Have you been skiing in the cloud and snow and then all of a sudden the sun comes out? There’s woop-wooping through the trees and shushing through the new snow with the confidence of sun and sight and lift in your heart. And so far us. Two days of cold and drizzle (which, it should be said, we’ve really enjoyed), then, this evening, sun.
The last few canal bends were dappled in burgeoning sunlight till we came to our last lock for the evening. As the lock rose, I wandered into the field and picked some wild flowers; red poppies, yellow buttercups, purple corn flowers, white daisies and some gorgeous, delicate little violet ones. And in a weird role reversal, Di closed the gate on the lock.
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| A cat catches the evening sun in Cry-sur-Armacon |
We tied the barge up by the canal side and, as we still had 3hrs or so light, rode into to town (Cry-sur-Armancon). Across a long, low multi-arched stone bridge ride seven cyclists, Paul’s brother Geoffrey has joined us for a day or so, enter the town from the West across the river.
We can ride a couple of minutes in either direction and reach the outskirts of town, a field of shorn sheep to the South, a small stoned walled cemetery to the East and an iron gate to the ruins of the old chateau to the North. Beyond these fields of peas and wheat. We head off in different parties and it’s fun seeing each other popping past a side street or ducking down an alleyway.
The others have been to the church and Di and I go their last. It’s dark and cool inside and very, very quiet……peaceful. As we stand in the silence soaking it all up, there are foots steps behind us, then the clack, clack, clack of big contactor-switches and the loud hum of high powered lamps warming up (serenity shattered). We turn to see a scarfed & cloaked Bathilda Bagshot’s older sister step slowly towards us with a big ring of keys.
She has come to close the church but proceeds to take us on a little tour of this beautifully restored small town church. The grey forms, now come to light, are brightly coloured statuary of Saint Nicolas, Saint Sebastian and Saint Julien and, unusually, their wives. There are some beautiful paintings and timberwork.
We think then she’s warmly shooshing us out but she points and leads us down to a crypt under the church, unlocking the small wooden door with a big old iron key from her ring, she leads us through to a low ceiling-ed rough stone room. Really it’s a series of rooms with arches between each room, the arches joining four together to form thick peers.
There’s a sarcophacus dating back to 600AD, statuary of St Nicolas, more basic and ancient than those in the church – all an all a fantastic little window into history. We head back to the good ship Saint Aignan, past a cat warming herself in the last rays of sun.
Tomorrow will be our last day heading upstream. We turn sometime after lunch to start our journey home.
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| Di on the ropes |
For the record, we left Lezinne this morning, stopped at Ancy Le Franc for lunch and to pick up Geoffrey. It was grey and misty all day but not raining, or nothing to speak of, and we enjoyed putting along watching the world go by.
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| Di at Cry sur Armacon
You haven’t missed one ….I haven’t done 29 |