Port Roanne

We found the barge that was to become our home at the port of Roanne in central France. It was an old steel Dutch sailing tjalk, built in 1908 to carry commercial cargo, but it had been beautifully converted for luxurious mobile living for two people or more. At 21 metres she was fairly large, but we weren’t fazed by this, as some years before we had owned one slightly larger.

When we first saw Quo Vadis we knew it was to be our home

When we were younger! On our first barge 15 years before.

 It was November 2010 when we moved onto Quo Vadis, meaning something like "Where are you going?" But I nicknamed her Fat Alice, which suited her well with her big round bows and equally large backside. We had to wait until March before the locks opened and we could move off our mooring in the port and start our travels down the Roanne à Digoin Canal. There were three of us – Martin ‘the captain of my heart’, me, and our dog Nutmeg, affectionately known as Nutty, a boxer-cross who had journeyed with us from Turkey. 

Our barge's wheelhouse had a door on either side so you could moor up and step out on whichever side you wanted. From there you went a few steps down into the saloon, which had a luxurious Wedgewood-blue carpet and large windows on both sides. Two steps further down was an apartment-sized kitchen-diner with a secret entrance to a ‘cave’ where we could store all sorts of goodies. A corridor led to the bathroom, a guest bedroom, and a large owner’s bedroom the full width of the barge, with his and hers built-in wardrobes and cupboards on either side running beneath the deck. 

 In front of all that, down a separate entrance, was a working area where the batteries, generator and fuel tank and central heating boiler were installed together with a jumble of ropes and old tyres. Beneath the wheelhouse and part of the saloon-lounge area was the big old diesel engine with its own batteries and fuel tank along with a multitude of useful tools and gadgets. 

On the side by the land we drew the net curtains, as the French liked to walk along and have a look in – but on the other side we looked out over the water to the boats moored across the port. There were other barges like us, as well as small canal boats and motor boats. Directly opposite us a converted tug boat was moored.

All snowed up!

Soon after we moved in, we were all snowed up and the ducks were swimming around with piles of snow on their backs – they looked so strange and they must have been so cold! There were dib-chicks as well, tiny little things that bobbed up and down in the water. One day we had an invasion of cormorants – about 50 of them – when a shoal of fish must have come into the port. They were diving and coming up with fish, and at the same time were being attacked by seagulls for any bits of fish they dropped. Then they all left as suddenly as they had come. We saw them again later, all sitting on an island in the River Loire. 

 Although it was snowy outside, we were snug and warm in the barge with our oil-fired central heating. We put up some pictures – old favourites that had followed us from boat to house and to barge, as well as treasured ornaments and photographs. ‘Uncle Leonard’s chest’ acted as our filing cabinet – it was ideal for throwing things into and forgetting them! After our journey by van from our previous home in Turkey, nothing was broken when we reached France, which was rather amazing. It was impossible to do anything outside in the snowy weather, but there was plenty to do inside and lots of new things to learn about – the engine, generator, electrical system, bow-thrusters, and so on. But we wanted to be on our way.