So this is fun? Corre to Montureaux-lès-Baulay

For a fleeting moment, or perhaps it was a whole morning, within the confines of the boat, our little heater gave us a deceptive impression of how pleasant things might be outside.

Lulled by this false sense of security, what appeared to be a clearing sky, and a forecast that gave promise of improvement in the afternoon, we dragged ourselves away from our electricity and the stillness of the marina and lurched out onto the Saone for a few hours.

The forecast and the sky as it turned out, had been a trap, as had the nice man from the lock who assured us that the river flooding had receded and was going away all was well with the world.
Out there it was a different story.

Visibility or a total lack thereof, made travelling on the river less than interesting although the still swollen waters did assist with forward progress somewhat.

We had not planned to travel far, and after a few hours we had had enough.   We had a choice of staying at a quiet landing in a little village that we had marked last year as worth investigating, or moving onwards for perhaps another hour to the warmth of a marina with all services just a few kilometres downstream.

Naturally we chose the former, both because it was an hour less we had to endure, and because of it's location.   But in doing so, we were unaware that the rainfall was about to increase to the sort of thing we are accustomed to on the other side of the planet, and that the temperature was about to plummet to levels that we certainly are not.