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.