Bonjour Famille et Amis
This is our second dispatch from our 40 day adventure, covering 13 days in France, including a week on the waters of Burgundy’s Canal lateral a la Loire in a self-driven, 33 foot Flying Bridge Penichette, named BRIARE, which type of boat is modelled on a classic French barge and has inside and outside steering positions. This is not a feat that Team Moffett would do on their own. We were with our Seattle friends, Mike & Karen, with whom we had traveled on the Canal du Midi 5 years ago, Mike serving as the “Captain” with his boating skills.
This segment begins in Prague with another startling alarm ringing on our cell phones at 0-Dark Thirty to catch a Czech Air flight to Nice where we would rent a car and explore the area up to Lyon before our boating venue. As we had only 2 nights in Nice, arriving in mid-morning, giving most of the day to explore this “playground-of-the-rich-and-famous” city, which began with targeting the Antique market. To get there, we strolled along the Promenade des Anglais (scene of the 2016 Bastille Day terrorist attack). We were surprised at the rockiness of the Baie des Anges beach, watching sun bathers, some topless, lying on 2” round rocks and the bare-footed bathers trying to navigate in and out of the waters, grimacing with pain at the effort. Off in the distance and high on the eastern hill we saw what appeared to be a waterfall which we would hike up to later when we noted spiraling stairs upwards to a fortress-like circular structure. While grabbing a quick snack in an outdoor café, we witnessed a crone-like, hooded, distressed-looking and hunched over woman dressed in black, dragging her clubbed feet in awkward positions, holding up a cup. We had no change, but when she circled back we had coinage and were able to donate (out of respect, we took no photo). We positioned ourselves afterwards at a table in the market, where we ordered espressos and watched the show of buyers and browsers, poking around the stalls. The parade of folks included the older, longtime Nice residents, mixed with trendy types….quite the contrast.
To reach the waterfall we climbed the Camin de la Courtina to the Toure Bellanda at the top of Castle Hill, walking around this park-like area, enjoying its shade and coolness against the 86 degree beach temperatures. We tracked down our targeted destination, which we found to be the Cascade de Gairaut waterfall, being fed from the Canal de Gairaut, was built in 1883 bringing the waters of the Vesubie River to Nice. Meandering back into Old Town, walking the narrow rues along the backside of the hill, looking up at multitudes of colored shutters with laundry hanging out to dry. At Place Massena, we participated in a refreshing experience at the Miroir de Eau, a massive tiled area with embedded pipes spewing up 1-7 feet tall fountains of water at various intervals. We shed our footwear and joined in with others.
Leaving Nice in our rental car, we were able to escape the AVIS garage safely with its 6 floors of a very narrow and windy exit, managing our entry on to the wide-open toll roads with only one error! Roundabouts were a different story. At one point we found ourselves on rural roads and we’re not sure how we managed to do so (driver or GPS error?). No matter, this diversion greatly enhanced the drive, where we passed by vineyards, and through small medieval villages like Tavel and Pouzilhac. We stayed 1 night in Uzes, browsing shops in Place Aux Herbes, sitting under an umbrella at Terroirs, dining on charcuterie and drinking Pastis, a digestive, this one being anise-flavored. We were entertained by the activity at the table next to us, a 60+ year old local, talking to himself, gaunt and grizzled, sporting a jaunty taupe-colored beret, with artistic-framed eyeglasses, wearing shorts and a leather vest that opened to show a hairy chest…all this topped off by black oxfords. A woman soon joined him, asking him questions and videoing the event as if making a documentary. The staff later told us this scenario occurs daily. In a way he is a local ‘celebrity’. Made us want to know more about their history. We’ll never know.
Lyon was the drop off point for our car, which we returned unscathed after 550 kilometers, 70 Euros worth of fuel and 45 Euros of toll fees. Our next residence, The Grand Hotel des Terreaux is in that part of Lyon that lies between the Saone and Rhone rivers. Our first dinner was next door at Balomar Pizza, where we were befriended by Elise who gave us their secured Wi-Fi password to deal with an access problem with Bank of America. In return we decided to sit down and dine there and were regaled with the story about her grandfather starting this business decades ago, now owned by her uncle, black and white family photos splashed all over the walls. After dining, we walked along the sidewalk above the Saone, looking down at the concrete and stoned riverside walkway where groups of youths sat in circles, drinking and talking excitedly on a Thursday night. Across the Saone and on the hill, the Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourviere was lit up in splendor. We finally returned to our 11th century hotel that had been built over a swamp where decapitated bodies were buried, ending up as feeding for pigs...we only stay in the best places when we travel!
On our walk the 1st morning there, at Place Terreaux, we encountered the 21 ton Fontaine Bartholdi, which depicts France as a female seated on a chariot controlling the four great rivers of France, represented by wildly rearing and plunging horses. Having seen the lit up Basilique the night before, we crossed the Saone at Pont La Feuillee to Vieux Lyon (Old Town) and climbed the 580 stairs to the hill crest where this religious icon stands, then walking to the Cimetiere de Loyasse, meeting an English-speaking Frenchman from Lille, sharing time on the zig zag path down into the bowels of Old Town. Our time in Lyon was short but sweet. Next was a 3 part “train” ride (1 train, 2 Auto Buses) to our put-in spot for the Canal adventure which gave us some beautiful views of the countryside, e.g., fields of withered corn stalks, small villages with weather-worn tiled roofs, sheep and cows grazing on the hillsides, stone houses draped with ivy. When our last bus pulled into the Dompierre-Sur-Besbre train station, Mike and Karen were sitting on the steps awaiting our arrival. Thus began the weeklong travel on the 180 year old Canal Lateral a La Loire travel through 33 mechanical locks (ecluses) and a number of quaint towns and villages. This canal was constructed between 1827 and 1838.
We started out at 4:30 p.m. the day we arrived, after signing papers and getting an orientation. We received an early warning about the height of some of the bridges we would be going under while piloting from the bridge. Not many meters into our transfer to the canal, we had to duck our heads to avoid contact (decapitation)! Our days would need to be carefully planned as the ecluses were only manned 9:00 a.m. to noon and 1:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m. We fell short of our anchorage goal for that night, ending up near the village of Paray-Le-Fresil, mooring along the canal bank, ascending the embankment to cross the bridge that would take us into “town” and a meal. Unfortunately there was a fork in the road and we chose the wrong one, 15 minutes later seeing headlights on the other fork. It was now dusk and, thinking we could save time by crossing a bunch of dirt, we started trudging only to be ‘busted’ when we connected with the other road where some locals asked us why we were in their neighbor’s potato field. When we explained, they broke out laughing, connecting us to the strange moored boat by the bridge. They told us there was nothing in town, but they would check if a local pizza place was open and return with information. It turned out to be closed, so we had to settle with some of the supplies we had purchased in town before starting out.
We had time to plan ahead about these locks, which were different than on Canal du Midi. Lateral locks are hand operated, ratcheting cranks clockwise to close and open locks. We would find out later they would ask if we were continuing on, and if so, they would either call ahead or drive to the next ecluse to perform the operation. Some of the best moments were when Maggie and I were allowed to assist in these operations, sometimes to expedite getting through the lock, as the operator would have less walking to do, moving from one side of the lock to the other. The Ecluse Keepers did these cranking one-armed, so it was important to imitate that (machoism), which we were not 100% good at doing.
The maps we were using had symbols to indicate where restaurants and other key attractions/ facilities were (it did not work for us in Potato-Ville) and we were curious about what appeared to be a castle, so we staked the BRIARE on an embankment near L’Huilerie and walked around looking for it and it turned out to be a lodging, Logis des Michaud’s, where we wandered in and asked for a bit of salt (something we had forgotten to purchase for the boat) from the proprietors, who gave us a small yogurt-sized glass jar filled with 1 month worth of salt and would take no money…the beauty of small town graciousness and pride!
On our way to Fleury-Sur-Loire, we experienced a traumatic event, witnessing a baby deer near us struggling in the water, madly trying to get up on the bank, its mother having done so and our hearts were sinking with the knowledge we could not interfere, looking back and wondering…More excitement was to come that night at the small eatery 30 yards from our boat moorage, sitting under a canvas and plastic tent that became battered when a huge rainstorm had the sides blowing inwards and rattling noisily. To add insult to injury, it was by far the worst food we had in France! Never a dull moment and we were only a couple of days into this trip! We made a food run into Fleury the next morning to the local boulangerie, wandering around the church with its monuments to the fallen sons of this village in both WWI and WWII, taking some photos of a picturesque shuttered and abandoned home wrapped in ivy and wild roses. We brought our food purchases back where we would have our breakfasts on the bridge, consisting of Croque Monsieur Sandwiches, fruit and coffee. Coming up would be one of the deepest locks, at almost 4 meters (13 feet), and a unique experience in crossing over the Allier River, cruising on a single lane aqueduct-like bridge. Later in the week, we would do this once more, over the Loire River to which the Allier is connected. Arriving at Beffes for the night with a full moon, we had the full monty: electricity, water to replenish our hold and most importantly, community showers (a respite from the boat bathrooms/shower set up).
My main role for the ecluses was to jump off the boat and loop the bow and stern lines around the bollards, throwing the balance of the ropes back up to Maggie and Karen. However, on our 3rd full day, after waiting for 1 hour for Herry Ecluse to open for the afternoon, we were making an attempt to land me in some shoreline vegetation to climb up to the path from which I would walk to the locks and be at the ready. Things didn’t quite work out as we would have liked. A sudden increase in the wind moved the boat away from the bank and I ended up stretched out, with my feet in the water, submerging with the weight of soaked jeans, my zipped up down vest fully soggy…only my head above the dirty murky canal water, everybody trying to pull me up. Maggie’s memory is that, as she tried to grab me by my belt to hoist me up, she discovered this doesn’t work so well when that belt is elastic! I have to admit, it took me back to snorkeling in the Silfra Fissure in Iceland. The possibility of drowning did occur to me, as did a really cool obituary piece! Finally the life ring was around me and I was dragged to safety, humbled by my ineptness in this situation and total dependency on the rest of the crew. My heroes!
That night, we would tie up for 2 nights in Menetreol-Sous-Sancerre, since there was so much to see and it was restful to be off the canal. This is a big wine-producing area and we wandered around town, up into the hills rife with vineyards, coming across a 19th century Viaduc railway connection between Cosne-Sur-Loire and Bourges via Sancerre. A visit to the 12th century L’Eglise Saint Hilaire church ensued and then back to our moorage a few meters away from a local restaurant, Le Florine, where we would secure the key for our electricity and make payment for our space to the lovely older couple, whose place was a community gathering spot, adorned with every kind of hat (chapeau) hanging on the walls. Our next morning we took off to walk the 1,000 feet to the top of the hill where Sancerre proper lay, via a winding roadway, taking time to watch a man-driven grape collecting machine, methodically going through the vineyards, row by row, watching low hanging clumps being devoured. At the top the narrow cobbled lanes were marked with red paint to show the path to various wine venues. Our 1st stop was at Le Logis du Seigneur d’ Herry, a 12th century edifice with a 15th century turret, where tastings consisted of automated pours (8 for 12 Euros)! Lunch was taken at an outdoor venue on this warm and sunny day, which was perfect, given how cold and windy the canal had been, with 40 degree mornings, feeling like 35! We gave ourselves a break from each other for the afternoon, Maggie and I ending up sitting at an outdoor venue with a panoramic view of the vineyards from a perspective 1,000 feet up. Back to our vessel by 3:30 p.m. and started cleaning up before we took off the next morning, crossing the bridge to the other side of the canal where we disposed of our recyclables in large depositories.
The big deal all week was to get to a morning market and going south to north on the canal did not jive with existing schedules except for one: Thursday Market at St. Thibault, which was the morning we left Sancerre. We found the market, after walking along the banks of the Entranchement off the Canal, where we moored and which was laden with large tramp-steamer looking scows, many appearing to be ‘live-aboards’, strewn with bicycles, old machinery, cooking hardware and rusty equipment. In Centre Ville at Place de la Republique, the market was lively at 10 a.m., with clothing products on display, purses, food, e.g., oysters, chickens, beef, sausage, crawfish, crepes, apples cheeses. We bought lasagna, potatoes, roasted chicken and goat cheese for our evening meal. Large buses deftly maneuvered the narrow one-way street in front of the market, along with ancient Citroens driven by the ancient denizens of this burg. Back on boat, and heading toward Beaulieu, our next berth, we would pass by signs of wealth generated by jobs at the local nuclear facility, with its white plumes in the distance, reflected in well-kempt homes and nicely manicured hedges on properties abutting the canal.
Our grand finale was visiting the lovely, quaint and quintessentially medieval village of Chatillon Sur Loire, probably my favorite on the canal, where we had a palette of different experiences: The image of the author Robert Louis Stevenson (RLS) painted on the street-side of a building, with a girl painted on the abutting side with her finger to her lips, suggesting “Do not let RLS know I am sneaking up on him”; the Eglise Diocese D’ Orleans, a beautiful Catholic Church, lighting candles for the health and welfare of friends and family members in distress (including ourselves), impressed by the names and dates of the many church leaders spanning 950 A.D to 2008, as well as those who died as a result of WWI (1914-1918…some 200 names for this small town (population today of 3,000); the ruins of the 12 century Chateau Gaillard, the 1st Protestant church built in France, still splendorous in its demise. Our voyage was ending this day, as we pulled in to Briare (namesake of our vessel) and we would overnight on it, the 4 of us flying to Paris the next morning for a night there before we would all fly to the Greek island of Santorini, during which time Maggie and I would celebrate our 43rd wedding anniversary.
Cheers, Stan & Maggie