I'm cycling the Canal du Nivernais...

... from one favourite little village to yet another...

I'm camped at Châtel-Censoir, a small burgundian town of around 600 people.  It sits on the river Yonne and the Canal du Nivernais and its primary industry was logging.  In centuries past the river and the canal were used to float the felled trees from the Morvan to Clamecy and then, once lashed into floating platforms of wood (trains des bois) of 36 metres in length, they were navigated along the waterways right into the heart of Paris.  The industry, commencing in the 16^th century, continued until the late 19^th century - modernisation and industrialisation taking the business away from the waterways.

From the campsite there is immediate access to the canal path and I'm cycling from Lock 57 up to Lock 59 at Merry-sur-Yonne.  Not a great distance, I know, but I have a specific reason for stopping off at Merry.  When I was here a couple of years ago, the old campsite there was being refitted and completely revamped.  I want to see if the people who had bought the site have managed to achieve their vision yet.

The path along the canal is quiet with the exception of the odd passing barge or river cruiser and I can amble along at my own pace.  Of course, I'm here mid-week.  Weekends are busier and the canal path is often full of LILs.  For those of you who don't recognise this term, it means Louts in Lycra.  Yep, that's right, those cyclists who hare along at 140ks an hour, who believe that the canal path is their own personal property, don't have a bell on their bike - it's excess weight - and would prefer to knock you off your bike in their slipstream instead of slowing down a little and passing you safely.  So, unlike all other users of the canal, who are polite and friendly and always greet you, LILs just treat you as though you are dog pooh.  I steadfastly ignore them as a result.

At the bridge leading into Merry I dismount and stroll across.  The bridge links into the route de Compostelle and the church.  Eglise St-Denis, on this occasion, is having some renovation work done.  I peek inside and there's a foot of stone dust on every single surface.  I decide to give it a miss.  Along the street, windows are open in the shade and shuttered against the sun on the opposite side.  The only sounds are the river in the distance and the birds.  The road forks at the war memorial, which is looking especially smart in the bright sunshine.  I feel sure it has had a facelift since my last visit and decide to check my photos when I get back home.

A companion for lunch! 

I take the left fork, which is impasses des Sables and leads to the campsite.  As I reach the entrance I can see that the place has been transformed.  The pitches are well spaced and defined, there are plenty of campers and the facility block - under serious remodelling when I was last here - is complete, modern and stylish. I'm suitably impressed and spend some time chatting to some campers.

The sun is hot on my back and I can feel the skin on my calves beginning to complain. I take my leave and return, at a leisurely pace, to Châtel-Censoir.

You can read more about my journey along the waterways Here and I will be covering another stretch of the canal in June, so watch this space!