You’ll never get a better view of le pont d’Avignon than from the boat, warned Roy, so I snapped away.
Two points to clarify here: (a) it’s actually called Pont Saint Bénézet, and (b) though the people actually danced sous (under) the bridge, the words of the famous song go, “Sur (on) le pont d’Avignon l’on y danse etc.” (Not that we want to be anal about this, or do we, Roy?)
Rhône River: Condrieu, Saint-Vallier, Valance (l’Epervière), Cruas, Saint-Etienne-des-Sorts
After a quick round of the Carrefour at Confluence Lyon port, off we headed for our first day on the Rhône – two locks (one with a 9m chute, the other 6m), and a total of five hours. Differently from the Sâone, the Rhône has a specific channel that you (meaning Roy) have to watch for and follow. We had the famous mistral wind behind us, and a little bit of current.
Rivers Sâone and Rhône:
Lyon stands on the site of Lugdunum, the capital of ancient Gaul, established in 43BC
Our only lock from Neuville to Lyon, Couzon, took a good hour, as we and three other leisure boats (including The Way, which moored behind us last night) had to wait for a montant (going upstream) commercial barge.
We tried the two-ropes-to-one-bollard technique, just for practice; and have stuck with that for the rest of these big Rhône locks.
From there, it’s a picturesque cruise into Lyon, France’s third-biggest city.
Flashback to the 80s
My last trip to Lyon was in the 80s, as part of my first overseas adventure, a six-week Contiki tour of Europe. Here’s a blast from the past, if you’ll excuse my gratuitous arm art. We were all dressed up for a “Bad Taste Party” at the disco.
Port de Plaisance de Lyon Confluence
Apart from being a mouthful to say, the huge, modern Port de Plaisance de Confluence at Lyon is quite something to behold. Smaller boats moor at pontoons near the capitainerie, in the port de plaisance proper; bigger ones like ours go under a 4.5m bridge and moor against the pier.
There’s a two-metre gap between the water and the pier, so it’s a bit of a leap from our roof. Confluence itself is a big, hyper-modern shopping mall with, wait for it, a Zara. Not just a Zara, but one of the biggest Zaras I’ve ever seen – and I’ve seen a lot of Zara shops all over the world. (Yet nothing tempted me; I must be coming down with something.)
After an extended apéro session with hospitable Californians Becky and Dave on board their beautiful Piper boat Wanderlust (where we also met Kiwis Cilla and Aaron Hegerty from Christchurch), Roy and I headed to a nearby brasserie called Midi à Minuit.
Though it was closed for renovations, its menu was being served at the highly unexpected “English-themed” Peaky Blinders Tavern right next door. I had some excellent salmon, Roy had seven-hour-braised lamb shoulder (about €65 for two mains, a bottle of wine and a café gourmand).
Sunday Lunch in the Old City
From our capitainerie, we’d got the timetable for the very convenient Vaporetto, a water-taxi that shuttles between the Confluence port and three other stops.
It’s just €2 per trip, and the first stop is perfect for visiting the old city of Lyon, highlights of which include the Cathedral and the old neighbourhoods, Quartier St Jean and Quartier St Georges.
Without even trying, we stumbled on two Sunday morning markets – first a general one with some great-looking fresh produce, other food and household stuff, then a market selling a wide variety of art.
At random, we chose L’Amphitryon for lunch. Empty except for us at noon, it was packed by 1pm, as were all the other bouchons (typical Lyonnaise brasseries) in the old part of the city.
Everyone, naturally, wants to go to the three-Michelin-starred Paul Bocuse Restaurant. We didn’t have time to even try, but we did attempt to visit the indoor market “Les Halles de Lyon – Paul Bocuse” in Part Dieu shopping centre, recommended to us by David and Becky. It was closed for Sunday afternoon, which was fair enough. So we took a cheap and easy tram back to Confluence. This is a very convenient city to visit by boat!
Doubs River (briefly) and Sâone River: Roy in a good mood at Verdun-sur-le-Doubs, return to Chalon-sur-Sâone, treats in Tournus, Mâcon, medieval masonry at Montmerle-sur-Sâone, not-so-new Neuville-sur-Sâone
Four hours and two beautiful, big locks after leaving St Jean-de-Losne one lovely Sunday morning, Karanja berthed at Verdun-sur-le-Doubs, just in time for Roy to catch the last half of the British Grand Prix.
Canal de Bourgogne: A rattling good time in St J-d-L, French engineering, friends and neighbours, out and about, memorable musée, Bastille Day bonhomie, minor mishaps
St Jean-de-Losne seemed far more attractive this time round than it did on our driving holiday in October last year, when we stopped in for a quick look-see and a coffee. That was a good thing, as we were going to be spending a full week here, moored to the Blanquart service quay just after the lock that takes you from the Sâone River to the start (or end) of the Canal de Bourgogne.
River Sâone, Part One: Far canal stats, Roy “The Knife” in Poncey lock, feasting on frogs’ legs in Pontailler, cycling around Auxonne
Here are the stats for our journey so far, according to the Ancient Mariner:
River Wide
It’s fabulous to be on the wide, beautiful River Sâone, which we have mainly to ourselves. You get an inkling of what a big country France is – and that there’s often not very much in between the towns.
Orientation (for Carl, who likes to know)
We’ve come south to Pontailler down Le Canal entre Champagne et Bourgogne – here, if you can read the tiny light-blue script, it’s called by its old name, Canal de la Marne à la Sâone.
Roy “The Knife”
It wasn’t all quite this peaceful, though. At our only lock today, at Poncey, at the end of a short canal deviation from the Sâone, that very dangerous thing that everyone warns you about happened: Roy’s mooring rope got caught and the boat started to “hang”.
Quick as a flash, he sprang into action! Leaping across the wheelhouse, he got the knife that had been sitting in its box waiting for this very thing to happen, and cut the rope with a loud twang. Cleverly, he cut it near the eye, so we wouldn’t lose the whole rope. All he has to do now, he says, is to “splice another eye*”.
(*Everyone should have one or more things they are totally incapable of doing, lest they find themselves uncomfortably indispensable. Mine used to be answering switchboards; to that, I’ve now added splicing eyes in ropes.)
Pontailler-sur-Sâone
We loved our two nights at Pontailler’s conveniently located Canalous Port. (Canalous, by the way, is the name of a boat hire company, and very nice they look, too.)
In the middle of another heatwave, cooking was out of the question, and so we ate our dinner two nights running at the excellent Les Marronniers restaurant – named for the nearby grove of horse-chestnut trees.
Like most countries, I suppose, France has its share of mediocre eateries; this is not one of them. We had foie gras salad, oefs-en-meurettes and tartiflette pizza on the first night; on the second, chicken supreme for Roy and frogs’ legs in parsley butter for me.
Auxonnes
Having been ushered to the far end of the visitors’ pontoon by Aussie John the port captain, we were about as far as it was possible to be from the pretty centre ville.
But it’s better to be away from the row of families closer to shore, moored side-by-side and close enough to smell one another’s farts.
Our bikes came in handy at Auxonne, as we rode them to the big and beautiful Intermarché and its neighbouring Brico – a sort of DIY chain, like the UK’s Horrible Homebase or Oz’s Boring Bunnings*.
(*These are places I avoid in the normal course of events; but I unfortunately managed to drop the action-end of the deck broom into the canal a couple of days ago, and part of my just punishment is sourcing its replacement.)
And later, we cycled back to town for dinner at Le Corbeau, said to be the best restaurant in town; and though the food was fine (Roy’s duck breast with mash was excellent; I had the faux filet with frites, a bit dull), I thought the best thing about the place was the waiter. So precious! – I dared not photograph him.
Le Canal entre Champagne et Bourgogne: Saint-Dizier, Chevillon, Dongeux/Rouvroy, Viéville/Vraincourt, Chaumont, Foulain, Rolampont, Heuilly-Cotton, Cusey, Fontaine Francaise/Saint Seine, Revène
French lessons, service with a sourire, semi-villages, famine country, Chaumont and the Holy Grail, French Style Police, heroic Henri IV fountain
In case you (like our son Carl) have been wondering exactly where we are – and I know the feeling well! – here are are a couple of maps, boldly nicked from the internet. The red squiggle in the centre of the map of France (left) shows Le Canal entre Champagne et Bourgogne, whose 114 locks we’ve just completed, heading from north to south.
Canal de l’Aisne à la Marne, Canal latéral à la Marne, Canal entre Champagne et Bourgogne:
Ropy run to Reims, Lynn and Kim for lunch, close but no champagne at Billy-le-Grande, super-chaud in Chaussée, stranded in Orconte
Berry-au-Bac to Sillery port (10km from Reims)
For today’s 14 locks, we’d be experiencing a different automatic lock system – one that’s activated by twisting a perche, or rod, that’s suspended from a gallows-like contraption over the river.
Canal du Nord, Canal Lateral D’Oise, Rivers Oise and Aisne, Canal latéral à l’Aisne: Plague of flies at Pont D’Ercheu, télécommanding the locks, supper with Simon at Pont l’Évêque, surprising DIY success at Soissons, Eugenie and Inevitable at Vic-sur-Aisne, Californian Cindy and Emily at Bourg-et-Comin, it’s only lunch at Berry-au-Bac
Pont d’Ercheu and Noyon (Pont l’Évêque)
When I say a plague of flies, I really do mean a pestilential visitation of Biblical proportions. I’ll only ever remember Pont D’Ercheu for the thousands that somehow swarmed in – and, when I went down to make lunch, rose like a cloud from the kitchen sink. Disgusting!
Wind and rain on the Canal de Lens, Arnaud and Arnaud at Arleux, less-than-loquacious lock-keepers, biking in Hermies, tripartite tunnel at Ruyancourt, montant vs avalant, Péronne market and double-mooring Dutchmen in the port de plaisance
Béthune to Courriéres (Canal de Lens)
We woke up to rain, strong wind and the threat of worse to come. Pessimist that I am, I feared that Karanja would be blown all over the place, but my Ancient Mariner is made of sterner stuff and insisted we set off. In fact, it he found it no problem to navigate in winds gusting at up to 45 km/h.
Just one lock today – Cuinchy – again different from the three we came through yesterday. Plus, this was the first lock we’d had to share: we’d come in behind an enormous commercial double-barge. I climbed my first green and slimy lock ladder to get the aft rope around the bollard indicated by M. Éclusier.
Then, just as the lock finished filling, Mother Nature sent a nasty rain-squall to dash my pride and bring me back to a more accurate understanding of my place in the universe.
Overnight at an halte nautique at Courriéres, on the Canal de Lens. An halte nautique, by the way, can be no more than a floating pontoon, sometimes just big enough for one or two boats like us. And we are the exception – almost all the vessels we’re seeing are huge commercial barges; often, they’re double, the rear one pushing the one in front.
Most of them have a car on the back; some are adorned with potted flowering plants. Their drivers are extremely polite, too, at least in this part of the country; often, they’ll slow down as they pass a tiddler like us, so as to minimise their wake, and they’ll always wave.
Courriéres (Canal de Lens) to Arleux
Three locks today – Douais, Courchelettes and Goeulzin – and a few new experiences.
Once again without internet, we trudged into Arleux in search of a telecomms shop. Nothing like it in this little village, but there was a great little bar where the two charming Arnauds called us a cab to the nearest Bouygues, at Sin-le-Noble.
It cost over €60 for cabbie Eric’s aller-retour; Roy was gloomy to say the least. We’ve supposedly used 2G of data in one day, though just on email, basic internet searches and un petit peu de Facebook. Impossible, right? Putain!
Arleux to Hermies
Up early and braced to go through seven locks – Arleux, Palleul, Marqion, two at Sains-lés Marquion, Moeuvres, and two at Graincourt-lès-Havrincourt. Try saying that last one over the VHF radio as you approach the lock.
That’s my job, by the way – much as I detested doing the RYA VHF radio course at Bysham Abbey last summer on the Thames. As we approach each lock, I’ve got to say, for example:
“Écluse (lock) Arleux, Écluse Arleux, c’est Karanja, bateau Karanja, plaisanciér (pleasure boat), montant (or avalant, depending whether we’re heading upstream or downstream), je suis à 5 (or whatever) kilometres distance. Over.”
They may or may not answer. If they do, I may or may not understand them. No matter – they know we’re coming, and everything seems to happen as it should.
Hermies to Péronne
A big day, indeed! – starting with Ruyancourt Tunnel, over 4km kilometres long and divided into three sections. The first is one-way, the second two-way and the third one-way. If the light is green at the end of the first section, you of course go. If it’s red – and for us it was – you pull up to the side, attach a rope to a bollard and wait.
As two monster barges approached and passed us, it took our combined strength to keep Karanja’s bow against the side.
Montant vs Avalant #101
After that came four locks in quick succession – but now, for the first time, we were going downstream (avalant) – rather than upstream (montant) and had to learn new tricks.
For the uninitiated:
* When you’re montant in locks like these, you enter at the bottom of an empty lock chamber; you attach your rope to a bollard set low into the wall and use it to hold the boat to the side of the lock wall; as the lock progressively fills, your rope slips off the bollard and you attach it to the bollard above it, and so on until the lock has filled.
* When you’re avalant, you enter a full lock chamber and attach your rope to a big bollard at ground level. As the lock empties, you attempt to release your bollard in time and attach it to the one below it.
Two nights in Péronne
I’d phoned ahead, and thank goodness they had a mooring for us in the port de plaisance at Péronne. After six nights on the trot, it was nice to plug into shore-power, do the laundry, and fill up the water-tank at our leisure.
At La Péronnaise a couple of hundred metres up the road from our mooring – brasserie, pizzeria, loto, bar and tabac all in one – we had the three-course menu for €12 a head. Great value!
Next morning, we took the short walk into town to catch the Saturday market. Apart from some pretty good fresh produce (artichokes, asparagus and melons are in season), a sterling fishmonger and a butcher flogging the dreaded andouillette – that stinky pork tripe sausage we heaved over last summer, in Chablis – it included myriad vendors of cheap clothing, shoes, household gadgets and even an upholsterer.
Though we liked the look of Les Archers, we instead had a great lunch at Bistrot d’Antoine on the edge of the market square.
Back at the port de plaisance, a couple of jolly Dutch couples on two boats had merrily double-moored next to us. Roy bristled a bit with testostero-territoriality, but they’d got permission from the port authority, they explained. No doubt there’ll come a day when we’ll be happy and relieved to be able to do the same.
