Legends from our own lunchtimes

Monday, June 12, 2017

I beg your pardon. Sunday June 4
Saverne to Lutzelbourg

The forecast did warn us that winds were coming.  It hinted that they would get stronger as the day wore on, but on a bright note it also suggested that the rain which sloshed over us in little squalls could well diminish later in the morning.

To make matters worse for those of us thinking of moving on today, there were an awful lot of boats with crews sharing the same thought.  If there is anything less enjoyable than boating on confined waterways in high winds it is boating on confined waterways in high winds in the rain.  If while engaged in one those pastimes one then joins long queues of hire boats, some of them fuelled on beer and inexperience and hell bent on destroying themselves and anything in their path, the level of potential enjoyment is diminished to: “why go at all?”.

So even though we’d never promised Ray and Helen a rose garden, we delivered it nonetheless, spending a far more enjoyable few hours this morning among the eight thousand rose plants in Saverne’s collection than we would have had we moved on.    

Eventually with all the boats among us which were going to go, gone, we sensed an opportunity.   After a brief instruction on how to operate the boat with an emphasis on what to do when the wind  takes control, we escorted the other pair up their first lock, then several more and cruised quietly and uneventfully in company all the way to Lutzelbourg with the smell of roses lingering in our nostrils.

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