On the last night of our cruising holiday in the Carmargue in the South of France, we chose a promising cafe beside a busy road junction in the town of St Gilles for our evening's entertainment.

With eight roads converging on one lozenge-shaped junction, and cars, scooters and vans veering in all directions without any discernible signals, it's surely an accident waiting to happen.

But for all the hair-raising near- misses and dangerous manoeuvres, none of the locals seemed remotely bothered by this blink-and-you'll- miss-it demolition derby.

Back home, tempers would have frayed, fists would have flown and lawsuits would have been filed.

But, in Southern France, that kind of aggro goes entirely against the grain. All the barman at the Cafe du Post managed was a typically Gallic shrug of his enormous shoulders (he'd once played front row for Pontypool) and a flat denial that he'd ever witnessed any mishaps.

These locals are so laid back they're almost falling over, an attitude typical of the region which speaks volumes about why Southern France is such a magnet for us stressed-out Brits.

We had flown from Bristol to Beziers for a cabin-cruiser expedition organised by Le Boat along the picturesque Canal du Midi, following in the wake of West TV chef Rick Stein, who managed to persuade the Beeb to let him film an entire series on the journey.

My editor isn't quite so indulgent, so I'd better get on with describing the cruise itself.

Our base was a marina just outside Beziers called Port Cassifieres. Here, we were shown aboard our cabin cruiser, which turned out to be about the size of the German battleship Tirpitz and about as manoeuvrable (bow- thrusters notwithstanding).

After a very brief rundown on the systems ("aim the pointy bit where you want to go and switch the engine on"), we were off, zigzagging along the thankfully broad canal in a vaguely eastern direction.

The boat is a 10-berth Grand Classique, spacious enough to sleep the first battalion of our kids – two young boys, two teenage girls, my mum and my missus, with cabins to spare.

Before you cover your face in horror at the possible family-at-sea scenarios, it's worth pointing out that the boat is more than comfortable enough to accommodate tantrums, sickness and assorted "I want to be alone" moments – most notably from yours truly, "Capitan 'Arding".

Our journey took us east toward the awesome and almost untouched Carmargue. We'd need to steer the boat through two locks and negotiate one raised bridge. Go the other way toward Toulouse, and you're obliged to tackle eight locks before you've gone beyond Beziers.

You should spend some time considering your destinations, as the locks, stops and mooring points do vary in terms of frequency, ease of use and personal stress levels.

Don't just jump on and hope for the best – ensure you bone up on the cruising guide before you arrive somewhere.

Our first problem was the weather. Unseasonal high winds had whipped the immense but shallow lagoon called the Etang du Thau into a bit of a lather. The lock-keeper at Agde advised us to avoid it until things had calmed down.

This stranded us at a fairly nondescript town just five miles into our cruise, but it meant we got to explore the area thoroughly before moving on down to Marseillan.

This was much more like it, a true taste of Southern France.

We moored outside the best fish restaurant in town and spent a couple of days enjoying this lively tourist resort with its superb facilities and busy bars.

We then headed out across the Etang toward Sette, also renowned for the quantity and quality of its seafood. Oyster beds stretch for miles along the coast, but apart from strict instructions against sailing into them, and to refrain from flushing the toilets, there was precious little in the way of navigational tips.

We simply headed for the enormous outcrop above the town, and spent an entertaining hour trying to figure where the canal had gone.

The trick is to head left in the bay and locate the Canal du Rhone et du Sette, which will carry you along the second part of your journey.

After a fairly arduous and featureless voyage ("look boys, flamingos" – "so what?") we arrived in the Mediterranean seaside resort of Palavas Les Flots, a sort of upmarket Blackpool with better beaches.

After being cooped up in the boat for hours, the boys relished the chance to swim in the sea, and we actually quite liked the place despite its overly commercialised quaysides and tacky shops.

The port facilities were also the best we'd encountered, with modern showers and toilet block.

From here on in, the scenery changed dramatically, the endless lagoons giving way to endless reedbeds and broad marshes, a narrow causeway dividing the flamingo-studded pools from the distant Med.

I spotted bee-eaters and one hoopoe, although my description of this remarkable bird led to allegations I was suffering from too much sun.

Aigues Mortes is an authentic medieval walled town built as an embarkation point for the Crusades. Its narrow streets are filled with interesting shops and fabulous bars. We tried L'Express on the corner of the central square, and were delighted by the cosmopolitan atmosphere and noisy local clientele.

Leaving this remarkable town, we found ourselves in jaw-droppingly beautiful countryside, with avenues of parasol pines framing the canal and seas of reeds beyond. There were white horses, flamingos and other wildlife everywhere we looked.

But this improvement in scenery was not matched in terms of stopping points. Gallician is in the middle of nowhere, and the cafe owners' eyes lit up as we arrived for an evening meal.

Four omelettes, seven portions of frites, a bottle of wine and a few beers later, we were down an astonishing 136 euros (about £120) – although in truth you'd rarely have felt so welcomed while being fleeced.

The next day, we covered the final few kilometres to St Gilles and moored up for the final time without too many mishaps. If we'd done our homework, we would have perhaps spent more time in Beziers at the start of the holiday and the wonderful Aigues Mortes at the end.

The beauty of this cruise, though, is discovering all the region's secrets for yourselves. A couple of words of caution, though. It wasn't the best holiday for kids, and mooring fees mount up as you move along the coast.

Ensure you have proper instruction on the boat's systems before you set off, as you're quite literally cast off on your own after a very brief rundown. As a unique and stimulating introduction to this wonderful corner of France, however, a cruise with Le Boat would take some beating.

WESTERN DAILY PRESS READER OFFER: follow in Simon Harding's wake and enjoy a 10 per cent saving. Le Boat is offering readers the saving on boat-hire prices for all 2009 holidays booked by January 31. In addition to France, Le Boat offer boating holidays in Italy, Belgium, Holland, Germany, Ireland and the UK. Call 0844 463 3577 to book and quote PTWU.

SIMON Harding cruised the Camargue region in the South of France with Le Boat aboard a Grand Classique.

Le Boat offers a range of self-drive cruisers for parties of between two and 10 people, with prices starting from £480 per week rising to £930 in the summer months. No previous boating experience is required. Short breaks of three, four and five nights and longer stays are also available.

For more details call 0844 463 3577 or visit www.leboat.co.uk