BargeBlog

And Number one!

Mooring beneath the Eiffel Tower in Paris. No question for either of us – this was the top experience of our trip. For three glorious days, we toured Paris. We sat every evening as hourly the lights raced up and down the Tower and reflected in our wine glasses as we enjoyed the show. The bateaux Mouche did roar by and moved us slightly with their wakes but even they could be forgiven when one of them passed, a well-dressed crowd applauded, and we saw a bride and groom kiss as they said, "I do." How much more romantic can you get than to be married on a boat with the Eiffel Tower as a backdrop?

Returning to homeport, continued.

And how much better could a season be? Not any.

Champagne at a snail's pace

We’ve been barging from Chateau Thierry to Chalon en Champagne and back again for the last few weeks. We’re right in the middle of vendage, the grape harvest, and the vineyards stretch out for hectares and hectares around us, running down the hills in straight corduroy rows to the Marne River. The pickers are out in force, hunched over while stripping the vines of their peridot and ruby grapes. The big champagne houses are here, names like Mercier, Moet, and Dom Perignon, but every small town has its share of ten or fifteen small places with proprietors touting their family’s bubbly.

On a little train, we’ve toured Mercier with its 18 miles of caves. The excavated chalk was sold to porcelain manufacturers in Germany, the sale of which paid for the excavation. Very clever of Mr. Mercier in the 1850’s. Then the best part – tasting the fruit of all the labor, champagne.

We sipped the champagne, felt the bubbles explode in our mouths. I thought of old monks stumbling on the discovery and wondered at all of the culinary inventions of the world. Who figured out how to eat the first snail, artichoke, or even the first egg? I raised my glass in silent salute to the brave pioneers of the past. A sign hung on the wall, a quote from Madame Bollinger, one of the grandes dames of Champagne: “I drink champagne when I'm happy and when I'm sad. Sometimes I drink it when I'm alone. When I have company, I consider it obligatory. I trifle with it if I'm not hungry and drink it when I am. Otherwise I never touch it – unless I'm thirsty.”

Full Circle

Memory is a fickle thing. I pride myself on mine, but I know it has holes like Emmental cheese. For example, I don’t remember numbers. My own social security and current phone are about all my mind manages to retain. I often think brains are like hard disk drives, with a limited capacity, sometimes randomly accessed and other wise with agonizingly slowly sequential reads.

So, it didn’t surprise me when we closed the gap in our travels this year, completing our grand loop of a voyage, when Paul said, " You remember this canal? We were here in 2000." I looked ahead at the quiet tree-lined waterway. It looked much like any canal to me. I shook my head. "And here’s where we joined the Marne. Look familiar?" Vaguely. But it didn’t matter. From now on, we will be on previously traveled rivers and canals. I was sure to remember more, wasn’t I?

Imagine entered into the lock before Chalon en Champagne. We’d been here before on our maiden voyage and liked it. At least Paul said so. I just couldn't get a grasp on it as I glanced over the lock wall. I walked ahead and then, like the water flowing over a lock gate, the flood of memory came rushing back: the charming cathedral, the half-timbered buildings, the kids fishing in front of our mooring.

Later that evening as we sat with our guests Marsha, Karen and Rollie on deck, Paul spotted a familiar barge coming downstream. Even I recognized this boat – I jumped up. "My God, it’s Vertrouwen!" Our training barge. Paul called over to offer mooring next to us. We knew the boat was often in France during September, but with over 3,000 miles of waterways, what were the odds we would see her?

Roger Van Dyken stood at the helm and Vertrouwen sidled up next to Imagine like an old friend. Roger said, "Looks like these two old girls know each other." I hugged him, met his wife and hugged her and shook the hands of each of his six students. "Our first day on the canals," he said. I sighed. In another September, back in 1999, we too were experiencing our first day on the waterways aboard Vertrouwen.

We invited each other to view the boats. Vertrouwen hadn’t changed from what I remembered. With leaded glass windows and elegant lines, her gracefulness had sold me on the beauty of European barges. The students swarmed Imagine, studying our take on barging as a barge and breakfast. In our salon, underneath the skylight, I read the first few pages of "Learning Curve" describing piloting into my first lock with Roger at my side. Then applause from all of my audience, tears in my eyes, I hugged Roger again.

The next morning, one of the students stood at the helm as our two barges separated. We watched as he circled Vertrouwen and headed her into his first lock. We applauded and Roger shouted, " These guys are great. They might even challenge your title as students of the century." I hollered back, "Not possible. We were last century’s students!" And I lifted my coffee cup in salute to the bargees of tomorrow.

Sorry Charly

Just inside Champagne last Thursday, we stopped at the mooring at Charly. We hopped on shore and checked out the "nearby restaurant" advertised in our guide book. Closed permanently. Water and electric as advertised? Nope. Town was supposed to be great but Imagine needed Precious Bodily Fluids.
So we moved on to Chateau Thierry. Nice mooring, plenty of room, electric and water. Sweet. A good-sized town, pretty flowers, restaurants and a Champagne house, Pannier. Yesterday we drove to the WWI American War memorial and cemetery. The memorial marked where 310,000 American and French soldiers fought along side one another.

No Meaux?

We stole out of Paris early Sunday morning, like driving through a major city on an expressway with little traffic. Last night, we stopped at the pontoon port of Meaux, home of the delicious aged Brie cheese. Some fellow boaters had warned us the city was not picturesque, industrial, and possibly a good place to skip. We liked it though - the pontoons had electric and water... and were free. The city was nice nearby with good stores and old churches. We spotted a restaurant boat parked in the harbor called "La Péniche" which looked familiar. After studying it, we agreed it used to be "Beatrice" the restaurant barge in St. Jean de Losne and the boat that blocked our return into homeport back in 2001 so its customers could have the "lock experience." Imagine is due east now of Paris on the Marne River, going upstream against current, about 8 kilometers an hour. We hope to moor near Changis sur Marne, 80 kilometers from Paris by river. A bientot.

Our mooring in Paris!

C'est la vie!

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The Seine River was lined with beautiful mansions, yacht clubs and forests until we turned by the "large Chinese Hotel - you can't miss it," our friends had told us.  And they were right.  After a left hand turn, we headed straight toward the Paris city center. Our entrance wasn't auspicious. Dark rain clouds swooped down and pelted us with rain while the wind blew up whitecaps on the Seine. For a while, we played chicken with a Bateau Mouche tour boat, seeing who could get under the bridge span first.  But then the clouds passed, the wind died down, and we spotted the spire of the Eiffel Tower. We took videos and photos as we spun around the small island where the miniature of the Statue of Liberty stands, and headed into the harbor where we had our reservation.  And what a view - we are moored beneath La Tour Eiffel and treated to a lightshow on the hour at night. Today, shopping at the Galeries Lafayette, tomorrow lunch at the Eiffel Tower Jules Verne restaurant.

Paris or Bust!

Imagine moored along the Seine River last night, near one of the giant river locks. Paul had no idea how fast we'd travel this river, and we're delighted to have made good progress yesterday - almost 50 kilometers, racing downstream at 12 kilometers an hour. This puts us within a day's cruise of downtown Paris, where we have mooring reservations for tonight and tomorrow beneath the Eiffel Tower. Stay tuned for pictures!

Impressionist Day in Moret

Yesterday we moored in Moret-sur-Loing. I remembered the town from our barge training as a fairytale village with mills, water wheels and swans swimming below the walled city. I couldn't wait to get off the boat and check out the heart of this medieval town. It was just as I remembered it except for one thing - where were the pictures on the walls of the buildings? When we were here last, reproductions of the paintings of Alfred Sisley, an English Impressionist, adorned the sides of buildings illustrating what the artist had seen while he painted. I'd been delighted to find a new-to-me artist and one who painted Moret, the river, the canal and of course barges back in the late 1800's. I walked on the cobblestone streets looking at buildings. Nothing. I headed across town to the Tourist Information Office and in my best French tried to ask where the reproductions were. The man behind the counter immediately called a woman over who spoke perfect English. "Ah. The paintings on the walls were done to celebrate one hundred years since he died here. That was in 1899." I nodded. "We were here in 1999, that's right. Where are they?" She sighed. "The pictures on the walls faded away. We have a map here where you can walk and see small reproductions of the sites." I took one, and on a quest followed in the footsteps of Sisley. I framed the scenes with my camera and shot paces he painted: the cathedral, the banks of the Loire where woman washed clothes, the bridge into town, the canal, and the lock next to where we were moored. This morning, we left as the mist burned off the canal, glided past the poplar stand where Sisley stood with his palette, painting what he saw. Read more about Sisley at : http://www.impressionniste.net/sisley_alfred.htm