The Canal and the Crew

the Canal du Midi moves slowly. That's the point of it, I think — four centuries old, cut by hand through the south of France, lined with plane trees that turn the light into something you want to stop and photograph. We spent a week in that world. Four days in Homps, three in Villeneuve-lès-Béziers. The motorhome parked. The road, for once, waiting. Jolie led every walk the way she always does — with complete authority, nose down, certain of her direction. Then at some point known only to her, she would stop, look up at me, and wait to be carried. No negotiation. No explanation. Just the look. I carried her. The Canal du Midi has that effect on everyone — sooner or later, you stop rushing. In Villeneuve-lès-Béziers we found a Camping Card spot and a boulangerie worth the detour. Le had her hair washed in Homps. I had mine cut. Small things that feel large after weeks on the road — the luxury of a good chair, someone else's hands, an hour of stillness that isn't driving.

Then the levelling system started talking.

Roque — our Awesome crew mechanic — listened carefully, asked the right questions, and gave his diagnosis from wherever the crew lives when we're not talking to them. The Linnepe AutoLift needed proper attention. Not dangerous, he said. Safe to return to Portugal. We trusted him and pointed the Benimar south. We're in Caldas da Rainha now. Home base. The repairs are being arranged.

This was our first trip with the full Awesome Crew behind us — Vento reading the weather and the roads ahead, Roque watching over the Benimar, Chef Simão turning whatever Le found in a village market into something worth eating, the Journey App quietly tracking every kilometer. Thirty years ago, Roger and Le found each other on the internet, paying by the hour for the connection. Now the connection travels with us. It fits in the motorhome. It knows our names. The Canal du Midi is a World Heritage Site. So is a week well lived.