France leave with a bottle of wine or two.” Luckily, there are no interlopers and our wine stash remains intact. We are left to roam alone, occasionally espying nesting storks, white horses and wild-eyed black bulls. Bosco, the barge’ s guest dog, stays close to base. Not too far away are salt pans, where the salt is dried by the Mistral wind. We overnight in our barge in the reeds and are lulled to sleep by unidentifiable sighs.
Next comes the excitement of the sea, or at least the Etang De Tau, which borders the Mediterranean. Only sandbars separate this brackish lagoon from the sea. After so long spent under verdant canal canopies, we feel exhilarated by the salty tang of the sea. Tellingly, this saltwater lake is also sandwiched between the Canal du Midi and the Canal du Rhone. The barge glides past the oyster fisheries and mussel beds and we come nose to nose with the molluscs. The oysters are speared on ropes and suspended just above the lagoon.
In the quaint lagoon fishing ports our crew buys fresh fish and shellfish straight off the boat. Our voyage ends at Marseillan, a pretty port founded by the Phoenicians but now synonymous with shellfish and Noilly Prat, a dry Vermouth infused with herbs. On the bistrot menus are shrimps, sea urchins and eels, but above all oysters and mussels. Moored in the inner harbour, we are entranced by the yachts, which now feel like alien craft to us bargees.
At best, the mood on board has been like a floating house party with like-minded people who also love barges and canal-cruising. By the end of the voyage we have all become raging barge snobs.“ More Tupperware heading our way” shrieks one of our party upon spotting a non-wooden boat bearing down upon us. But if you have any doubts about the selectness of the company, simply charter the barge and bring your own crowd. Let Anjodi serve up the atmosphere and intimacy. Just choose your friends wisely and go with the flow. ■
22 | EuroTravel