ABOVE: Canal Du Midi

Canal du Midi - A beginner's guide

I don’t think I’ve ever waved with such reckless abandon in all my life. Plodding along the Canal du Midi towards the Camargue, fellow canal boaters seem eager to communicate. At first their cheery greetings are returned with a jerky, slightly embarrassed arm extension, but by the end of a leisurely week cruising the Languedoc backwaters, pausing to wander ancient towns and feast on local delicacies, I am converted. Suddenly I’m waving at everything and everyone in my wake, hapless motorists and cyclists included. The waving, it transpires, is part of an unspoken boating code – a waterway etiquette that entails discussing with fellow cruisers the height of the water at the next lock and the mooring facilities along the way. And this code, it seems, encourages travel at the most tranquil of speeds (accompanying glass of rosé optional).

There’s something soul cleansing about life in the slow lane. Cruising gently down the canal with the sounds of birds and water washing over one like a New Age relaxation tape feels like the perfect antidote to the high-speed pace of daily life. Our home for the week is surely the king of the water – almost 40 feet of boating bravado. This isn’t some practical, uncomfortable vessel; we’re doing the canal in style, and this means on-deck dining table, pine-finish kitchen and electric amenities. My partner and I may be canal novices (more of this later), but with a healthy amount of rubber strapped to the hull as standard – just in case we have the odd bump or scrape along the way – we’re ready. How far away from quick-fix holidays this all feels. For this, of course, is the alternative to that madness: a conscious decision to savour one’s surroundings, to be the tortoise and not the hare.

With this modus operandi clearly worked out, we’d set out from England for France. Forget the plane; it’s all about the train. Shooting down the spine of France on the TGV, the flat expanses of the north stretch for miles outside the windows – a smudged palette of greens and yellows – as the train works its way towards the Mediterranean. The oppressive, northern European sky seems to lift as we continue our descent, as though breathing a drawnout sigh of relief. Colours become more vibrant as the blue of the sky takes on a deeper hue. South of Valence, the countryside changes dramatically, brimming with neatly planted rows of vines and olive bushes stretching towards the horizon.


Read the full article on pages 34-40 of this months issue.

Click here to buy the latest issue of France Magazine online