Carcassonne to Narbonne (again)

Team clang has decided to head in the direction of Montpellier, so as it’s en route we return to the aire in Nabonne… well at lest we know where we’re going.

Well, well, well the caravan using nomadic travellers are still camped up and yet again the entry barrier is missing so they really are little tinkers. Himself being the honest type he is has duly punched our van reg into the system so looks like we will be paying when we really could have had a cheeky freebie.

Last time we were here it was too hot to go into the town, but there is free use of the bus when staying here, except it doesn’t run on a Sunday so it was ‘Shank’s Pony’ instead.

It was a pleasant walk along the Robine canal which has a small port that feeds directly into the Canal du Midi. It took us 20 minutes to reach the centre, passing house boats and floral covered bridges along the way.

The outdoor market is currently being dismantled but ‘Les Halles’ (indoor market) is buzzing with folks enjoying lunch, even though they are squished on tiny bar stools. The exterior of the Halles is decorated with old photographs of what we believe to be local residents and adds a certain charm to the building.

Narbonne has the usual Cathedral and Town Hall but we skirted round these and carried on along to the lock instead.

05-08-2018 Narbonne 7

Beautiful flowers adorned it and we had a good gongoozle at a tourist boat descending it.

Meanwhile back at camp, the place is filling up quickly with Moho’s en-transit and this always comes with it’s own type of entertainment. Please don’t think we are net curtain twitchers, I’d like to call us observationalists, but we have an interesting pair as tonight’s neighbours. They are an older French couple and Madame has been glued to their satellite TV whilst shouting out instructions to Monsieur. So far he’s had to wash dogs x 2 plus all their paraphernalia and cooked dinner. However, she did pop out to scoff that lot down then its back to the crap TV again. Poor old bugger then washes up, dries up, puts all their tables and chairs away and she hasn’t lifted a finger.

No wonder that sometime later we spot him openly flirting with a younger Madame in the Sports Complex over the way. Go on mate, do yourself a favour dump the old model and get yourself someone who appreciates you like we do each other… where’s the sick bucket again?

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