Canal du Centre

22nd October, 2009 (Tony)

The Canal du Centre has many delightful stopping places. As well as being a pleasant port, Fragnes has a popular restaurant run by a young couple who spent a number of years in Scotland before returning to France to set up their own business. The restaurant's decor is bright and refreshingly modern and the food is exquisite but the most compelling attraction is to engage the chef and the waitress/maitre'd in conversation. Listening to husband and wife speaking English with French-Scottish accents is most amusing. On the Saturday there was not a spare chair for either lunch or dinner but for Sunday lunch they had nary a booking. "C'est la vie," says she. Who would want to be a restaurateur? From Fragnes we went for a spin on the motorbikes up into the hills and vales of Côte Chalonnaise. Pretty country and apart from getting lost it was a rewarding journey for I discovered the most palatable Pinot-Noir I've yet tasted — a Mercurey, a tiny appellation near Givry. Reasonable too. Nonetheless my favourite French wine remains Gigondas, a syrah, grenache blend from a tiny appellation in the Rhône Valley not far from Chateauneuf du Pape.

Santenay, of course, is surrounded by fine Burgundy vineyards and thus a trip into the countryside and surrounding hills is an absolute must. We were joined there by Peter, a friend of grandson Sam, taking a year's break before starting university in Sydney next February and bravely cycling, on his own, a veritable Tour de France. He had already completed a four month circumnavigation of UK. We all took advantage of a glorious sunny day to venture far into the landscape, Peter on his bike, us on motorbikes. We took different routes but explored similar features: a mountain top panorama, a stop in the picturesque village of Nolay, a picnic in the country, a visit to the magnificent chateau la Rochepot, and a meander through vineyards to Mersault and back to Santenay, about sixty kilometres. Peter normally rides more than 100 km each day so to him it was a 'day off.' He accompanied us next day on the cruise down to St Leger sur Dheune where another favourite restaurant beckoned for dinner. Le Petit Kir is owned by an English woman. Some years ago she backpacked to Australia and has been to more places than most Aussies. Returning to Europe she was working as a stewardess on a hotel barge when it passed through St Leger and she spied a derelict building in the town centre, right beside the canal. She immediately imagined the possibilities, jumped ship, and after overcoming the almost insurmountable red tape over planning permission, food and liquor licensing, and local authority regulations, not to mention the animosity of the locals, she eventually established a stylish restaurant and hired a chef to prepare dishes that really would be difficult to emulate at home. Nowadays that's our benchmark. We're so over restaurants where the food, whilst good, is no better than Sally can cook. One positive however has been Sarkozy's stimulus to overcome the GFC by reducing the (GST) tax on restaurant and café meals from the normal 19.6% to 5.5%. It has certainly kept the patronage of restaurants and cafés up, whereas many shops seem deserted.

Génelard has a nice port and a superb museum dedicated to all things relating to the demarcation line that split France during the occupation in WWII. A very sombre and thought provoking place that brings to light many dark deeds perpetrated by the Nazis and numerous brave measures undertaken by resistance fighters as well as highlighting the struggles of citizens whose everyday existence was thrown into turmoil by the slash of a line across the map of France. A two hour visit cannot do it justice but is as much as one can absorb.

Montceau les Mines and Paray le Monial are also fascinating towns. Every stopping place on this canal is worth more than a cursory overnight rest. Truth is, once you've realised you are on the way home you just feel you want to get there. At Paray, we woke in the morning to the first frost. That's enough to make you want to get the hell out of here. And just like that, the indian-summer ended and suddenly it is autumn, practically winter. Surprisingly, the trees have yet to flush into striking autumn colours. Compared to photos taken at the same time last year the trees are still very green. That hasn't prevented the wind, howling down from somewhere near the North Pole, from stripping many of their leaves. For the past week we have barely ventured outdoors except for essential shopping. Other friends of Sam, Ariane and Sophie, both from Sydney and like Peter have deferred for a year the start of their university courses to travel extensively around Europe, came aboard at Paray and cruised with us for several days to Roanne. For three nights we played Mexican Train and cards almost 'til midnight. They left on Saturday morning at 6am with a heavy frost on the ground to walk to the station to catch a train to Lyon, thence Nice, Barcelona and London before departing for Aus in mid-November. As it was Sally's turn to fetch the bread and croissants she walked with them as far as the centre of town. She was none to pleased, especially knowing I had cuddled back into bed as soon as I had bade the girls farewell.

Since mooring up in Roanne we have been caught up in a continuous round of socialising, meeting new arrivals and greeting old acquaintances, wining and dining, as one does... A final week to check that everything is secure and ready for winter. We are looking forward to getting on the plane and flying back into the arms of family and friends in Australia, measuring up our grandchildren and catching up on their many and varied exploits; and walking barefoot in the sand along our beautiful beach.

This will be our last epistle until we return in April to resume our adventures. Where we'll go next year has yet to be determined but as the Tour de France, 2010, passes through Champagne there's a very strong likelihood that we'll be there to see it; and to enjoy more of that delicious nectar that the region so prolifically  produces. Sally and I extend our best wishes to you and your loved ones for a joyous Christmas and a happy and healthy 2010.

Homeward Bound

5th October, 2009 (Sally)

It was with a certain sadness that we turned south and started our final leg of this years travels, and just to make things harder for us the Saône looked spectacular with the first faint shades of autumn starting to appear in the trees that line the banks. Fishing must be one of the most popular pastimes in France and it is rare that we do not see some one sitting on the sides of the canals with oversized rods, fold-out tackle boxes which become comfortable chairs, keep-nets in the water and most amusingly, rubber aprons to protect their clothes. Saturday was fine and warm so the banks were lined with men, it is very seriously a man's sport, and many had set up little camps with tents and tables, it was going to be an all day affair.

After a night at Seurre, always a favourite spot as it was here that we first saw, fell in love with and purchased Sable two years ago, and another at Verdun sur le Doubs we finally turned off the Saône and are now moored at Fragnes for three nights. It is not a rushed trip by any means unless this wonderful Indian summer decides to desert us.

While I was in Rome Tony did take his motorbike through the vineyards and to his surprise found the vendange was completely over. Such a change from last year when on practically the same date we did the tour the day before it started. A very early harvest this year, as a result of the very hot summer and all picked within ten days. Amazing. He also managed to finish all the painting while I was away. What a hero, so Sable with her new coat of blue, freshly painted decks and new name plates is looking very smart.

Rome was a wonderful week for me. The overnight train trip was less than memorable. French trains are noteworthy for their cleanliness and punctuality. I am afraid the same can not be said for the Italian ones. I was meeting Myra and her sister-in-law Wendy at 3.00pm so after finding the hotel I did a quick walk through the local neighbourhood and found the Forum and Colosseum only five blocks away. I walked to the top of Capital Hill, admired Michelangelo's statues, gazed in wonder over the Forum and photographed the Colosseum before making my way back to the station to meet them off their train from Salerno. Back to the hotel and they were ready to go, where, of course, you've guessed it, back to the Forum, Colosseum, Capital Hill etc. So that was day one, a very thorough look at the main sights. Day two, Myra had booked a tour of the Vatican Museum so after braving the morning rush on the Metro we were able to bypass the 500 metre queue at the museum gates and be taken by our very informative and friendly guide to some wonderful exhibits. With 2,000 rooms of treasures it would be crazy to see too much but after three hours we felt we had done very well. She gave us a very good ovesight of the Sistine Chapel before we went in and that was excellent as it would have to be one of the most popular, and the most crowded places I have ever been in. The ceiling was cleaned between 1980 and 1993, [that is four times longer than it took to paint] at a cost of 100million euros, and is now protected by a very efficent air conditioning unit. Kept at a constant temperature with the removal of 900 litres of water a day. Seems an unbelievable figure until one sees the crowds that go through. They have left a small portion in one corner uncleaned, one can hardly see the figures in this part through the grime and soot stains from the millions of candles that were burned there over the 500 years. It was Japanese money that paid for the restoration and in return they have the copyright on all Sistine Chapel merchandise. As a result there are no photo's allowed inside the chapel, with a host of guides to enforce the ruling and to keep the crowds moving. The constant hollers of "No Photos" completely destroys any reverent feeling one may have.

From there it was into St Peters and then the climb to the top of the dome for the memorable view over the square and the vatican gardens. If that sounds like a lot to do in one day, you are right, but day three, four and five were no easier. We walked everywhere, through streets that were designed for chariots, dodging businessmen on motorbikes and discovering hidden corners, plazas with fountains and statues and everywhere a constant stream of tourists. What is Rome like in the height of the tourist season or is there no such thing? Highlights? The Colosseum, no photo can ever do justice to its size, the expanse of the Forum, Michelangelo's statue of Moses that he designed for the tomb of Pope Julius, the Pantheon, built in 27BC, consecrated as a Christian Church in 600AD and still in use today, the Sistine Chapel and the art works in the Vatican Museum but the wonderful Bellini sculptures in the Villa Borghese stand out. It was a wonderful chance to see it all and to have some family time too, but as always nice to be back to the more gentle life style on Sable where the sightseeing is limited to a patisserie or chocolaterie and a walk to the boulangarie is the main excercise of the day.

We stopped again at St Jean de Losne after leaving Dijon and as well as having the motor and heating system serviced, met up with quite a few fellow travellers. The New Zealanders are well represented on the canals and we entertained two couples from Auckland on board for a Happy Hour. They left, we ate and were just settling down for the night when an enoumous hotel barge, at least 80 metres in length, arrived and moored almost on top of us. We stepped outside to view and as it approached closer and closer thought this is getting a little tight. With that one of the crew yelled out to us to move our boat. We asked where to, considering it was after 9.00pm, pitch dark and there were no spaces left on the quay. We don't care they said, just move. Bearing in mind we were legally moored, we demurred. By this time we had collected an audience of interested boaties and the conversation was getting a little heated, with one of the crew threatening to call the police. We passified them by rafting off the Kiwi boat in front of us, and in the morning recieved an apologetic visit from the captain. Ruffled feathers were smoothed, but even he admitted that there was no sign declaring "no mooring" for private vessels, or to say they had priority. Just another reason to get back into our friendly canals with room for all. Our next stop will be at Santenay, shady trees and a cute village surrounded by fine Burgundy vineyards. Should be a good reason to take the motorbikes for our last ride of the season.

Canal du Centre

26th April 2009 [Sally]

Two weeks of glorious spring weather and we have seen the trees change from bare stalks to a fine mist of green and they are now all in full leaf. The change from winter to spring is a delight to all but for us who are unused to seasonal changes it is even more so. In the month of cruising we have seen the primula, blossom, forsythia and tiny violets on the banks give way to displays of iris, peony and great swatches of wisteria clinging to walls. The crops are also responding and on either side we see the green of winter wheat and yellow canola that is bright enough to hurt one’s eyes. The absence of water fowl has been marked, save for the occasional male duck. All the mums must be nesting so we expect that in the next few days we will see a plethora of newly hatched ducklings to take up the surplus bread we accumulate on board.

Our time on the Canal du Centre was very leisurely; we reached Montchanin at the very top of the canal in time to meet up with our first visitors of the season. Kristy our eldest granddaughter and her friend Cameron arrived by train from Paris. They had had a frantic two days in Dubai and the same in Paris so the very sedate form of travel with us was a welcome change. We cruised down through lovely countryside to St Léger d’Heune where we dined at a restaurant we had frequented before. It is run by a young English girl who saw a derelict bar from the deck of a hotel barge she was working on, thought it had possibilities and now six years later she is the owner of a good little business. France must be full of such possibilities but unfortunately the French seem not to see them. The next day we arrived at Santenay, the beginning of the Burgundy vineyards where we gave our visitors a walking tour of the town and then loaded them on the motorbikes and sent them off through the vines. That has got to be one of the best ways to appreciate it all as you are so close to all the action- and there is always some activity. The vines have been pruned over winter to one shoot and at the moment this is being clipped to the support wire. It is slow back-breaking work, just one of the many days of labour that goes into every bottle of wine.

On Friday we took a ten-minute train ride to Beaune. To young people from the Gold Coast where nothing is more than 30 years old a town as ancient as Beaune is such an eye opener, and nothing more so than the Hospices de Beaune. Built in 1443 as a Hospice for the poor it still stands today as a jewel of medieval architecture with its ward room with the beds all made, chapel, pharmacy, and kitchen all sited around a wonderful courtyard. The original donor spared no expense in setting it up and there are several masterpieces of art but the one that stops you in wonder is a 15th century polyptych, 9 panels depicting the final judgement. A wonderful piece of work and an even bigger wonder that it has survived. It was found abandoned in an attic at one stage and in a crazy act of censorship clothes were painted on the naked figures. The Hospice continues to receive a substantial bequest from the original donor, as he also gave them 29 hectares of vines and the proceeds of these are auctioned off in November of each year. One of the biggest events of the year. After lunch Kristy and Cameron went off on a tasting tour of Burgundy’s finest while we meandered around the old streets. Beaune was occupied during WWII and as it was such an important railhead the Frenchv expected fierce resistance when they tried to take it back. On Sept 7th 1944 the Free French surrounded the town and on the morning of the 8th woke to find the Germans had departed so Beaune was liberated without a shot fired. It was then a race to contact the Americans as it had been arranged that they would provide bombing support. Fortunately that was cancelled in time so nothing of the town was lost. Next day we sadly said goodbye to our visitors and put them on the train to Strasbourg, then to Frankfurt and Amsterdam, while we continued our very slow pace.

Next stop Fragnes, about twenty houses, no shops but a wonderful new quay complete with electricity and a very nice restaurant all for 6€  a night. It was such a pleasant place to moor we ended up staying for four days. Quite an assortment of fellow travellers, some Scots, British, and fellow Australians so we socialized, swapped travelling stories and shared an occasional glass of wine in the evenings while waiting for the sun to go down. Fragnes is only 5kms from Chalon sur Saône, so we were able to make good use of the cycles and visit the town. Last time we were there it was cold and windy so on a bright sunny day we decided to do what we do best and soak up the atmosphere with a walk around town and lunch in the square. It took three attempts before we found a table;the financial crisis has not extended to the French curtailing their déjeuner.

While in Burgundy we have explored with both the cycles and the motorbikes.   Burgundy has an extensive network of bikeways;they call it the VoieVere,(Green Way) and have constructed 800kms of well-paved and signposted rides through the most picturesque parts of the countryside. So many more people are using them than even last year, might have a lot to do with school holidays of course. We met a Swiss girl, cycling from Basel to Nevers who had never left the green way. Our efforts are very insignificant compared to that.

Our Anzac Day commemoration was confined to flying our largest Australian flag on our very short mast as we travelled up the Saône to Verdun sur le Doubs and watching the video of the special day Tony shared with Peter last year at Villers Bretonneux. Verdun sur le Doubs is having its annual springtime garden fete today so the square is a collection of stalls selling a huge collection of seedlings both flowers and vegies. We have weakened and now have three new window boxes with petunias, pansies and lettuces. We’re off tomorrow for St Jean de Losne where we hope to get all the maintenance done in time to continue up the Saône to meet our next visitors in May.