L'Avenir - Cruising Europe's Inland Waterways

  Smugness is a fairly unpleasant quality so if you were one of those irritated by the closing sentences of the last blog post I apologise and blame jet lag. Be assured that the scales have tilted and all feelings of self satisfaction have been tipped out and washed away by the deluge of rain we've endured since that one sunny afternoon. Mother swan and cygnets haven't been seen since, the champagne remains undrunk and on chill (although it now doesn't require refrigerating) and the daily trip to the baker for the baguettes has become someone's 'turn'. And anyway, how do you keep the baguette dry on the way back? Cabin fever is setting in. On the plus side the 'flurries of snow' forecast for today haven't eventuated (yet), the river level has gone down and the sun is rumoured to be making a reappearnce next Sunday  - and the cheese really is delicious.

Le Train Bleu, Paris Here we are once more. 40 hours from door to door via car, 2 buses, 2 planes, 2 trains, a taxi. and now, finally, our boat. I feel exhausted just writing that. Quite a lot of those long hours were spent waiting for connections in airports and railway stations. When, on touchdown in Paris, our pilot cheerfully announced that we'd made good time and arrived early it was good news for everyone- almost - we now had even more than 7 hours to kill before our train to Dijon. Should we leave our bags in left luggage and go sight seeing? When the automatic doors of the airport swished open and we were blasted with freezing wind and rain we decided that no, we had neither the energy nor will to drag our leaden feet anywhere, not even Paris. So, after an hour on the Air France bus ( the memory of last year's rush hour experience on the Metro still brings me out in a cold sweat) we found ourselves in the vast and draughty confines of the Gare de Lyon.We had ...

Not France! Bushrangers Bay, close to where we live in Australia. May Day. Or perhaps mayday!! Time, almost, to fly north once again in our pursuit of an endless summer. This year will be our sixth season on our boat and whilst I wouldn't claim we have the house winterisation down to a fine art we have, at least, learned the value of making a list and realised that it doesn't change greatly from year to year. The final couple of weeks at home are always a bit frantic as we attempt to catch up with jobs, family and friends.A lot of rushing around White Rabbit fashion. ''No time to say Hello, Goodbye! I'm late!" Speaking of rabbits we have had a plague of them on our property this summer. Those of you in the northern hemisphere may think it charming to look out of the window each morning and see dozens of bunnies cavorting in the grass or perhaps on the verandah looking in. I occasionally, fleetingly, think similarly - the baby ones, of which there a...

St Jean de Losne  The journey has ended for this year. We are back in the marina at St Jean de Losne and busy preparing L'Avenir for her long, northern winter and ourselves for our long flight to the southern summer. As ever, we find ourselves wondering at our surprise that this moment has arrived. Surely after 5 summers afloat we should have learned that time really does fly when you're enjoying yourself and the closer you are to the end the quicker it speeds by. Summer virtually threw its hand in a couple of weeks ago. We had intended staying at Auxonne for only one night but ended up tied to the pontoon there for 4 days of torrential rain and high winds. There seemed to be as much water falling out of the sky as there was running beneath us. At least we had the luxury of staying put. We felt admiration (and sympathy) for those hirers on their expensive week's boating holidays forced to battle on, clad in sou' westers and oilskins in conditions more North Sea tha...

Chateau at Ray-sur-Saone We handed in our remote control zapper at the final lock of the canal des Vosges at Corre with a slight feeling of relief. We'd made it through all those locks without any major delay. From here on we are on familiar waters. In fact this will be our third trip along this stretch this year alone. We know the stopping places, where to eat (at least we thought we did), where to shop etc. On the other hand there's a certain  lack of excitement -we know exactly what is, or isn't, around the next bend. We knew, for instance, that despite Corre appearing on our charts in bold type we would not stop. Instead, we went on to the port at Fouchecourt which has a 6 table restaurant serving reasonable food and run by an expat Belgian with possible ambition as a stand-up comedian (his side-kick is Chocolat the dog). Fouchcourt is one of many small villages along this stretch which are pretty, have a church and often a lavoir but nothing in the way of shops...

 In 1670 Louis XIV of France ordered the complete destruction of the fortress at Chatel-sur-Moselle near Epinal. The chateau, which stood on a limestone outcrop overlooking the river Moselle, was begun in the 11th century and by the time of its demise had grown to cover 5 hectares and was reputedly impregnable. For the next 300 years it remained an overgrown pile of rubble and then, in 1972, in protest at a project development on the site, a group was set up to try to save and restore the chateau. 40 years later we were privileged to be shown around the chateau by the man instumental in saving the chateau and who has devoted his life to the enormous task. I'm sorry to say that I don't know his name. Chatel-sur-Moselle doesn't get a mention in any of the guide books we have and we happened upon it more or less by accident. We had had the obligatory stop at Charmes which has been obliterated several times over the centuries and most recently during the WW2 and seems not t...

Locks. 93 over a distance of 122km. 47 up to the summit of the canal des Vosges and 46 back down. At the final Moselle lock we were, once again, given a 'telecommande' (remote control)  to zap the upcoming canal's automatic lock mechanisms. You point the zapper at a sign that says 'ici, hier, here'. Beside the sign is a post with a yellow pyramid shaped light. With luck (and a strong zapper battery) the pyramid will begin to flash and a green light will illuminate alongside the red light at the lock to indicate it's preparing for you. After an interval of time (varying) the gates open, the red light goes out leaving the green and in you go. In an ideal world that is. The canal des Vosges, whilst pretty, is not that ideal world. The first lock sets the tone for the whole trip - it doesn't work. It is 'en panne'.  The predecessor of the zapper was, of course, the real, live lock keeper (eclusier) who lived in a cottage beside the lock which he m...