Legends from our own lunchtimes

Sunday, October 02, 2016

Ashamed of ourselves
Monday 26th September
Hochfelden



We have no tolerance for those who run off without paying their mooring fees which are in the normal course of events nominal sums of money at worst, neither would we contemplate even the smallest discourtesy to a commercial craft on the water

What went wrong then, this this very day?  

We were sort of kind of possibly almost ready to decide whether to sit down to breakfast then walk up to town to discover why no one had collected our money,  or whether we should just get going in a minute or two, when we noticed that the lock behind us had begun to empty.   I wandered over and discovered a fully laden gravel barge about to ascend.  With all the blood my body could spare rushing to my head, the calculation was simple: leave right now in something of a rush and quite possibly get to the next lock ahead of the behemoth, thereby staying ahead all day, or relax, do the right thing, wait an hour or so, catch up with it an hour after that then follow it at some interminably crawlingly slow speed (even for us) until well after the restaurant at Hochfelden had closed for lunch.

Sadly we have to admit that we chose the former course of action.  We cast off with some urgency into the dawning day, managing we think to exit the first lock in such a timely manner that we caused less than minimal delay to the pursuing barge and thereby arriving in Hochfelden just in time for the Cafe du Canal to thrust open its doors.   There we discovered, each of us over a massive plate of something called Mehlknepfle and an even more massive bowl of chips that it's amazing how much guilt can be assuaged with a nine Euro “plate of the day”.

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