Locks

Canal boats hug the banks

Today is the first day in recent memory that I am not pressured to complete a list of tasks  What an odd feeling.  For so long I've had chores and errands with attached deadlines; I feel a little light-headed at the prospect of a day of complete freedom.  I am not saying that there are not things to do--there is always plenty to be done, but I am not experiencing any urgency to do them. 

Getting ready to motor toward Toulouse

Therefore, I took myself out early this morning to take some photos of the canal.  I love the Canal du Midi.  It was the deciding factor in my original decision to visit Carcassonne in 2013.  The banks are lined with canal boats and peniches.  Most appear to be rentals, operated by tourists who want nothing more than to wander the waterway. Over the weekend, I met a group from Seattle who were doing just that.

Making fast in the lock

Not a bad way to pass the time, I will admit, and I hope to do it myself one day.  

The lock in front of the train station was busy, busy this morning. The canal boats were getting under way for the day, except for those who are spending some time in Carcassonne.  The lock seems small to me, but it gets the job accomplished, using a method that has stood the test of time. 

Come into the lock.  Close the gate behind you.  Let the enclosed space fill or empty to the water in the next level, open the gate in front of you and go on about your business. 

I stood there for probably an hour, totally mesmerized.  

I have lots of questions:  Is there a fee?  How do you hail the lock keeper?  Who has the right of way, those going up or those going down? 

The bigger boys get cozy.

I also made a new friend, Marjorie.  We struck up a conversation on the bridge and we are planning to have coffee on Saturday. She's recently moved to Carcassonne from Toulouse to be nearer her daughter and grandchildren. Marjorie lived in New Orleans and in Bradenton, Florida, and speaks English really well,  She was stunned when I told her I was from the States.  We Americans are rare here, especially those of us who at least attempt to speak French.  It feels good to have made another connection.  

Train station in the background to the right

I spent some time on a bench in the adjacent park, Chenier, reviewing my photos in the camera before heading back to the apartment.  I have one piece of advice to all those old geezers who congregate there and try to hit on women--have a shave before you come out and start prowling around!