Metz and Moselle

June, 13th 2009 (Tony).

Metz is a gem. Notwithstanding that France is the most popular tourist destination in the world and despite all that we have read about places before we get there, Metz, "City of Light," came as a complete surprise. This city is gorgeous and worthy of its distinction as winner of the European Floral First Prize with extensive botanic gardens and parks. Brimming with young people — it has a large university — and three thousand years of history, it proudly displays an eclectic mixture of striking architectural forms. Lorraine was ceded to Germany in 1870 after Napolean III's debacle (known as the Franco-Prussian War). It was thus spared from damage in WWI and was returned to France under the terms of the Treaty of Versailles. Metz bore the brunt of some heavy shelling in September 1944 when Gen Walker's 20th Corps, part of Patton's 3rd Army, forced the Germans out of town, again. The city has retained some splendid relics of its German period of governance including the portentious railway station and Governor's residence, and 'fairy-floss' protestant church which stands in defiance of the prominent catholic cathedral (built 1200 - 1500). It takes something special to get me to venture inside a cathedral any more, having seen a few in our travels, but St Etienne's has the highest nave in all France (42 m) and 6,500 sq m of stained glass, including a number of stunning windows created by Chagall. Chartres is nothing compared to this! And the whole building is in remarkably sound condition — a must see! If I ever mention another cathedral, believe me, it will have to be good.

After the near-disaster with the gas rupture, we set off down the Moselle from Epinal and paused for several days at Charmes where we rode our bikes to the top of a hill overlooking most of Lorraine. A large monument to commemorate General Castelnau's forces' successful resistance to the German invasion in August, 1914, albeit brief, dominates the summit. His temporary triumph here caused the enemy to concentrate their attention on Verdun, almost visible, slightly further west. Charmes has a delightful mooring place, marred only by about a hundred motorhomes parked adjacent to the quay. Presumably there must have been a rally of some kind for so many to be gathered in the one place. We were joined at Charmes by Allan and Bev, 70's friends from Christchurch, NZ. It was great to catch up on news and reminisce over the fun times we had at the tennis club. They spent several days aboard as we gently (I almost said quietly, but that wouldn't be accurate) cruised on downstream to Toul.

Toul was largely disappointing. Somehow it didn't live up to expectations, the cathedral for all its intricate design and ornate stonework is in a dilapidated state and the town centre seemed to lack any liveliness or character. Vauban's fortified star-shaped ramparts enclosing the old town are admirable and we enjoyed a cycle ride around them. How many man-hours went into building such places? They must have presented a daunting image to would-be invaders. The water in the port was crystal clear but full of weed. Our English neighbour dragged out about half a ton of it with a grappling hook. I am not sure if the authorities would have appreciated his efforts. I rather fancy they would have been dismayed for he left it in stinking piles for them to clean up. Still, better than round our propeller.

After Richardmenil, where we spent a very pleasant evening, the canal splits in two. The right branch, presently closed, leads round to the Canal Marne au Rhin, which we will enter in a couple of weeks on our journey to Strasbourg, whereas the left fork leads directly into the river Moselle. Almost immediately this becomes a major commercial waterway although it meanders serenely through unspoiled, heavily forested countryside. Barges, some as long as 135m and carrying up to 4,500 tonnes of grain, coal, gravel, scrap steel etc abound. It is quite intimidating to be waiting at a lock, only to have the gates open and to be confronted by one of these enormous hulks bearing down on our little tub. Some are so laden and low in the water it is amazing they remain afloat. Because we intend to go down the Moselle and return up the Sarre (their confluence is in Germany and we will be, for a day or two, in Luxembourg) we are unlikely to return to Nancy which is on a canal about midway between the two rivers, in Sable. So we took the train, with Allan and Bev, and spent a day exploring this lovely town. Nancy has a grand town square with elaborate wrought iron gates and wonderful statues, and nearby, beautiful parks and gardens. The roses were an absolute picture. At Allan's encouragement we visited the museum of fine arts and were impressed with the scale and quality of the paintings displayed. There is no shortage of museums and art galleries in France, just choosing which ones to see is a challenge.

We seem to have developed a penchant for climbing hills. Mont St Michel, at Toul, conceals a massive old fort now almost completely overgrown by trees. In its day it must have been a formidable barrier and garrison. There are thousands of similar edifices all over France. The trees, no doubt younger than me, unfortunately obscured what should have been a fine vista. Not so at Mousson. The highest promintory for miles around stands sentinel over Pont a Mousson where in 1944 US troops suffered more than two thousand casualties forcing a bridgehead over the Moselle. After a long, steep climb to the summit, encircled by the ruins of a huge chateau destroyed in the 16th century, one is rewarded by a magnificent panorama of the Moselle from Toul to Metz and beyond. But the real surprise was discovering a very neat and beautiful hamlet nestled beneath the old ruins. We surmised that most of the inhabitants must be retirees as every yard had a vegie garden to die for as well as raspberries, red currants, cherries and other delicious fruit. Most of the houses appear to have been rebuilt since WWII when virtually everything was blasted to smithereens by artillery.

About a week ago the canal between Roanne and Digoin breached, again, almost two years to the day since the last one, leaving a thirteen kilometre section devoid of water. VNF hope to effect repairs by mid-July but we have heard rumours that it may take until September to fix. We feel sorry for the twenty or so boats trapped in the port. Two we know were planning to leave the day after the bank burst into the Loire. Sad state of affairs. Sable and her previous owners were trapped in Roanne for seven weeks in 2007. Since leaving Roanne in March we have had very few wet days, although it has often rained at night. Mostly the weather has been great. Last week however a cold wind, unseasonal I suspect, frustrated our endeavours to venture far into the countryside. The upside to that was to remain indoors and watch hours of French Open Tennis, live. And Pres Obama's visit to Normandy and the D-day 65th commemoration. Hopefully that wind has now blown itself out. Last evening, at 9:30pm we licked ice cream sundaes, in broad daylight, in the town square. Summer is here. Today we expect close to 30°C so a barbeque up on top could be the go with Rotary friends Merv and Glenda fresh off the TGV from Paris.

Canal des Voges

May, 29th 2009 (Sally).

Well here we are 300km north of St Jean de Losne, at the town of Epinal in the area of Lorraine. Our departure from the dry dock at St Jean was not quite as quick as the proverbial champagne cork, but as speedy as one can be at 8kph in a fifty tonne boat. The interest in the workings of a dry dock had paled significantly after four days of inactivity, firstly in waiting for the workmen to return to work and then for one other boat to be finished so as soon as we were out on Tuesday morning it was non-stop north. The Saône travels from the Voges 400kms to meet the Rhône at Lyon and it was the upper reaches that we were on. It is often called the prettiest river in France and we can see why. With a gentle, meandering course it drops very slowly — only 59 metres in the whole of its navigable reach — and is a fisherman's paradise with many people either sitting in boats or in quiet little spots on the banks. A favourite dish of the region is Pochouse, a river fish stew. I tried it at one riverside restaurant, very tasty but lots of bones. The larger towns of Auxonne and Gray were soon left behind and we found ourselves calling at much smaller villages. Ray sur Saône, just a small deviation from the main river was a picture book mooring. Manicured lawns to the water, freshly painted houses, flower boxes all in bloom and all crowned by a well maintained castle. We walked the village, climbed to the castle to enjoy the spectacular view then dined at Chez Yvette, the local restaurant. The meal was très ordinaire. Oh well, you can't expect perfection all the time. For the first time ever we could not find a boulangerie, shock, horror, a situation we thought was unheard of in France but as we proceeded further into the sparsly populated area it was more and more common.

We had one more stop before we reached Port le Saône where we had arranged to meet our good friends Margaret and Peter James who were travelling by car from Germany. They were with us last year after the Somme and had a week of cruising on a very industrial canal so it was a delight to introduce them to the unspoilt scenery of this area. Because of their car we had to do a few hop-steps of catching the car up with the boat but fortunately the tow path was all sealed and Tony did a few miles by bike while we either waited for him or took control of Sable and met him further up. At Corre, a tiny town where the river Saône finally becomes unnavigable and where we transferred to the Canal des Vosges he found of all things in such a small village, a bike shop. 10 or 15 kms a day on the old rattler must have been enough to persuade him it was time to upgrade so now we have a third bike which handles much easier than the old one.

The Canal de Vosges is an interesting waterway, built between 1874 and 1882 after France had lost possession of Alsace Lorraine as they did not want to go through enemy territory. It gave good access to the industrial regions of Toul and Nancy and in its prime carried three million tonnes of freight. One is still able to see the evidence of industry, villages with names like La Manufacture and Forges les Bains but sadly the industry is all gone and all that remains are large derelict buildings and old water mills leaving the waterways for the benefit of the few pleasure craft owners, like ourselves. The villages are slowly dying with shops mentioned in our guide books no longer there and many empty houses. The most obvious was Fontenoy le Chateau. In 1840 there was an embroidery industry there that employed five hundred people. They supplied the Royal houses of Europe and the East but that is long gone and the town is reduced to one small grocer, rows of empty shops and an embroidery museum which unfortunately was closed. So sad as it all sits among the most beautiful stretches of waterways. One cruises in solitude through pristine forests of firs, birches and oaks with only the sound of birdsong and the very occasional passing boat.

Our first night with our friends we moored on a jetty belonging to a riverside resturant and after promising to return for Sunday lunch took off to explore nearby Vesoul, reported to be a town of historic interest. The town was franticly busy, people everywhere and it was only after great difficultly we found a car park and discovered the big attraction was the annual Vide Grenier. The whole block was taken up with private stalls selling their junk, old clothes, old shoes videos, books etc. We returned to the river for a delicious lunch then proceeded upriver to another small village to find it also full of people. Crowds everywhere and as we walked into town it was obvious we were in the middle of another Vide Grenier. Once again stalls full of junk, but this was country junk, old horse harness and tools mainly, and it was certainly attracting the crowds. One would wonder where they all came from as the village itself consisted of only twenty houses.

The climb from the Saône valley to the plateau above is steep, 34 locks in 50kms, all more than 3m deep, a good workout for the upper body, then a 11km stretch across the top before a ladder of 14 locks that takes one down to the Moselle and our pleasant mooring here in Epinal. We had driven here the day before to farewell Margaret and Peter and at the same time made a reservation at the port for Sable so when we were met by an officious looking lady off one of the boats who told us to moor to the far bank, Tony decided to ignore her and take the prime position opening onto the park. All settled in, power attached and the Capitain arrives, off the same boat, "I sent my wife" he says. Woops, slight mistake. Hurried apologies and all is forgiven and we are allowed to stay.

Monday, we made an epic journey back to Roanne and Lyon to finalise our certificates of residency. Left here at 5.00am by train to Nancy, another train to Lyon, change to Roanne then after collecting mail and our certificates a fourth train back to Lyon. Tuesday was a medical which pronounced us healthy enough to stay in France, for a fee that surely fixed all France's problems from the GFC, then another long train trip back to Epinal. About a 1,200 km round trip. Hopefully the effort was all worthwhile, no need for visas in future and we now have a seniors card which gives us a 50% discount on train travel. Lyon, as in our previous visit was a delight. No signs of financial crisis there, shops all full of wonderful fashion and plenty of well laden shoppers. Must be infectious as we came home loaded with several large shopping bags and the man of the boat was heard to mumble, "Get me out of this town before I spend more." Can you believe it?

Epinal, (pop 40,000) is a lovely city and has been a pleasant rest stop for almost a week, though not without its drama. One morning Tony noticed a strong smell of gas emanating from the front hatch and quickly discovered that the (British) gas regulator had literally fallen apart. A very likeable young gas-fitter turned up and soon located in town a regulator, which to all looks and purposes seemed identical to the old one. However he failed to notice that the pressure capacity of the new was less than half that of the old. Consequently, when we test-lit the stove the extreme pressure burst both the tap and the burner, as well as a joint underneath. While the lad dashed back to the bow to stem the flow, Tony was blowing out flames like a 64 year-old puffing out the candles on his birthday cake! Successfully, thank God. After a day's toil the young tradesman has replaced the regulator, fitted a new hob and fixed all the joints, sometimes working in the most excruciating confinement. Typically, there is 1mm difference between the size of copper tubing used in UK and Europe. As there are no manufactured components to marry the two he had to stretch and weld several joints. We expected a bill into four figures, but no, it was their fault so the brand new hob and more than eight hours labour were complimentary. Nice guy! We're thankful we still have a boat! Today we're heading to Charmes. Doesn't that sound pretty?