Sunday, June 22, 2008

The Ardennes

            Some might say it was just a lunch stop, which it was…but in reality it was the quintessential  French canal barging experience. 

            We hadn't really planned on it. On Saturday we had exhausted ourselves with a long seven hour day and numerous locks.  So, on Sunday we were hoping to take it easy, but the problem was that ahead of us there was flight of 27 locks up the hills of the Ardennes.  What we mean by a flight of locks is that they were more or less a chain, with each lock being only about 500 or 1000 yards apart and you pass directly from one to the next.  And of course they are the classic French canal lock dimension, which means an opening in the concrete that is just 5.2 meters wide (LaLavande is 4.9 meters wide, so you see the problem).

            Starting at 8 we  arrived at lock 20 (starting from lock 27) at 11 a.m….a distance of  about 4.5 kilometers.  There was a great mooring spot there and on the other side of the canal was a small restaurant in an ancient mill building. 

            We had been more or less steaming in convoy with our new French friends, Francois and Jo, on Little Nemo and they also agreed that a 3 hour day was quite enough, so they pulled over and together we decided to lunch at the  Restaurant Sans Souci.

            As we crossed the bridge over the canal it suddenly hit me that this is the  experience you hope for when you set out on the canals.

            The sun had finally come out (we have had only about five days of sunshine since leaving Paris). The air was still.  The only sound  was the chirping of birds and an occasional lowing of cows in a nearby field.  The rolling meadows were multi shades of green, bordered by dark trees.  The  orange roofs and dun stones of the buildings of the little commune bordering the canal could only be "rural" France.

            The restaurant was pleasant surprise.  Being deep in rural Francde we didn't expect too much from the chef…but his home-made fois gras and intelligent  presentation made it a memorable repast, all served by a charming and talkative midddle-aged waiter with as great smile and bad teeth.

            There we were on this balcony overlooking the canal, lolling over a three hour lunch, lubricated with two bottles of bourdeaux.  And then the lone accordion from the other room began playing the traditional French songs….Mademoiselle de Paris, La Vie en Rose, and the other "old timers" (provided you count the  Beer Barrel Polka as a French  old timer).  It was a movie scene, or at least a Renoir painting.

            Jo and Francois were perfect company for this perfect French country dimanche dejeuner with laugh filled conversation, mostly in French, but with a word or two in English for the dummy in the crowd.

            And now to put a period to the scene, across the canal, as I write this,  alongside of the road four men have started the traditional Petanque game (Petanque is a bowling game similar to the Italian bocce).

            How much more French can it get??

            Now to briefly fill you in on the other events since the last blog entry when we had left you with the Monet and Renoir heritage.  This whole valley was what you might call the Impressionists Alley.  We came to Pontoise, which was Pissarro's "town." This was followed closely by Auvers, which really  goes overboard for the memory of Vincent Van Gogh, who spent the last 70 days of his life there (at the suggestion of Pissarro) and during those 70 days in a fit of manic activity he produced 70 works (among them some of his best) and then shot himself.  We dined in the tavern where Van Gogh had the attic room and the bistro has been recreated exactly it had been.

            Up the  canal we discovered Compiegne  where  Napoleon I and III had built a enormous chateau,  which right now is somewhat off the normal tourist track. That is a fate it does not deserve.

            Down the road from there is an equally fabulous chateau, Pierrefonds, which  is a  fantasy recreation by Violet le Duc  (it would take too long to explain who he was).  We tried to make it by bike through the Compiegne Forest and belatedly realized it was more than 15 kilometers away and these old legs just weren't up to that much pedaling.  But in the short time in Compiegne Suzanne had made friends with Jean Pierre  an elderly gentlemen, who was quite a character and  who offered to  drive us out to Pierrefonds and give us a private guided tour, which was enlivened by the fact that a British film company was on the scene using the castle for  a medieval  epic.

            After that came Soissons, a small city that was 80 per cent destroyed in World War I…the awful memories of that war pervade the city.

            And now it is on with the canals to the Meuse River, where we will turn north for a jaunt up to Namur in Belgium.

            Stay turned.

Life in The Slow Lane!!

How fast do you go on with LaLavande?

Well, take this for example:

Monday at the crack of 8:30 (As opposed to the Crack of 10) we exit the lock at Arsenal in Paris and go on to the Seine.

We motor downstream for 6 hours (at a speed of about 8 kilometers per hour) and arrive at Rueil-Malmaison, which puts us 45 kilometrs on the river, but since the Seine winds around we are only 9 miles from the heart of Paris.

We stop here because Malmaison is where  Josephine's (you remember her, don't you…Bonaparte's empress) chateau is.

Great mooring, with a long solid pontoon along the river…and as we look out the window we are staring at Maison Fournaise, the restaurant  where the Impressionists hung out and which Renoir immortalized with his famous "Le Dejeuner des Canotiers". (Google that).

So, what's the rush…it's cool and drizzling on Tuesday so we'll just sit here and unwind from Paris. And at night we  tramped 20 blocks in the mist  to the movie to see the Indian Jones picture in version Francaise. (Did you ever realize that  Harrison Ford spoke such wonderful French…but in a movie like that, who needed the dialogue?)

Wednesday we planned to have lunch at Fournaise and then bike out to the chateau, but the  weather turned splendid…so we just had a long, long lunch at Fournaise (with a  bottle of a white Bourdeau) on the balcony overlooking the river and said maybe we'll take in the chateau on Thursday.  What the Hell…where are we rushing to??

Since we were in Malmaison it was only fitting that we visit Josephine's maison.  So, on Thursday after a leisurely lunch we unlimbered the bikes and rode out there…only 20 minutes away.  And that pretty well killed all day Thursday.

Maybe Friday we'll get moving again.

All, well and good…so, what went on in Paris all winter?

The operative word is "busy". There is so much going on that we feel like slackers for not taking it all in. So, here are  just a few of the highlights ( If any of them interest you let us know and we can amplify):

• Getting involved with the Democrats Abroad (who have delegates at the convention) and meeting with the  Democrat "upper crust" of Paris at  Obama fund raisers
• In the first row of a Jessye Norman concert…wow!!
• Showing Paris to Suzanne's" niece", Anne Marie,..who had never been out of the country before.
• Having Josh and Jake with us for a New Year's  Eve dinner at a local petit bistro (after which the two guys went out on a pub crawl that lasted until 7:30 a.m.)
• Taking Josh and Jake to lunch at Taillevent for a taste of three star living .
• Passes to the Louvre which got us in by private entrance past the crowds and let us enjoy many hours there.
• The adventure of taking Luca on his first Metro ride. Before going Suzanne asked if it was Ok to take dogs on the Metro and got the  typical French answer,"C'est interdit, mais tolere". He was right a home…sleeping most of the way when not kissing other passengers.
• Going to some of the big "trade" fairs at the expositions halls…like 1,000 independent wine makers in one building…like the  tri-annual International Bread maker's fair (now there's where you get good baguettes)….a "home furnishing type of fair that has been going on for 140 years.
• And then there were trips back across the Atlantic…Jerry in January for tax work…Suzanne to Mexico in February for Josh's 40th…Suzanne to Washington in June for a meeting of the Bonobo Conservation Initiative..
• And finally in May we decided to see if the boat would still move, so , in company with our guests, Maeve and Richard and with Bill and Nancy Koenig we went through the tunnel up the Canal St. Martin.  But that is best illustrated with wonderful video (complete with music) that Nancy created. It give you a taste of moving 50 tonnes of steel through a very spooky tunnel and then through the streets of Paris.  So, check it out on Nancy's web site: http://livingonabargeinparis.blogspot.com  And you'll find the video at the May 11 entry.

And now, quo vadis?  When we manage to tear ourselves away from Malmaison we head down the Seine, then up the Oise and then up the Aisne and onto the canals in the Ardennes and down to Nancy.  Where we go form there…we don't know. The port hasn't  told us yet whether we will have a berth in Paris next winter, so we have to play it  loose.

Stay tuned…someday we may put the pedal to the metal and go full steam ahead and get somewhere…but there are some interesting things ahead of us that may slow us down…like up ahead is Pissaro's town and after that VanGogh's last town…so, we'll see.

Jerry and Suzanne

Let me start off with a mea culpa for not blogging since September…but the problem is that we have been swallowed up by Paris.

            When we last left you we were pulling into our winter mooring spot in the basin of Arsenal at the foot of Place Bastille. We had expected Paris to be something special, but it turned out to be more than that.  I guess that living way out in the country in Connecticut and then lolling around the canals in rural France had lulled us. We had forgotten what   living in the middle of a big city had to offer….which mainly is a bewildering choice of experiences waiting to be chanced upon.

            Let me first locate us for those of you not familiar with Paris.  Go to Google Earth and when you get Paris on the screen put the pointer on 48 degrees 51'01.55 N and  2 degrees 22'04.41 E.  These Google pictures were taken in the summer, so where you see a smallish motor boat (with a blue dinghy at the stern) that is where we are right now.

            As you can see, when we go to an opera or ballet at the Bastille Opera all we have to do is walk up the ramp to street level and there is the theatre.  Also right there is our Metro station, where we can hop on a train and eight stops later be at Opera Garnier (the grand, old opera building).  With our monthly passes we've become devotees of the Paris Metro and Bus system and by no means do we miss our car (which we garaged for the winter back in Roanne).

            Ah, Place Bastille…ten streets feed into the place and  if you want real excitement take your bicycle and thread your way through the traffic during rush hours…that gets your adrenalin going and gives a new meaning to the word Rush.

            Directly across the Place from our mooring is where they have an  open-air street market on Thursday and Sunday. There are about 70 street "marches" in Paris and this one at Bastille is just about the biggest.  With three "alleys", lined both sides with booths, it stretches for more than four city blocks…offering a cornucopia of fresh sea food, meats, poultry, vegetables, fruits , breads, and  spices….and the jostling crowds and shouting vendors provide an  atmosphere far removed from your antiseptic supermarkets.

            Well, let's not make this into a travelogue about Paris…there are miles of bookshelves lined with guides to Paris, and the world doesn't need another one from me.  So, let's talk about how we spend our days.

            Cruising all summer on the canals is really not a terribly strenuous  activity (except for Suzanne's exertions when we go in and out of the locks) so when we got to Paris we resolved to seriously get ourselves back in shape. So, three mornings a week, first thing, we start off with long work-outs at the Club Med gym that we have joined.

            The next serious activity is the study of French.  Both of us are taking private lessons on board from a charming young professional language instructor, who loads us both with serious homework.  Suzanne, already quite fluent in French, is working her way into the depths of French verbs and poor Jerry is mumbling his way through some pretty elementary stuff, but making a bit of progress.  Suzanne also has a wonderful weekly conversation (rather advanced)  group, half the participants are English speakers and half are French…so they split the time using and learning the two languages

            Jerry has gotten back to painting and it is breathtaking.  His "instructor" is a young, struggling artist who teaches in his "atelier", which is his one room apartment up under the "roofs of Paris."  It may sound a bit "romantic" but it is the walk up the five floors of winding stairway that takes one's breath away. (Ha, so much for the gym getting him in shape!)

             On top of that there is just the fun of being here. What a sheer pleasure to round a corner somewhere and come face to face vistas of the Paris of picture books.  Or what about the plethora of museums (Pariscope, the weekly magazine of happenings in Paris, lists 89 museums and 12 pages of "expositions" of various kinds).  Of course there are also the restaurants, ranging from the corner bistros to the three-star "Grands". Not to mention the pleasure of our continual string of guests (it is amazing how many people are just "passing through Paris" and drop in).

            Now, a small sample of some  highlights:

              Lunch, with Jerry's sister, Lee, at Tour d' Argent (a  "Grand" restaurant that may be considered "touristy", but nevertheless  a spectacular settings for a fine meal);  an excellent performance of "Tosca" at Operas Bastille and an equally fine  "Alcina" at the Opera Garnier;  the collections of arts of  Oceania, Africa, Asia and the Americas at the superb new Musee du Quai Branly, to which we now have an annual pass;  a great exhibition of the paintings of Chaim Soutine: and of course, our traditional dinner at Taillevent, which we consider the best restaurant in the world!

             All in all, there is so much here to attract us that it seems like we never have enough time…we wonder how we are  going to do it all!  I guess we'll just have to  get busy (or busier).

            And so, as we come to the end of an eventful year let us wish you all a very happy holiday season….we'll be back blogging in the spring when we  leave Paris for new adventures on the canals and rivers.

Paris, at last!!   

             With our friend Sani on board we made quick passage down the Marne to its confluence with the Seine and that's where Paris begins.  To tell you of our entry into the City of Light this issue of the blog is being turned over to our guest editor, Suzanne.

      Our entry into the Paris, with Sani Wolf Fogel, my long time friend and college roommate, aboard, was just as thrilling as I had hoped and imagined it might be.  Cruising down the Seine, under all the bridges, past Notre Dame and the Mitterand Library and the Louvre, the Orsay Museum, past the bookstalls, around the little island with the replica of the Statue of Liberty, we slipped into our mooring space at Quai de Grenelle, on the Seine, about two blocks from the Eiffel Tower.  There it is, all lit up at night (every hour at night, it sparkles for 10 minutes or so) right in front of La Lavande.

            Of course our entry had it's hairy moments on the busy Seine, waiting for the red light to change to green so we could proceed, turning this monster of a boat in circles for forty minutes while huge loaded commercial barges churned by and one Bateau Mouche after another rocked past.  But we were delighted with ourselves for managing it all and toasted our arrival with a bit of the champagne we had laid in at Epernay. Jerry's boat handling, tested by this Paris entry, has moved up several notches. He is really very expert now.   We are indeed, very fortunate and I am grateful for every day of this little adventure that we've embarked upon.

    The next highlight was the brand new Museum of the Quai Branly with the most extensive and stunning collection of art and artifacts from Africa, Asia, Oceania and the Americas.  With 3,500 works on permanent display (out of a collection of 300,000) it must be the most outstanding collection in the world. Then there is the design of the building itself which is truly magical. 

            One whole exterior wall, at least six stories high and a block long, is a true vertical garden every inch of which is encrusted with thick, lush vegetation, including protruding masses of mosses and ferns, and vigorous woodland and shade plants.  Then, still on the exterior, one walks past a long, tall glass wall behind which are hillocks of more wild-looking massed greenery, tall grasses, small trees and shrubs and the occasional shot of color, a single red poppy plant, for example, or a single oak leaf hydrangea with blossoms drying in fall tones of red and rust.   The museum building itself if more or less hidden but a path to the entrance winds through this maze of vegetation and brings one, in a state of wonder, to the entrance and the ticket booths.  I was already in a zone before I ever set foot in the building. 

    The interior is just as impressive.  The entrance lobby circles a central glass tower that soars to the top of the building and displays a collection of 8,000 musical instruments. The collection itself is overwhelming.  In addition to all of the art and artifacts, there are frequent stops for excellent explanatory material and filmed interviews with individual tribal members or ceremonies or excellent film essays on all manner of subjects related to the items in the collection or the tribes and cultures being explored. In over two hours I only got through most of the section on Oceania although Jerry chose to survey the whole collection more quickly with the idea that we have all winter to return and savor these treasures at our leisure.  What a luxurious thought!  

    Mesmerized, we retreated to the sunshine of terrace of the little cafe to enjoy ice cream and a cup of espresso.  Some nights later, with Jerry's sister, Teddy, and her husband,   we dined at the upscale restaurant on the very top of the museum.  It's called "L'Ombre", the shadow, because it is in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower which sparkled, on the hour, throughout our excellent and very inventive, dinner.  .  Of course, all this was within a couple of blocks of where we were moored.  Now can you beat that? 

    We spent about ten days or so on this trip into Paris moored, as I said, on the Seine at the Quai de Grenelle.  Teddy and Whit arrived and after they had visited Versailles and the Orsay Museum, we pried ourselves off the Quai Grenelle and started up the Seine.  There was an unusually long day of cruising to the town of Melun where we spent two days. Teddy and Whit had a wonderful visit to the chateau of Vaux le Vicomte.  Jerry had a rare day of relative relaxation, and I found an African barber to cut my hair. 

             Next day we continued further up the Seine, past some rather luxurious riverfront homes and huge live aboard barges. We are now moored in the charming medieval town of Moret-sur-Loing, with its remaining medieval city gates and walls and the home of the impressionist painter, Alfred Sisley.  Last night we had a most inventive and excellent dinner in a small, modest but very sweetly decorated hotel in town. 

    On Tuesday friends from our sailing days arrive for a week's visit and, with them on board, we will return to Paris and tie up for the winter in the Arsenal.  I am ready to settle in for the fall and winter, looking forward to the gym, yoga, French lesson and, most of all, Paris with all its' delights.  We have tickets to operas, concerts, ballets, etc. and we have only just begun to explore the possibilities.

            There will undoubtedly be some sense of relief from not having to be concerned with boat handling and maintenance. Where we will be able to moor for the night?  Can boats our size moor at that place?   How much commercial traffic there will be? Do the locks on this canal close for lunch?  Will we tie up in time to go get a baguette? What will go wrong with the boat today?  These are the normal little stress points that come with living on a boat.  There is no doubt that it has been more than worth the trouble, but it will be nice to get settled in our cozy spot in Paris right under the Place de la Bastille. By next spring, we will be recharged and ready to tackle new canals in new regions of this endlessly interesting country.

Last year was the year of the burgundies.  So, this year will be known as the year of the champagnes.  But, more of this later.

                   When last seen we were on a canal that might be called "a backwater"…the very placid and dull Canal Entre Champagne et Bourgogne. 

          It was uneventful until the very end…after 222 kilometers and 143  locks  we finally got our comeuppance at the 144th lock…wherein your resolute barge driver "lost it" coming into the narrow lock opening and  as we slammed into one side of the lock one of our bumpers caught on the opening gate, bending it all to hell and breaking the hydraulic lines that controlled the lock.  Besides spraying hydraulic fluid all over the side of LaLavande we effectively shut down the canal.  But it was (as the French would say) "pas grave"…thanks to the wonderful genius that French mechanics have: the ability to improvise and patch things together.  Within an hour they had the lock working again.  And to show that there were no hard feelings, the official who came to make out the accident report had only one request of us: he wanted a picture of him with Luca. Luca to the rescue!!

          When we were first starting on the canals a friend sagely cautioned us: "You are only as good as your last lock."  How true, how true.

           Exiting the interminable canal we turned west onto the Canal Lateral a La Marne and were heading for Paris. But first there was a great three day stop at Chalons en Champagne…a delightful provincial capital and as so typical of  these cities there was a music festival going on…free concerts on the squares at night. And best of all for Suzanne and Luca there was a superb walk/run through a great park to the banks of the Marne.

          And then it was finally our exit from the canal system and onto the rivers themselves.  We had been paralleling the Marne since it's origin  way back near where we left the Saone. Now it was on to the Marne. We will now be on the Marne all the way to Paris, where it joins up with the Seine on its way to the sea.

          Barging on the river is a different driving experience…. it is so much wider…a relaxed steering experience. On the other hand you have a relatively fast current running (in this case with us as we head downstream). And to control the river there are "barrages" or "weirs" (like waterfalls) which are to be avoided at all costs (who wants to sail over a small Niagara). Next to each barrage there is a lock , which mercifully is much larger than the canal locks, but entry and exit becomes stressful as the current pushes you around.  However, the barrages are few and far between so. . there is plenty of time opportunity to just enjoy the scenery.

           The Marne is a lovely river, running through low rolling hills that are blanketed with vineyards so neatly arranged in rows that look like someone had run a comb over the shrubs.  The vines thrive in pebbly, chalky soil on south facing slopes and so home owners with back yards sloping to the south have them planted with valuable chardonnay or pinot noire rather than something worthless, like tomatoes.

          The champagne business is divided between the "biggies" like Moet & Chandon, Tattinger, Bollinger, etc….and the more than 300 small producers.  Driving through the small towns of Champagne you begin to feel that everybody with a garage big enough is making and selling champagne. So, the real name of the game in buying champagne is to avoid the expensive big names and find those small ones who are making great wines. (57% of  Champagne is consumed in France but  80% of that is from  small producers, wherein the US 80% is purchased from the  top names.)

            When we left the canal we pulled into the small city of  Epernay, which is, along with Reims, the heart of the champagne "industry".  With a population of only 30,000 it produces nearly as much champagne as Reims, which is five times larger.  Champagne is aged in caves and under the town of Epernay, carved  through the chalk soil,  there are more than 60 miles of tunnels 65 to 100 feet beneath your feet where millions, yes, millions, of bottles of champagne are aging. Most of the big houses have tours of the caves and in one, Mercier, they have guided tours on small trains running through the caves.

          Champagne seems to permeate the whole town. For instance, we celebrated our anniversary (we remembered it this year) at a "one star" restaurant and the wine list started with eleven pages of champagnes and followed with just four pages of all other types of wine. In nearby Dormans (another smaller town) as we were touring a very ugly war memorial we made the acquaintance of  the owner of a small, chic bar who happened to love Boxers (another victory for Luca) who invited us to his bar for…guess what?... "a glass of champagne!"

          We solved the problem of finding the "good" independent brands by locating a classy champagne bar in the middle of Epernay that  had a cave with the champagnes of forty independent producers (for sale at "producers prices")…and you could sample some of the wines at the bar. So, cases of champagne are now beginning to crowd out the small "cave" behind Suzanne's closet on LaLavande.

          Another caustic comment on Epernay…it has some of the ugliest architecture in France…including the ghastly tower (right behind our mooring spot) of one of the champagne houses. But don't blame it all on Epernay…over the course of history the town has been destroyed at least 25 times….the last being  in 1916.  Nevertheless it does seem that in Northern France after they built the cathedral at Reims is was all downhill, architecturally.

          But it is all not flowers and vines in the Marne valley…as you cruise along you cannot help but be reminded that this was the battleground, throughout history, of some very bloody fighting. It was especially memorable for Suzanne who recalled that her father had  fought and was wounded in these very battle fields in 1918. 

          Just to the east is Verdun!  It was a tremendously moving experience to visit this battle ground, where in a 300 day struggle, starting in 1916, 135,000 French soldiers (and an almost equal number of Germans) were slaughtered…and for us to realize today what a useless butchery it was. Visiting the area now you can still see miles of ground cratered with the shell holes of the artillery, fields of 15,000 graves and a mammoth ossuary with the bones of the unidentified.

                    And as I sit here writing this in the middle of Chateau-Thierry (a pleasant, non-descript town) I look across at a large memorial to the American soldiers of the 3rd Infantry Division and up on the hill is large monument to the Americans who died here. 

When you live in a three bedroom apartment in a fixed location, like an apartment house, you can think in fixed, linear terms.  But when you live in a three bedroom apartment that is in actuality a floating barge you have to be a bit more flexible…or, as they say, "Go with the flow!"

            And that's what finds us now sitting at a mooring at Chaumont, the Prefectural capital of the Department of Haute-Marne (go look that one up in your Funk & Wagnals!)  This is not where we intended to be but Hell and High Water (well, maybe not the Hell part) got us here.

            Go back a bit. In the last blog we were sitting in Dole and the plan was that after we got back to St. Jean de Losne and filled up with fuel and water (by the way, La Lavande holds 5 tons of each of those…which is 5,000 liters) we were to go up the Saone and make our way to Nancy, which as you all know, is somewhat over near the western border of France.

            The Saone is normally a placid river, but it had been raining for weeks and the downpours continued, seemingly unabated.  By the time we got to our first stopping place the water was flowing fast and rising.  We managed to attach to the bank under some trees and soon we were surrounded by a moat of water.  Local advice told us that the river was expected to rise about two feet, flood gates were being closed up stream and there was some canal damage further on up. 

            This called for a change of plans.  We would forgo Nancy for this year (there's always next year) and instead turn left and take a convenient canal straight north. One of the reasons is that on canals the lock gates control the flow of water, and so as long as  they don't run out of water, as long as the banks don't collapse (like the canal to Roanne), and as long as the lock gates keep working the choice of a canal is a smart move.  Of course the sun came out two days later, but by then we were long gone.

            Luck would have it that the entrance to the Canal de la Marne a la Saone was just two kilometers upstream from us.  This canal has just been renamed Le Canal Entre Champagne & Bourgogne.  It is the direct connection between the vineyards of the region of Champagne and the region of Burgundy (what a mouth watering thought for a wino).  It is 224 kilometers long with 114 locks and two tunnels.  For most of its length it meanders along with the Marne River, which starts at a spring near the south end of the canal and grows from a rivulet to a stream to a river as it goes north and eventually becomes our route into Paris.

            Before starting out we were cautioned to make sure we had all the provisions we would need for some time since there was nothing much along the canal but countryside. And how right they were, for most of the canal you go through lush farm country and woods.  One section went through a large wheat growing area, where they were busy harvesting. And then we came to the dairy area (a perfect impression of the dairy area: we were in a lock that had a small bridge across the end of it. As we were about to go through a herd of thirty cows came sauntering overhead followed by a heel-nipping sheep dog. We could have almost reached up and had fresh milk.)

            One other feature is that for most of the canal we were in a communications "black hole." We seldom had any connection to the internet, often we didn't even have a decent cell phone connection, and when we were deeply in among the trees we could not get satellite access for our television dish. You folks back home, with continual web connections, cannot realize the joy there is in finally getting a good connection to the net.

            No doubt about it, we were deep in the heart of rural France…France Profond.

            But there is virtue to be found in everything, and the virtue to this canal is that with no interesting cities or tourist attractions there is not much canal traffic.  On a typical day we might pass one or maybe two boats, and in 10 days we only crossed wakes with three commercial freight barges.  With  no charter boat operations on this canal we did not have to contend with the Tupperware Fleet (most of the small charter boats are plastic, hence the appellation.).

            The canal did have its very interesting features…like a 3 mile long tunnel that was just a bit wider than LaLavande. With clenched fists Suzanne did a magnificent job of steering boat through the whole length, while I just sat back and contemplated the light at the end of the tunnel.

            Another thing in its favor: Through one long stretch of the canal you traveled with your own personal lock-keeper.  For a stretch of about 10 locks they open the locks for us, close them after we leave, hop on their motor scooters and race ahead to the next lock to have it all ready for us when we arrive.  They'll even detour into town and pick up a baguette for us and one of them even joined us for lunch (the locks are supposed to close from noon till 1:30 for lunch).

            But in France there are always wonderful surprises around the corner.  In the small town of St. Seine sur Vingeanne we noticed  there was a historic chateau. So we unlimbered the bikes and went four kilometers and found Chateau de Roziere. Here was a genuine 13th century fortified chateau where a young family lived and operated a B&B.  Much of the building seemed to be in almost original condition…the enormous bedrooms were as you would imagine them to be in the 13th century, the stairways were winding stone climbs, the fireplaces were huge…however the bathrooms were very modern. You can come to France and stay in chateaux that are decorated to the eyeballs (and we have stayed in many of them and loved the experience), but if you ever wanted to taste what it might have been like in the 13th century come to Roziere (but bring a good book to read, because there is nothing around here but the farm land the chateau was originally built to defend.) Take a look at www.chateauderosieres.com.

            Let me close with a kind word for the warmth and courtesy of the French people out here away from the crowded big cities.  Time and again we would be surprised with courtesies extended to us, like the time we were biking through St. Seine (to Roziers) and the chain jumped the sprockets on my bike.  As we were struggling with fixing it a young housewife came out of her house and without our asking she plunged right in to the repair, getting grease all over her hands and when it was all fixed she invited us into her kitchen to wash up with profusions of thanks all around.

            But in Chaumont we experienced the best!  We took the bus up town, which was about two kilometers away up a steep hill, to look for a new umbrella for the "terrace".  By the time we bought one the afternoon drizzle turned into a thunderstorm and there we were with an eight foot long carton, no taxis and no buses. We were cowering from the rain in the doorway of  the city hall wondering what to do next. Suzanne went into the City Hall and at a reception desk told our problem to two young people. When they called and found that no taxis would be available for another two hours the young man at the desk volunteered to walk six blocks in the rain to get his car, pick us up, and drive us back to the boat.  He did not expect any payment and was very surprised when we pressed a small reward on him.                         So, to all you Francophobes we say…"rubbish" 

Smack-dab in the middle of Paris, between the River Seine and Place Bastille,

there is a pleasure boat port called Arsenal.

            We stumbled across it about 13 years ago.  As we perambulated the quay admiring the boats and barges we met a Texas couple (more about them later) living aboard a neat looking Dutch-built barge. They invited us aboard and that was our introduction to barging-life.

            Since that time, lurking in the recesses of our minds, was the thought that it might be just dandy someday to live on a barge in the middle of Paris.

            Well, that is about to happen!

            We just got word that our application for a winter berth in Arsenal has been accepted. And this was not an easy thing to get.  Although Arsenal is big enough for 180 boats there is precious little room for barges our size (23 meters…or 75 feet) and these big boat slots are in great demand.  But Suzanne, when she sets her mind to something always manages to make it happen, so her persistence, her charm and her great command of the French language finally won over the port officials and La Lavande has her berth for six months, starting in October.

            We will be in Paris till April, but Suzanne will probably make a two week trip home in November or December for medical and dental checkups and some good Grandma time in Seattle.  Jerry will pop back home in late January to get year end financial stuff in order and get a grip on taxes.

            We are really looking forward to the Paris experience….we've already started thinking about ordering ballet and opera tickets (after all, the Bastille Opera house is just alongside the port…how's that for a neighborhood theatre?)  Of course there will be all the museums, the three-star restaurants, and some serious language courses.  If you want to learn more about our new neighborhood Arsenal you can link to their web site: www.parisportarsenal.assoc.fr.

            But in the meantime we have some serious cruising to do.  Getting into Paris doesn't change much in our cruising plans.  We had been planning to go north to Nancy, then west across to the champagne region and then going on past Paris and back south to Roanne…so, instead, we just stop at Paris. Of course you have to keep in mind that cruising implies that nothing goes wrong, like mechanical breakdowns or canal closings.  An example: The canal going into our home base of Roanne is now closed for at least six weeks because one bank-side collapsed and the canal drained into the Loire River, leaving one boat high and dry in an empty canal and trapping a bunch of boats in the port south of the breach.

            As we said once, it isn't about the passage, it's about the pauses.  And our pauses lately have been of the tree-hugging kind.  At St. Jean de Losne we tied to the trees along the banks of the Saone River and right now we are in Dole once more tied to the trees along the canal. It's a comfortable way of settling in in France and as we spend more time here we feel that being in France is no longer an exotic experience, but just a plain enjoyable experience.

            As we made our way to Dole our guests (Dick and Jeannie Carr) took some neat photos…a great portrait of Luca and an interesting shot that gives the sense of what it feels like coming into a lock.  

            Oh yes…getting back to the Texas couple of 13 years ago…fast forward 11 years to when we found "Texas Bill" again...there they were in the port of Roanne…they remembered us, as we did them, and the friendship renewed.  However, after 16 years on the canals they were in the process of selling the barge and moving back to the States to the Grandkids and a motor home.  And so it goes!

Stay tuned.