The last section of the Canal between Champagne and Burgundy is almost dead straight for almost 20 miles, through the industrial suburbs of St Dizier, or through flat industrial farmland. The boredom was broken briefly by a broken lock, with a German boat in it and me waiting. Gave me a chance to have lunch. When the man came, he put together long rods to make long handled tool like a manure fork, and dug about in the mouth of the gate to shift whatever was stopping the gates from closing.
It may seem low tech but it worked.
Apart from that, my only excitement was seeing the first Little Grebes of this journey, and a Sparrowhawk. Suddenly there are moorhens everywhere, and sycamores, and willows. Quite like home.