France's Nuclear Legacy

Enroute down the Rhone Valley we past 3 huge nuclear facilities within 200km of each other - on this day there was a dozen windsurfers belting across the river down wind of the reactor....I bet the sailors reckon the winds are allways nuclear there!

sur la pont d'Avignon

17th September. Finding a place to stop on the Rhone is becoming more difficult as the pleasure boats become more scarce and the big commercial traffic tends to dominate. After travelling from Condieu, through a 15 m lock we saw that the marina at Laveyron had been taken by the river so we continued to just past St Vallier and tied up against a concrete quay that was constructed with a submerged dyke as flood protection. This was not in our guide book but it was getting late and we didn’t have a lot of options. During the night the wind started to howl and we got bashed against the pile by a particularly large barge wake and cracked a stanchion (one that Boyd and Nick had welded up in Belgium). Add this to the list of jobs for Port St Louis!

18th September. Travelled 88km through locks of 11.8m, 14m, 13.5m and 18.5m in vertical drop to a lovely fortified little town called Viviers dating back to the Roman period and still very unspoiled by tourism and the 21st century. By that stage the wind was howling 30 – 40 knots and we were received by many willing hands on the marina to assist in us getting tied up safely. Several other yachts had hunkered down here during the inclement weather. The following day we carried out maintenance on the yacht (restitching life ring webbing, re-erected the dingy davits, made a new bracket to support the mast top wind instruments, etc) and explored the town on bike whilst the wind and rain persuaded us not to venture on. Caroline and David (and their little son Charley) from ‘Navita’ invited us on board for a drink that evening with Christine and Yokken from ‘Heidi(something)’. We chatted and drank red wine till it was well pissed ted bine.

19th September. Did the biggest lock on the Rhone today; Ecluse de Bollene is around 26 metres. We had left Viviers with two Bittish boats, Voyager with Kerry and June, and the 1917 Dutch tug Van Speyke with Britts Colin and Sue and it was good to have company in the lock for perspective and of course someone to talk to whilst the slimy green vertical walls grow taller and the sky closes in above you. Apparently the upstream gates failed on this lock, when it was still the largest in the world a number of years ago, sinking a river barge and drowning its driver. Now all people transiting locks must wear lifejackets, much to Nick’s disgust.

We had everyone above on board Pina Colada for drinks that evening in Avignon just 200 metres or so up from the famous bridge of the French nursery rhyme.

Lyon to the top of the Hill!

In Lyon we pulled up against a stone pier right in the centre of the town where we saw two other little yachts tied up with some river barges, rather than round the peninsula bounded by the Saone and the Rhone and spend the night in the marina. An impressive Church, Cathedral St-Jean, presides over the cobble stone streets and medieval and Renaissance houses high on the western hill and we immediately off loaded the bikes to gain the lofty views that were afforded after much exertion. The way down again involved descending a flight of a hundred steps or so and we happening across a radical mountain bike circuit. Much of it required full motocross gear though.

Lyon’s Place des Terreaux has an incredible statue/fountain by Bartholdi, creator the Statue of Liberty, of four horses representing four rivers galloping in front of a maidens chariot. The horses have claws coming from there hooves and vine bridles. Its so powerful and beautiful. In a nearby square centred on more modern works of art, numerous skateboarders gather to practice tricks. We sat and watched them in the sun for awhile; I bought some material for making courtesy flags, to fly when we enter foreign countries. (Our French flag is still intact after several days of wicked flapping in the breeze). If you go a couple of streets further from here we discovered that the feel changes suddenly. The streets become narrower, slightly hilly and the inhabitants are predominantly a middle eastern. This is always the best kind of area to find cheap internet outlets, overseas phone cards and tasty kebabs but we get the feeling we should watch our pockets.

15th of September – Our Wedding Anniversary. Spent most the day wandering on foot through the ancient streets. The larger shopping streets are closed to traffic so its lovely just to wander down them window shopping. Nick bought me an outfit (skirt and two tops) of dark blue bouncy cotton and lace - totally spoiled!

Making a mile after lunch we descended a 12 metre lock then a 7 metre lock over a stretch of the river 41 km long, stoping at a lovely marina at Condrieu in the early evening. The Rhone valley at this stage was becoming wider and more mountainous on each side. There are so many fortifications in ruins along the river, and tiny patches of grape vines clinging to the rocky slopes. High on the western horizon a missile like structure topped the highest peak in view. Perhaps it was the champagne that made us decide to ride there the next day.

16th September. It took Nick and I over three hours of riding uphill, without one metre of downhill respite, apart from when we dismounted at the “Maison du Park” for a map of downhill bike trails in the nature park. I did not have a skerrick of effort left when I finally stepped off the peddles onto my wobbly legs at the summit, we had climbed over 1,200 vertical meters to the 1,400m peak. The structure had high security and was probably some kind of TV transmitter. Next to it a huge stone cross stood at the precipice against the cold wind and time. We took the forest tracks at high speed down the hill, through little enclaves and towns nestled into the cols of the steep hills, threw our bikes into a ditch to dash into an orchard and pick big crisp apples. Then huge juicy mouthfuls as we rolled on, past stone walled farm houses, with terracotta tiles, and pigsty’s inside the ground floor barns. Back at the boat we got under the hose on the pontoon to cool off.

From Nicks mouth today

(Written by Nick) In the last few days we have gone over the top of France – so to speak. At the altitude of 340m above sea level, some 100 odd locks up hill we entered the 5km long tunnel that links the Marne water shed with that of the mighty Soane. The tunnel was intimidating at first as there was only a metre or two of clearance all around the yacht – that is on each side, above our heads and below the water. A row of fluoro lights did a mediocre job of illuminating the way ahead but we had the big spotlight on hand in case of a power cut which would have left us very much in the dark. The tunnel is dead straight but interestingly it didn’t take long before we couldn’t see the daylight behind us. It took 32 minutes to transit at a speed of around 5 knots. As soon as we popped out into the sun on the Soane side we were greeted with a “ladder” of eight 5.5m locks to descend. We knocked these over in short order quickly realising that locking down is way easier than locking up as there is no turbulence as the water enters the lock. We are able to very casually sit in the lock and maintain our position with a boat hook fending off the walls. In the smaller locks no ropes are required at all.

Up until this time I have been doing the manoeuvring of the boat whist Blue has been doing all the deck work, jumping on and off, shifting fenders and handling the ropes. All of which was taking its tool on her back to the point that she has now quite willingly taken over the responsibility of driving the boat in and out of the locks and jetties. She has got the hang of it really quickly.

We have made really good time coming down the Soane and as I write this we are a couple of hours away from the second biggest city in France – Lyon. We have put in a week or so of long days travelling so are looking forward to arriving around lunchtime and spending a bit of time exploring the city and doing a bit of shopping. We will probably spend 24 hrs in Lyon before continuing on another 3 days or so to Port Saint Louis on the Mediterranean where we will replace the standing rigging (wires that hold the mast up) tackle the eternal list of boat maintenance jobs and put the mast back up before hotfooting it out of the Med so as to improve the timing of our passage across the Atlantic.

We have had a running battle with weed in the canals. Several times I have swum down to remove weed from the propeller after we have seen the boat speed reduced by up to two knots. Up until yesterday I have been happy to get in the water as the weather has been nice and hot but yesterday we saw a lab report that the local council had posted at the pier showing E coli counts of in excess of 10,000 and high streptococcal counts as well. I guess it shouldn’t be much of a surprise that at the heart of Europe the water of the major rivers is poor quality. We have also had to clean a couple of cup fulls of river weed from the cooling water strainer everyday

We have had no mechanical problems so far – touch wood! aside from a minor inconvenience when the engine threw an alternator belt a couple of days ago. We reckon we have used around 450 litres of fuel so far on the canals for around 160 hours of motoring at between 5 and 6 knots. The price of diesel here is not fantastic – in Saint Jean Du Losne we paid 1.21 Euro per litre. I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on 600L at the rate I negotiated for the Diamond Mine from BP right now!

Boyd mentioned to me that it interested him observing the boats wake in the tight canals and I have also been surprised at some of the effects. As the wake runs along the wall of the canal it creates all sorts of funny patterns shapes and sounds depending on the type of wall, we also noticed that as the boat pushes its way down the shallow narrow canal the water at the wall draws down a good 200mm in front of the yachts position and the water accelerates as it squeezes past the hull so that the impellor driven Speedo often reads a couple of knots faster than the GPS speed. Also the boat must be pushing a wave of water in front because when we come to a constriction in the canal such as the abutments of a narrow bridge you can see the speed reduce and watch the bow rise up a few degrees as though we are climbing a hill!

Later on........

this is what happens when you drink champagne in the sun....

Champagne

We tied up in Epernay, Champagne capital of the world, at the sailing/tennis club where very good amenities (power,water, laundry, showers etc) were provided. We immediately set out to explore the town on our bikes and within an hour, learned of a complimentary Champagne tasting at the tourism office at 1500 hrs. Whilst exploring the town we quietly entered the Notre-Dame Church and marvelled at the 16th C stained glass and organ by famous organ builder Cavaille-Coll. The acoustics of the nave were spellbinding and completely alone Nick and I gave our best rendition of Requiem.
Avenue de Champagne, is home to the Moet & Chandon headquarters. Needless to say, everything inside Moet (said with a "t") & Chandon was rather luxurious. During the tour a video was shown before our lovely French hostess led us through the grand foyers down into the cellars whilst telling us all about Dom Perignon and how to make Champagne. Underneath Epernay (and the surrounding villages), there is kilometre after kilometre of wine cellars; underground passages through the chalk. The moisture holding capacity of the stone ensures constant temperatures (11C) and humidity (80%) year round providing ideal conditions for the fermentation process of Champagne.
After the tour we tasted the non-vintage Brut and the Demi Sec. Both delightfully subtle, with fresh blossom fragrances and an elegance that rises into a fantastic time. Back to the boat and our French caretaker offered us a complimentary welcoming glass of bubbles. Superb.
The next day we rode out in search of more bike tubes and, of course, more Champagne. The later wasn’t difficult to find; the elaborate gates of Champagne houses are lined up along the streets of Epernay. We toured and tasted at the Castellane Champagne house and museum (gratis thanks to the sailing club), again we were impressed by the professionalism of the tour and flavours of their Champagne. Following this we ventured back to the tourism office for that days showcase in flutes. The differences between producers are declared with pride, whether the second fermentation is in oak, the duration in the cellars, the ratio of Pinot Noir, Pinot Munnier and Chardonnay grapes, the cuvee of the vineyards, the royal endorsements etc etc.
On the afternoon of the 3rd Nick and I rode 30 km to a town called Verzy to see some very unusual dwarf beech trees of which there are only 1000 in existence. It was a gruelling ride up into the Regional Nature Park and a fast ride back through the vineyards, forests and old villages back to Epernay.
Epernay is the first place we have had to pay a fee (32 Eros for 2 nights) since Arsenal marina in Paris. Nick and I have seen free power and water available along side pontoons for bateaus (boats) who are travelling the canals and need a place to stop. Most often, there is no one using the facilities.
After leaving Epernay we stayed at "picknick spots" along the banks of the canals and transit approximately 18-20 locks per day. At the town Vitry-le-Francois we were greeted on the banks by a familiar accent advising to tie up to the near bank because our draft would be too great for the marina. Bruce Blikey off the river boat Zizz is an Australian guy who has been travelling the canals on and of for over ten years. We departed at the same time as Bruce so as to conserve on "flying ecluseiers" and water in the canals. However, travelling through locks with other boats is not the best for us as on two of the three occasions we`have tried this the other boat has rammed our windvane. Nothing to serious so far, just a small ding in the servo rudder but we would hate anything to happen to that vital piece of equipment!
Because this stretch of the canal Marne a la Saone is predominantly broken up into 2-3 km stretches between manual locks each bateau has a dedicated eclusier who speeds in their little white citron vans opening and closing the locks before and after you. It’s a race against time that makes you feel very privileged and a bit lazy when they are working so hard. Each eclusier has a 20 km or so stretch of river to service before another takes over, and of course they overlap where there are boats travelling in different directions.
Whilst motoring along there is not a huge amount of time wasted. Either Nick or myself must be concentrating on the helm for the canals are only ~15 meters wide here, whilst the other is preparing a lunch of fresh local tomatoes and cheese on croissants, making cups of tea, estimating our next stopping time or coiling ropes and preparing for the next lock around the corner. Its very pleasant all in all. However, this part of the journey we have decided to travel continuously during lock opening times so that we may reach the Mediterranean within the month.

The Marne River 31 August to 1 September

6 km upstream from Arsenal marina Nick and I turned left onto the Marne River and went through our first of many tunnels. The tunnel is 240 metres long.. Some of the little yellowish lights were out – I felt like I was in the ghost train and that something was going to caress my face from the dripping black shadows. Spider web hung in great cloths from the cobbled backs overhead.
The most amazing wildlife we have seen so far was only a couple of hours out of Paris when Nick spotted two castors (like big beavers) swimming with their moustaches out of the water. They were as long as a Labrador would be whilst swimming, from the tip of their nose to the end of their tails. We transited 5 locks before tying up for the night on the Marne River at Chalifert lock as the lock keeper was not there when we arrived at 1830. The surrounding forested hills presented a great opportunity to try our new Shimano bike shoes. Having cleats is fantastic –you get a seemingly free little push along. At the top of one hill we made out the gaudy tops of Disney Park so zoomed down for an ultra quick tour through the streams of pedestrians walking between exhibits with armfuls of show bags. On the way back we grabbed (aka thieved) a few cobs of what we thought was corn from a field – later to discover it was inedible maize. The funniest thing was watching Nick cycling along with 6 corn cobs down the back of his bike pants to form a heavy knobbed bulge. I think any gendarme would have been too embarrassed to ask!
Then we discovered the greatest downhill single track ride. It wound through the dark forest undergrowth in a narrow tunnel over humps and dips, faster and faster over the descending ground, breaking out into grassy clearings before being swallowed up again. It switched back so that we reached the bottom of the hill on a quiet gravel road close to the canal. We had to do it twice it was so much fun, but completely exhausting getting to the top again! We were so hot we both when for a swimming the Marne and Nick put a mask on (not that it helped much) to check for damage from a loud thunk as we left Paris and hit a big floating log most likely. The water was bracing and Nick found no evidence of damage on the propeller.
From Chalifert to Charley, where we tied up for the night of the 1 September, we transited seven locks and gained almost 30 metres elevation. The high rolling hills are becoming more often raked with vineyards. On this evening Nick and I phoned Marg to say happy birthday at 0500 NZ time (doh!). We rode down the snig tracks of the extensive forestry blocks, and stopped to sample the tight bunches of blackening grapes. I got a puncture that could not be repaired so walked my bike the last km or so back to PC. Later on Nicko rode back into town to phone Marg. He was gone when night fell. PC was tied to a gangway and poles in the river along a deserted bank. I settled into reading the river guide books we have on board. I came across some information that said strange occurrences were know to occur in a "devils house" and the locals gave this house a wide berth. Even though I figured we’d passed this hours back I closed all the curtains on PC and had a glass of wine to chill out. When Nick returned he verified that it was only a km upstream and got all spooky too. So much for the return of my warrior to protect me! The next morning we passed the "devils house" and both agreed that although it looked neglected it was superb in its gaudy brickwork and cat gargoyles but the day was bright by that stage.

A long summer weekend in Paris

The day was hot (32 degrees) as the Nissan engine in PC hummed up the last 10 km to port de Paris l’Arsenal. The river traffic caused a bit of a chop on the murkey water although we were not confronted with the number of commercial boats that we had expected and we could allow ourselves to enjoy the passing architectural riches. The river passes the Eiffel tower, (we had to crane our necks to view the enormous "hollow candlestick"), the huge glass roof of the Grand Palais, Place de Concorde, the Musee du Louvre and on the island of la cite, the Notre Dame. The French are wild on bridges and the river was stitched with old and new ones, adorned with gigantic Romanesque statues of semi clad heros, heroines and horses, many with bright gold trimming. The very many homeless in Paris inhabit the archways, cluttering the space with furniture and bric-a-brac to create, in some cases, fairly substantial squats whilst using the river as a toilet. Indeed, one must watch out for human excreta as well as the canine variety in gay Paris whilst walking about.
We locked upward another 5 metres into Arsenal marina, directly in line with the towering column of Place de la Bastille, symbol of the French revolution that started when the people of France stormed the Bastille prison here in 1789. We tied up next to a tidy live-aboard river boat, as instructed, that belonged to a bespectacled, very Frenchman named Philippe. PC was the largest yacht with the mast on the deck so we had to fit along the canal which is actually a thoroughfare to the canal Saint Martin.
Nearly all the marina pens were full. It is bound on one side by gardens and an alfresco bistro/café, with pathways up to the street level, and a high stone wall on the other that many passers-by can gaze over as they walk along Boulevard Bourdon.
On Saturday we walked through the Latin quarter to Montreuil one of Paris’ marches aux puces (flee markets) in search of, as our Lonely Planet describes , "good-quality second hand clothes and designer seconds, engravings, linen" etc. What literal rubbish! It mostly offered new synthetic scarves, sweat shirts, and cheap sunnies and grubby second hand spanners. It wasn’t a patch on Melville markets back home. I purchased a new tie-died hat for 4 Euro that Nick described as vomit. Perhaps I’ll paint it. Nick’s lack of enthusiasm for going in the first place was vindicated. That evening we invited a English couple on board for a beer. John and Lucy are about our age and had traversed France from the Mediterranean on a 28 foot sloop after sailing for 2 seasons on the Med. Had a good laugh mostly about the ‘don’ts’ such as eating a cold can of tripe stew whilst your mate is comatose with sea sickness if you want to maintain happy relations on board.
We hope everyone had a good Sunday 27 August. Ours was delightful. We slept in (very unusual for Nick but he’s improving) then went for an aimless stroll around the Seine, circling the masterpiece of gothoic art, the Notre Dame and taking in the bouquinisters (book stalls) perched along the quays. Its so cool how the French use the street lamps to hang up pot plants which, at present, are all spilling over with bright colorful flowers. And how most the streets, apart from the crippled narrow lanes are shaded by rows of uniformly large deciduous trees. The cafes’ red awnings over clusters of elegant chairs and tiny round tables are conspicuous on the street corners. We watched a few street perfomers at the Centre Pompidou: Tuvan singers, portrait artists, an accordion player, marionette puppet and a very flexible French girl who could climb inside a suitcase and make it dance.
At about 1930 hrs (to early to be hip), we walked a short distance to Chez Paul for dinner. This French restaurant came with a recommendation from Sas – we were lucky to get in and particularly lucky to get a table on the terrace as it was soon very crowded. And Oh my, the food! Rabbit pate, lump of exceedingly tender beef and, for desert, a macaroon burger filled with stewed rhubarb and fresh raspberries with a thin custard sauce. Nick had Sole, Sardines and Sorbet.
After dinner we caught the metropolitan to the red light strip of Pigalle to see the latest Cabaret at the Moulin Rouge (red mill). We had to queue for about an hour but forgot all about that annoyance once we were ushered under the massive chandelier to our table and poured a glass of Champagne. The cabaret lounge is suitably dim, and the tiers are jammed packed with tables covered in white cloths and cute little red lamps. French waiters rushed about trying to seat everyone before the lights fell. The show was so much more than we imagined, with amazing set changes, choreography, acrobatics and constant smiles(~2 finger widths). It was 2 hours of diamantes, frills and feathers that left everyone in the house grinning as they spilled back onto the street at 0100 hours. The taxi drive home past the Arc de Triomphe and down the majestic Champs-Elysees was awesome too.
During our last full day in Paris we visited the Louvre. This is the largest museum in the world. Its foundations are the remains of a 12th century feudal castle, preserved on the ground floor and visible from a walkway built through the ancient mote. To make the most of the collection in the Louvre we decided to accompany a guide around the major works of interest but found the tour fully booked when we arrived. Striking out on our own we went directly to La Joconde (the Mona Lisa, 1504). I find the interest in this DeVinci quite intriguing. It is not as large as I remembered it to be, its dark and blurry, she is not overly attractive, nor noble and appears to be wearing a toupee due to a strange line around her hairline (help me if you know what this is????). Nick and I were particularly impressed by the 16th and 17th century Dutch paintings, the ancient Greek glassblowing, the French crown jewels and Napoleon’s apartments. However, after three hours I began to overload and degenerated from the discerning aficionado to one of those nasty Aussies abroad joking about the embalmed fragment of Caesar’s foreskin in room 246. Nick was appreciating the mechanics of the unusual pedestal lift in the foyer. Time to go!
We left Arsenal marina at about lunch time on Tuesday 30 August, well aware that we had by no means seen everything that we would like to in Paris but that we have many miles to travel and cant settle anywhere for long. We missed the Pixies by one day and the White Stripes by a couple of weeks, drat.