Scoot Thursday 1st August - Kortrijk

They’ve been littering the footpaths of Brisbane for a while, surrounded by an aura of controversy or perhaps debate as to whether they are or aren’t safe or even appropriate means of transport, and just last month, sadly, the first death by electric scooter (although technically it was by double decker bus) occurred in London.  

We noticed the first proliferation of the domesticated versions in Amiens, with numbers of middle-aged suit wearing professionals seeming to prefer them to  cycling as a quick and convenient means of getting around.  In some of the urban areas of France with miles of smooth pavement and bustling cycle ways, they seem to make sense, or at least more sense than those electric uni-wheels that impossibly whisk their riders silently by in an incomrehensible blur.  

In Kortrijk the rental ones are like a plague, admittedly in its dormant stage.  Just how the company which owns them makes a living is a mystery as they sit in large numbers in every square and on every corner forming a sort of trip hazard for the elderly or the careless  (insert roll-eyes emoticon),  while potential customers try to figure out how to get their tiny wheels across the ancient cobbles. 

Early again Wednesday 31st July - Lille to Kortrijk

We arrived in plenty of time to don the raincoats for the first time in a few months, and thus clad to amble through the centre of town, even lingering over a warm lunch in a heated cafe while wondering why it is that climate change seems to be a daily or even hourly phenomenon.  

We like Lille and we thought yesterday we may stay for a while, but by the time we woke unusually early this morning we had both apparently formed the view in our sleep that we’d like to be wandering the streets of Kortrijk instead.

Perhaps it is a result of all the not-moving we’ve been doing all summer, that we’ve suddenly been overwhelmed by a desire to keep going.  We’ll either work that out of our systems over the next few days, or we’ll be writing our next episode from Gent!

Next Time Tuesday 30th July - Don to Lille

The first time we travelled on the stretch of water between Douai and Kortrijk we were quite taken by the beauty that was hidden in plain sight, disguised as heavy industry.  We have not been disappointed in subsequent visits either, except that this time, our ill advised decision to move once again into the face of a building storm front, left us with no time to properly poke around.

Admittedly some don’t seem to experience the same thrill we do as they wander past the giant recycling yards, the steaming conveyors and the crumbling factories. 

Others (like our friend Koos) would admonish us for not allowing ourselves weeks to properly explore every rusted bolt along the way, instead, racing past with one eye on the "road", camera in one hand, wheel in the other hoping to dash off a shot or two to which will leave us wondering what we missed.  There’s always a next time.

Dazzled by the clear blue sky. Tuesday 29th July - Douai to Don

According to the internet there were strong winds building off the coast and they’d be with us by the end of the day, making conditions rather too difficult to contemplate navigating a boat in small spaces like the old canal at Lille for instance, where we had entertained thoughts of being tonight.

Years of experience tell us that leaving in the face of a forecast like that is one of the few ways one can get oneself into trouble in a boat, including in a narrow canal with limited places to tie should something go wrong.  At the same time we looked up at the sky for signs of impending doom and a little voice in the back of our heads shouted “She’ll be right”, so we took off anyway with our toes and fingers crossed. 

Thankfully the breeze had only built to a still manageable dull roar by the time we passed through the second and last lock of the day but it did seem to be increasing by the minute.  Unwilling to push our luck and with surprisingly little shouting, we called it quits, snugging ourselves safely in the little inlet in Don before the worst of it arrived.  

Back in Town Monday 28th July - Douai

It’s probably a reaction to all the green we’ve been immersed in during the last couple of months, but now we’re back in a town and even the surface of the canal seems to be paved.

It’s curiously pleasant actually, to be appreciating the sounds, smells, textures and dare we say it, movement of a proper urban environment although we have become used to the holidaying families walking and cycling along the river, happily waving to us and sharing their joy in the simple pleasure of being a part of the great outdoors.

Here the mood is quite different as they rush past with determined expressions, their minds in other places, and we feel quite detached.  Perhaps we should pick up the pace a bit as well.

Running down the Freeway Saturday 27th July - Ryalcourt to Douai

Following yesterday’s note, the first ships we saw today were “Freedom” pushing “Freeway” carrying a total of six hundred tons of payload.  Sadly, because everyone wants to get in front of the big load, no matter how illogical that might be, their eighty metres total length fitted into a ninety metre long lock without leaving enough room for us even if we’d taken a big run at it. 

Having to wait at that first lock of the day sealed our fate,  We would be following the ship all day, catching it at each lock and because traffic was quite heavy, we’d have another short wait while the upstream bound ship completed it’s locking process, before starting it all again.

It doesn’t seem much, that twenty minute or so wait, but particularly when it’s windy and the raining, by the tenth lock of the day it takes all of one’s resolve not to find it a teensy bit tedious, which is quite possibly just one extra reason why after that particular lock, we were quite looking forward to stopping for a day or two.  

Torquoise under Violet Skies. Friday 26th July - Bray-sur-Somme to Ryalcourt

Heading down the highway in too much wind and too little temperature for comfort (I know, I know, we can never be happy) with the sky looking as though it was filled with actual purple rain, the approach of the curiously named “Turquoise” got us all a-thinking about the nature of boat names and particularly those brandished by commercial ships plying the inland waters (which “Turquoise” is not).

You never see a proper ship called “Sea Wind” or “Summer Breeze”.  Their owners have bigger dreams.  

Their ships are named for heroes, for aspirations and often just for fun, curiously in languages other than those spoken by the crew.  Today alone we have crossed paths with two thousand tons of “Stewball” as well as:“Moonraker”, “Athena”, ”Helena”, ”Posiedon”, “Mexico”, ”Mexicali”, “Rottweiler”, ”Pitbull”, ”Largo”,” Touriste”,” Tourisme”,” California”,” Arkansas”,” Capri’ and perhaps the most aspirational of all: 

“Queensland”.