I set off at 9 AM from home and after 2 km, I reach the lateral canal of the Garonne.
Near the port of Valence d’Agen, at the old municipal slaughterhouse, the rest stop welcomes hikers, cyclists, and camper vans from March to October.
See photos here:
http://voyageforum.com/...post=4229381#4229381
A year after opening, it’s still in great condition.
I plan to head to Montauban by following the lateral canal of the Garonne to Montech, then the eponymous canal that allows boats to reach the prefecture of Tarn-et-Garonne. (see first photo below)
More history here:
http://voyageforum.com/...post=1919131#1919131By 11 AM, after 20 km, I arrive in Moissac, where I buy almond croquants at the market and enjoy them by the Tarn.
In 30 minutes, I reach the Yves Cousteau port in Castelsarrasin, where boat maintenance is still ongoing.
After a long period of inactivity that saw the canal freeze this winter, pleasure boating reopens at the end of March.
After admiring the water slope at 44 km, I arrive in Montech with its charming little port. It’s already 12:15 PM, and luckily, I don’t plan to have lunch at the *Eclusier* restaurant, which is waiting for a new owner.
I take the fork toward Montauban. Unlike the Garonne canal, the 11 km of the towpath here have remained unpaved. The banks are badly damaged by the combined effects of boat waves and coypus. Ongoing work with sheet piles (later cut to level) between water and land gives hope for new developments. But despite the short length of the Montech canal, the surface varies greatly depending on the work sections. Here, large stones after a bridge renovation; there, rubble after bank alignment with wood; or even pebbles mixed with dirt. Smooth, bike-friendly dirt sections are rare, though fine gravel ensures good riding near Montauban.
There’s always something happening on the canal. Almost every 10 km, there’s an interesting town to visit and a port (which makes sense on a waterway), except by boat, it would’ve taken me much longer to see as much.
After the port of Montauban (55 km), the water from the Montech canal rushes under the railway and road, and through two locks, allows boaters to descend into the Tarn. I can follow it by taking a staircase that leads to the rowing club.
It’s already 1:30 PM, and I won’t go any farther. Feeling bold, I join the only couple dining on the sun-drenched terrace. The other customers at the nautical club’s restaurant preferred the shade inside. They really should put out the umbrellas (but next week, it might freeze again). The nautical club’s salad is delicious and will be enough for me to hit the road again under the midday sun after refilling my water bottle with fresh water kindly offered by the restaurateur.
Luckily, my panniers aren’t too heavy to climb the lock staircase.
A man tells me the other tunnel would’ve been more practical (the one I took in 2008). He adds it’ll take me 1 hour to return to Valence. I say more like 4.
He’s already covered the 11 km of the connecting canal by MTB in 20 minutes. That’s an average of 33 km/h, I tell him. My max recorded by the counter this morning was 31.6 (probably a downhill). I add that I went to the market and took photos. He then reached Toulouse in 1 hour!
Actually, he’s a fisheries warden. With his binoculars, he observes and fines offenders. I think to myself that on foot, he won’t see many.
It takes me 1 hour to cover those cursed 11 km, walking sometimes due to digestion and a sore backside. For the 44 km between Montech and Valence d’Agen, I’ll have a headwind and will only arrive painfully at 7 PM—5 hours for the return (4 hours on the way out, sightseeing included). Total: 110 km in 10 hours.
As I approach Valence, I cross paths with a cyclist on the path. He invites me to stop, but his pace isn’t very inviting. He tells me I can take a shower at the old slaughterhouse and sleep there. I thank him, but the rest stop closes at 6:30 PM in spring, and it’s not an overnight stop. I wonder where he’s headed with his undersized bike and basic gear.
That’s how a Saturday could’ve turned into a pleasant day of port-hopping if the northwest wind hadn’t picked up. It’s a regular in the Garonne Valley, which it sweeps through.