the Midi Canal: beautiful, part I
I was given a lesson in boat navigation/operation by good guy Michel, whom you can see below. But unfortunately, Michel doesn't speak any English - not a word - and so I didn't understand the lesson at all.
I just nodded a lot and kept saying "ah ... oui, oui".
What's the worst that could happen?
Two passengers set sail this day for a three hour tour.
A three hour tour.
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Michel:
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The Canal du Midi was built in the 17th c. to connect the Atlantic to the Mediterranean via 150 miles of exquisite gorgeousity:
The happy girlfriend/first mate:
Is she happy
a) because of all the enchanting beauty?
b) because we're not in the car anymore?
c) because she's relieved the Captain hasn't made her walk the plank ... yet?
The jury is out.
In keeping with the wise old seafaring tradition which says that the Captain always goes down with the ship, I informed First Mate L that, should there be any sort of desperate maritime emergency, she would instantly and unceremoniously be promoted to Captain.
Congratulations First Mate L!
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There were mountains and vineyards on both sides of us most of the time.
In fact, there was almost too much beauty.
Too much beauty.
Way too much.
Please make it stop.
Please dear god I can't take it anymore.
My mind is going. There is no question about it.
I can feel it.
I can feel it.
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We passed a cemetery on the side of the canal, a cemetery ... where death meets beauty.
and then there was some more beauty:
and more:
one of the many bridges we passed under:
another bridge:
another:
and another:
and another:
And then there was more beauty:
and more:
more beauty:
and finally ... beauty:
