Legends from our own lunchtimes

Wednesday, August 03, 2016

We gotta go.
Not far from Nancy.

I haven’t heard a Goon Show for almost half a century but I think I remember the famous Eccles once pronouncing “When a man gotta go, a man gotta go”. Our friends in port castigate us for never staying long enough and they are correct of course, we really should allow more time with them, but we gotta go and we gotta go today.

We knew it would take the best part of a day to get around to seeing our friends in port, finalising the washing while we still have water, repairing our little safe so at least we could access our medical supplies, and studiously ignoring the looming problem with either batteries or charger, but we could leave late as we weren’t intending to go far, just up one lock via the supermarket and then to find tranquility by banging in some pegs under a tree at the edge of town so that we could get an early start on the chain of locks tomorrow.   

Meanwhile the Pokémon players swelled in numbers, having thinned in the middle of the night, relentlessly pursuing their imaginary targets, not at all concerned that hallucinations from lack of sleep would impact on their game.    

We are sure that memories of the few hours we were able to spend over lunch with our friend Stéphane before undertaking our annual inspection of work on his boat, now being gently detailed with carved panels, the remnants of ancient bedroom furniture, will be enduring.  We did wonder though as we contemplated our time in Nancy in the still of our evening mooring, what any of the wide eyed players in the park would remember of this day in the future.

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