Languidly Lingering

31st August, 2012 (Tony)

After sixteen days in Sillery, resting under the shady trees, painting, and glued, goggle-eyed, to the Olympic Games we drifted down to Condé sur Marne to spend another four days lolling under the shade of trees before moving on to Chalons en Champagne where we rested for a week, relaxing under the shade of the trees. We finally wrested ourselves away from Chalons and paused at Soulanges for a day, resting under the shade of trees and continued to Vitry le Francois to while away a couple of days sitting in the shade of the trees. Cousin Paul, and Pat, re-joined us at Vitry and cruised with us to Orconte, St Dizier and Joinville — a lazy week mostly whiled away under the shade of trees. We've since over-nighted at Donjeux and are now ensconsed at Froncles appreciating the cooling shade of the trees. Long may this glorious, but very late, European summer last! Needless to say we've done an awful lot of reading aided and abetted by a sizeable swap of books with three English couples moored adjacent to us at Chalons. There have been so many grassy reserves (now rather crisp and brown rather than soft and green) and shady trees along this route that we have barely had the awning up in the past month. However, we did erect the awning the other evening to enjoy a pre-dinner drink in privacy and to elude a pair of obnoxious Brit brats from a motorhome parked nearby. I was tempted to wander over and belt one of them on his big obese backside as clearly his parents weren't bothered. What is it with teenagers on holiday? The family should have hired a boat instead. Perhaps it's the heat or maybe I'm getting old for I responded rudely to an Aussie boatee drifting past the port where we were moored with six other boats. "You've taken up all the quay!" she shrieked. I spun around expecting to find a Sulphur Crested Cockatoo; then I thought perhaps it's someone who knows us and it's just a bit of sardonic Aussie sledging. But no, it dawned that she seriously thought her 16m floating scrapyard was more worthy of a berth than our 20m. "Well, bad luck," I retorted (or something of similar rhyme). After that incident I had to go and sit in the shade for a while to cool down.

Generally we have been very lazy, we've hardly been out on our bikes and we have only walked around a mere handful of villages to replenish supplies. At Condé we got on the motorbikes to take a couple of runs: to Ay and Mareuil sur Ay; and Bouzy and Ambonnay. We couldn't bear the thought of turning left after Condé and slipping out of Champagne without visiting these beautiful towns and calling on our favourite vintners to stock-up the cellar. Several remembered us, much amused at our mode of conveyance. They are all apprehensive about the pending harvest. The wet, cool early summer weather has produced smaller than usual grapes and the late heat has strained the skins to bursting which means they can no longer be sprayed. The Euro crisis and the fact that everywhere people have less desire to celebrate has diminished orders. And the AOC has provisionally decreed that this year growers may only harvest 9,000 tonnes per hectare (normally 10,500 t/h is produced) to turn into fizz. A dismal forecast for vintage 2012. Whilst at Condé, Paul and Pat stopped by for a couple of days on their way to Paris and Brittany. They returned later to spend a week with us as we cruised from Vitry le Francois up the Canal Entre Champagne et Bourgogne. While aboard they sealed the purchase of their own boat, an ex-hire boat from Le Boat, at Hesse (near the incline plane on Canal de la Marne au Rhin) and are looking forward to returning to France next May to take delivery and begin the cruising lifestyle. We wish them loads of pleasure and much happiness.

We are now climbing up towards the upper reaches of the Marne. We last travelled this route in 2008 and not a lot has changed. The restoration work on the cathedral in Chalons en Champagne is now finished and church services have resumed. Likewise, the scaffolding is gone from the gorgeous Chateau du Grand Jardin at Joinville and it looks wonderful with its new slate roof, surrounded by its meticulously tended parterres gardens. According to local legend Duc Claude de Lorraine had the chateau built, around 1546, to obtain the forgiveness of his wife, Antoinette de Bourbon, for his infidelity. Emblazoned under every window are sculptured mottos: Toutes pour une (all for one) and; Là et non plus [ailleurs] (there and no longer elsewhere) to emphasise his reformed commitment. We all ambled up to the top of the hill overlooking the town, the site of the original enormous castle. It was reduced to rubble following the revolution and the townsfolk made off with most of the stone to build houses for themselves. There's a lot to be said for keeping a log — it makes it easy to predetermine stopping places and special points of interest when the journey is repeated. It is a pretty canal. But we are astonished at the dearth of boats. We have seldom passed more than two boats, going either direction, on any day. What is refreshing though is the increase in the number of French owners of pleasure boats. Whereas they once seemed a rarity it is now quite common to find several in every port. Americans are nowadays almost non-existent. We are looking forward to revisiting Chaumont and Langres before descending down to the Saône, St John de Losne and into Burgundy again via the Canal de Centre.

Yesterday, we rode our motorbikes to Colombey les Deux Eglises, a 29 km pilgramage to the memorial and museum of Charles de Gaulle. We were impressed, not only by the gigantic Cross of Lorraine erected to his memory on top of the hill behind the town, but also with the vast, modern, cubist museum. We spent two hours, not long enough but information overload started to kick in, wandering the museum and we learned more about the man and the tumultuous period of politics that wracked France during WWII and on into the 1960's than we ever previously understood. Churchill and Roosevelt did not particulary like him. But he was the one who stood firm and resolved that France would be restored to freedom and glory. He bought a lovely home on the fringes of the town in the mid-thirties and lived there with his family most of his life, apart from during the war and whilst he was president. The views over the surrounding countryside are sensational. Today, Colombey LDE is a mecca for tourists stopping to pay homage to the General, his memorial, grave and museum.

We were eager to watch the opening of the Paralympics the other night. Suddenly, just as it was about to start, a violent electrical storm struck right overhead, obliterating any chance of receiving a signal. So we retired to bed where Sally drew comfort hiding under the covers. The storm was specatular but short-lived and we couldn't be bothered getting up again. I'm sure the rain, brief as it was, would have brought welcome relief to the farmers who have almost finished sowing their next crop rotation.