There’s some bad news, says the ship’s purser, Hans, as he comes over with a worried look on his face to where we sit happily ensconced in the hot tub. The lock is closed and it’s a public holiday, so there’s no one to open it for us. We’ll have to moor up here for the night.
He braces himself for our disappointment, but with the grassy wildflower-covered banks of the Petit Rhône rising to either side, the sun high in
