A couple of years ago some neighbours gave us an old canoe
which had been sitting in their garden for many years.
It then sat in our garden for a couple more
years.
I can’t say I was too excited
about it (it didn’t ‘float my boat’ as the expression goes!) as it was just a
‘shell’ with two rotten wooden benches inside – but my partner loves a
‘project’ and at last, in August, it was finished and declared ‘sea-worthy’.
Our ‘favourite’ lake is Darnius in Spain because it is a
lovely setting, easily accessible, free to launch boats, dog-friendly and also
there is a restaurant! Monday 2nd
September was the perfect day to take go, being officially the ‘end of
summer’ (so the roads to Spain were clear as there are less tourists), and also
it was an overcast day so no danger of sun-burn.
In fact it was so overcast that it felt almost chilly on the lake so I
didn’t complain too much about being made to wear a life-jacket despite my
protestations that I can swim and also had no intention of going in the water
(famous last words …)
All went very well – it floated. I sat behind, checking for leaks, and J-M
rowed our way across the lake all the way to the other side. We stopped in a little inlet and got out to
celebrate the successful launch with a little ‘Apero’ – but as the canoe didn’t
have a name it seemed more sensible to drink the Cava than to smash the bottle
against the hull. That was probably the
cause of what happened next. I got back
into the canoe, then J-M climbed back in, lost his balance, and in what seemed
like slow-motion, the canoe overturned and we both ended up underwater.
Having managed to rescue the shoes, picnic bag and oars, we
rowed back in soggy silence. Luckily I
was wearing a bikini – but it was underneath a dress, a t-shirt, what turned
out to be a very water-absorbent fleecy jacket and also the life-jacket. It took ages to wring ourselves out as best
we could, and then we dripped our way into the restaurant to dry out and warm up
with chicken and chips.
Lessons learned: Bring spare clothes, put your telephone/car
keys in a waterproof pocket and above all, don’t drink while canoeing!
Much as we love the tourists here (oh yes we do!), there is
always a slightly euphoric feeling at the end of the season when you can
actually drive from A to B without following enormous camper vans with paddle
boards and bicycles strapped to the back or GB registered saloon cars with
straw hats and a copy of The Times on the back parcel shelf. The pleasure of driving on clear roads last
for just a few days as then it is harvest-time for the vineyards.
This season I’ve noticed more and more of the big industrial
machines and I’m not entirely sure this is A Good Thing. Being an expert on the subject of
grape-picking (having once helped our neighbour) I remember how careful we had to be with the secateurs; to support the bunch at the bottom as we cut the stem, not to fling them into the bucket, and to avoid getting too many leaves in. It seems obvious that using a
machine that travels over the vines and shakes the grapes (and goodness knows
what else) into its large steel bins can’t do much for the quality of the wine,
however quick and efficient it may be.
Having said that, the Languedoc has generally been known for quantity
rather than quality and I believe that most of the machine harvested grapes end
up in the local ‘co-operative’ where small producers share their harvest and
share the production. This may sound
like A Bad Thing but actually our local co-operative produces some really
delicious bottles – as well as some very average 5-litre bag-in-box
examples! 
