It’s a 335km drive from Graaff-Reinet to Prince Albert in the Central Karoo, where we were to stay for two nights. Apart from it being famously karaktervol (full of character), the main attraction for us was my old school friend Linda and her husband André, who 14 years ago retired to a smallholding on the edge of Prince Albert.
“Do stop for lunch or tea at Sophie’s Choice in Willowmore,” Linda texted me, so we did. Below is Sophia with Roy, in the gorgeously eclectic antiques store and restaurant she’s been running for 13 years.
For a Durbanite like me, the “Cape trip” is probably part of your travel history – something you feel called to do every few years or so. Mostly, you drive the roughly 1,800km each way, because – magical as Cape Town is – it’s as much about the journey as it is about the destination.
Durban to Cape Town via the Free State; we’ll be driving home via the coastal Garden Route, Port Elizabeth, East London and the former Transkei
After almost four months on our Dutch replica Piper barge “Karanja”, cruising the Canal de Garonne and enjoying our home port of Moissac, it’s almost time to fly south for the winter. Before we go, here’s a tribute to an interesting local restaurant with a unique heritage – Le Kiosque de l’Uvarium.
It’s located literally three minutes’ walk from our mooring, on the esplanade that leads along the bank of the Tarn river to the Hôtel Le Moulin.
Promenade along the river Tarn, leading to Hôtel Le Moulin
It’s been a hot summer, and I’ve been dying to swim. Officially, you’re not allowed to swim in the Tarn River. But there’s a way around this: you can wild-moor your boat in a spot where no-one is looking.
That’s what Roy and I did for a couple of days – we on Karanja and our Dutch friends Jack and Sanne on their beautiful, 124-year-old Dutch barge, Artemis.
(I’d like to say they invited us to join them, but that wouldn’t be entirely accurate. Rather, they didn’t say no when we invited ourselves.)
This was the third edition of what is locally known as the fête des plaisanciers, organised by popular couple Tony (Aussie) and Rita (Swiss) from Kanumbra barge. They were about to leave Moissac after nine years here, and what a send-off it turned out to be!
Day One
The three-day programme was launched at 3pm on the Friday with registration of the boaters who wanted to take part in the flotillas planned for the Saturday and the Sunday, followed by live music.
Duly registered and name-badged, Roy seems utterly carried away by the music, along with Louisa and David (“Tesserae”), plus Terrie and Phil (“Mr Pip”)
It was time to fetch the Renault Twingo from Fontet and bring it back to the boat, so Roy and I walked to Moissac station and caught the 13.26 train to Agen.
With two hours to kill before our connection to La Réole (the station nearest to Fontet), I thought we’d end up lunching on a tired baguette – but no! We lucked out with La Grande Brasserie, located right next to our arrival platform.
He spots it, right on the platform – La Grande Brasserie!
Only later did we find out that it’s pretty famous, and that UK chef Rick Stein recommended it in one of his travel series.
Review: La Grande Brasserie, Agen train station
The décor is perfect. In the chequerboard-tiled bar, oversized clocks show the time in Londres, Agen and Moscou. High ceilings, comfortable banquette seating and wooden strip-flooring set the scene for Art Deco mouldings on walls hung with travel posters from the golden age of train travel.
La Grande Brasserie, view to the back
With miles to go before we slept, we decided on a beer and a single course. Roy’s salade niçoise (around €14) came with generous chunks of seared fresh tuna and looked great. I had the bouillabaisse-like marmite de la mer (€18.50), a thick, bisque-y broth crammed with delectable little mussels, more salmon and tuna than I could manage, and small saffron-yellow potatoes, topped with a giant prawn.
Salade niçoise
Marmite de la mer
This is a destination restaurant – how lucky we were to stumble upon it en route! Fabulously quick and friendly service added to the experience, too.
Once at La Réole, Roy installed himself at a café to rest his knee while I set off on foot over the bridge across the Garonne River to the Fontet halte nautique car park, about a 3km walk. It was a relief to find the Twingo intact and raring to go after having been abandoned for two weeks.
Un été caniculaire; Le Farniente Fourquais and the mineral man of La Fallotte; of fish that wriggle in Buzet; sweltering in Sérignac, broiling in Boé and grilling in Golfech
This has been un été caniculaire, as the French put it – not a summer heatwave, but a full-on heatwave summer.
Even the sunflowers are drooping in the heat
Fortunately, we were in no hurry. With no agenda but to be back in Moissac in time for the 10-12 August boat festival, or fête des plaisanciers, we could take it easy.
On our last day at Fontet base de loisirs (or leisure base), I was lolling around after a swim in the lake when Tui arrived, bearing friendly Kiwis Lindsay Sweeney and Vicki Ritchie. Drinks aboard Karanja were clearly in order.
Our Karanja safely moored in Fontet on the Canal de Garonne, it was time to see something of the west coast. The resort town of Arcachon is one of the closest Atlantic coastal spots from here, and a favourite holiday spot for the French.
According to podcaster Hugo on innerfrench.com (my latest addiction), French holidaymakers can be divided into two groups: those who flock to the Med (the Côte D’Azur, Sainte-Tropez), and those – many of them Parisian – who prefer the Atlantic coast.
The drive from Frontet can take as little as 90 minutes by motorway, but Roy instructed the Garmin to avoid all such conveniences and to take the back-roads instead.
Finally, it is done: I have killed my Lumix compact camera, the one that’s almost always with me and with which I have taken the majority of the photos on this blog. Here’s the good news – it’s time to go shopping for a new one. In Bordeaux!
Old dog, new tricks – me driving on the wrong side of the road to Pont-des-Sables; mediocre lunch in medieval Marmande; frazzled fuses, fan-belt frustration and the fabulous Fabré Pierre at Fontet
Villeton to Pont-des-Sables
A big day for me! We’d spent a full week in Villeton, and now we were were heading for Pont-des-Sables on Karanja, my plan being to cycle the 16km back along the tow-path to collect the Twingo and drive it back to Roy and the boat.
Why is it such a big deal? Well, I’d never ever driven a car on the right side of the road, and in France they kind of expect you to do that.
Voila! – I’m finally motivated to learn to fold down the Brompton bike – a necessary feat if I’m going to be stowing it in the boot
