A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.
Whilst there was no campsite nearby it turned out that there was an auberge. The woman running it was a bit miffed that the tourist office hadn't mentioned it to me. It was an old lock-keeper's house that she'd converted, it was still owned by the council but she had paid for the renovations and so had 18 years rent free.
There were two rooms with four beds in each and the more people who appeared the cheaper your share of the room became. Which basically meant you couldn't be sure to have the room to yourself and that put me off. Besides, I like my tent and I can be sure that I have that to my'self, insects permitting.
She also sold jams and various foodstuffs, and, on the wooden veranda you can see to the right of the building, you could eat. I had coffee and fresh orange juice as a treat, and as the cost of entry to the toilet of course.
This was the noisiest part of the canal, on the left a busy main road, the cycle path, the canal, and then the main rail line to the Med with trains every 15 minutes.