks down to the River Tarn from the port of Montauban
Once through the two locks, you’re on the river
It’s about time for a picture of the lovely Roy
Wide and beautiful is the River Tarn at Montauban

About 45 minutes’ cruising gets you to Bressol’s nice long pontoon. We stopped there for lunch behind Brugge-registered Ki and met her friendly owner, Patrick. He said the place was paradise: the water was clean and clear, and he and his family had been swimming three times a day.

Bressol village has two boulangéries and a butcher, and an Intermarché supermarket is located an easily cycleable 6km away.  Patrick had been moored there for a week, and he planned to stay for another.

Brugges-registered Ki, moored at Bressol
You’d better turn around before you reach this weir

Further on, not long before you have to turn so as not to run into a particularly solid-looking weir embankment, is the smaller Corbalieu, but with an equally impressive mooring. What looked like a team of local firefighters (pompiers) were doing some sort of drill with a dummy, and paused in their resuscitation efforts to smile and wave at us.

Friendly pompier-type people on the pontoon at Corbalieu

As previously arranged with the port office, we caught the lock empty immediately after it had brought pleasure-boat Zephyr down on to the river. It comes downevery day; the single cruise (€12 for adults, €8 for under-12s) departs the port at 3pm.

Passenger cruise boat Zephyr

From Montauban back to Montech

Once again, we thoroughly enjoyed the Canal de Montech’s nine friendly locks and the peaceful pounds between them. (A pound is what you call the stretch of water between two locks; in French it’s un bief.)

Happily, we timed it perfectly to have lunch at Chez Gabriel, having tied up at the landing stage immediately after Lock Number 5, Montarieu. (You generally need to book.)

Moored just 50m from Chez Gabriel
Ready for lunch?

We had the €16 formule: deep-fried fish dumplings with curry mayo to start, followed by a choice of salmon or  chicken and ending with an outstanding strawberry panna cotta.

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Somewhat surreal funfair

Back on the Canal de Garonne the same evening, we strolled into Montech and were  amazed to find the normally quaint and charming  centre ville transformed into a funfair.

Oddest of all were the depictions of rudely behaved and nearly naked ladies that adorned the funfair attractions. See below:

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Nevertheless, the Bar Restaurant La Place was doing brisk business from a pavement bar. So we pulled up a couple of chairs, bought a couple of beers and spent some time watching the world go by.

 

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Verne Maree

Born and raised in Durban, South African Verne is a writer and editor. She and Roy met in Durban in 1992, got married four years later, and moved briefly to London in 2000 and then to Singapore a year later. After their 15 or 16 years on that amazing island, Roy retired in May 2016 from a long career in shipping. Now, instead of settling down and waiting to get old in just one place, we've devised a plan that includes exploring the waterways of France on our new boat, Karanja. And as Verne doesn't do winter, we'll spend the rest of the time between Singapore, South Africa, Australia and New Zealand - and whatever other interesting places beckon. Those round-the-world air-tickets look to be incredible value...

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