We were greeted by a sunny morning and the Autumn colours on the far bank presented a bright welcome to the day.

A few large boats went past in the morning, but they created no real disturbance, so around 1000h we decided to head off on the journey north.

I provide the picture at left below, that I took yesterday when we arrived, as a prelude to what happened next. In preparation for leaving, we untied the ropes, and then moved forward. Strangely, both Rita and I sensed that something was wrong about going forward, but neither of us realised the problem, until we heard the sound of the upright mast hitting the bridge connecting the two “platforms”. Since I was standing up in the wheelhouse, the bridge was above my line of sight, while Rita was preparing the ropes for the lock just ahead. The sound of splintering wood was somewhat sickening, but we soon recovered from that surprise and continued on; we would check the condition of the mast when we were waiting for or moored in the lock ahead. And remember to watch for low bridges in the future; we must have been on big rivers for too long!

As we entered the Couzons lock, we saw that it had bollards in the wall like St Gilles, but this time we were prepared for them, and they posed no real problems. Rita soon became quite proficient at lifting the ropes from one bollard to the next. As in the Rhone locks, we only used the rear bollard on the barge, and used the bowthruster to control the front. However, to enable Rita to safely move the ropes up the bollards in the wall, I had to manoeuvre back and forth a bit, so I left the engine running while we were in the lock.

Unlike the Rhone, there appeared to be a surfeit of mooring locations on the Saone, although how many would be available in Summer is a moot point.

As we passed a yacht club along the way, my eye was captured by the neat precision of the alignment of the boats waiting to take part in a sailing class.

As we go further North, either the season is progressing or we're just getting further North (or both), but the autumn colours are getting more and more pronounced. Another advantage of Autumn cruising, with a camera (or an iPhone)!

We passed through Trevoux at PK31, and it looked like a very nice town.

We were also impressed by the cabins in the campground just north of the town.

We have seen many pushers with two barges in front over the past couple of weeks, but the barges have all been one behind the other. This pusher had the gravel barges doubled-up side by side. We gave him ample clearance.

As we approached Jassans-Riottier, we saw lots of swans near a parkland on the left, both in the water and out of the water. When we saw people feeding them, we knew the reason for the congregation.

This location also gave me my first photo of flying swans, as a group headed up the river to the parkland area.

We decided to moor at Jassens-Riottier (PK40) early, in front of a restaurant at a very neat set of pontoons, and just spend some time relaxing on this lovely sunny day. As always, we were soon joined by a small family of swans (two adults, one signet), and decided to feed them a bit. But one of the adults got very agro when the young swan took some of the bread, biting him and eventually just chasing him away. This occurred several times, and finally the young swan decided to just keep his distance. We later read that this is typical swan behaviour at this time of year, as the parents chase the kids away to force them to become independent and perhaps join up with another swan who has also been chased away by her parents.

It was such a lovely afternoon, we decided to go for a bike ride along the river. So off we went to the north, along a bike path that varied in quality from wide bitumen to a half-metre dirt track through overhanging trees. Along the way, at Beauregard, we saw a classic set of tree houses, including this one attached to a towering redwood.

In Beauregard, we took time to visit a local boulangerie and pick up some smackerals for a picnic on the banks of the Saone. The view was good and the smackerals were even better.

After our picnic, we headed back but made a detour in Beauregard to try finding a local chateau that we had heard about. We asked a group of local ladies, who gave us some directions, so up the hill we headed. We paused at an intersection with phones/GoogleMaps in hand to see where we should go, when a car stopped near us and the driver asked if we needed help. We clearly did, so he pulled his car over and came back to help us. After we explained what we were looking for, and he advised us that the chateau we were looking for was private, he explained that he was the Mayor of Beauregard! He then said that he should get his car off the road, but he only lived a little way up the street, so we should come up and meet him there. He pulled into a driveway 50 metres up the road, and we cycled up and waited for him at the front gate.

But he then said we should come in and sit down for a while. So we went in and sat around a table, where we were joined by the Mayor of neighbouring town Fariens, and the Beauregard Mayor’s wife and later his teenage son. We enjoyed a cool drink, and when he found out we were from Australia and Switzerland, we were treated like visiting royalty. After a while the Mayor excused himself to make a phone call, while the conversation continued with the other Mayor and the wife (who was in a wheelchair with a broken leg). When the Mayor returned, he said he had spoken to the owner of the private chateau, who had given permission for us to go visit the chateau!

So after about an hour of conversation, the Mayor’s son jumped on his bicycle and escorted us up to the chateau and showed us around the grounds. Unfortunately, we couldn’t go inside because no one was at home. But I’m sure if the owner had been there, we would have got the full internal inspection as well. This is the view we got as we entered the backyard of the chateau...

...and this is one view from the front in the setting sun (it was too wide to get all the front in one photo). We talked with the son for a while, and he wanted to know lots about Australia. He also wanted to know how we knew his dad; when we explained that he had literally just picked us up in the street, he had a bemused look on his face. Either his dad never did this sort of thing, or else his dad was doing it all the time!

We rode down the hill with the son, and said goodbye at his corner, to continue our ride home. It’s events such as this that make you appreciate the friendliness and generosity of French people, particularly in the countryside, and makes you forget about petty bureaucrats in a Prefecture. On the way home, I surprised Rita!

When we got back to the barge, we enjoyed sunset on the back deck...

… while we polished off the last of the Jade gluten-free beer that Flis had left in our care.