Getting
Off – Do Follow the Rules
So Sunday morning we prepare to set off downstream
now towards Chaumont. We had said to the
lock-keeper on Thursday that we might leave at 9.30am but, needing to take one
car ahead to Chaumont, we decided 11am would be better. Our destination that day was Rolampont, just
10 kms and six locks. We are now on a
manual section, and need a lock-keeper to go with us, unlike the automatic
section coming up we have completed on our own. Glyn rings the control centre
at St Dizier and they confirm no problems with leaving at 11am.
The run up in the car to Chaumont was easy. The Capitainerie is happy that we park there
until Tuesday, and we are back at Langres by 1030. As we get back to the boat there is a little
note taped on to the side flap, in perfect English.
“Good
Morning. It’s not possible to start at
11h00 – It’s only possible at 9h30 or tomorrow.
You can call 06 24 69 00 94. VNF.”
But it’s already 10h30.
When Glyn gets back to the boat after taking delightful
messages and phone calls wishing him “Happy Father’s Day” he is far from
happy. He calls the number and 10
minutes of “to and fro” take place. Simplified
this went:
"Morverc’h
Here. We are not happy that we can’t
depart at 11h00 as agreed this morning.
You should have confirmed yesterday.
But
St Dizier confirmed this morning, or we could have been available at 9h30.
St Dizier aren’t here and they don’t
know what work and staff we have.
We only have two staff.
That’s
fine but we were assured and I am more than a bit annoyed.
Well, don’t be annoyed with me.
No.
With St Dizier. Why did they confirm if
they did not know?
Miscommunication. They
don’t always know the position on the ground.
This
really causes us problems. Is nothing
possible today?
We are fully booked up. Possibly this afternoon we can find some time
but not for very long.
We only want to get to Rolampont.
Well maybe we can start this morning but
only until 11h45. Can you start now?
Yes,
in 5 minutes.
OK, I’ll
see what I can do but you’ll have to stop at 11h45 wherever you are.
And in 2 minutes our excellent VNF man arrives to
take us as far as can he can by 11h45 – just 50 minutes.
We do two locks (out of six) and our time is
up. We have tried to go speedily and
have passed a fantastic swing bridge at Jorquenay but unfortunately with no
time take pictures. But at the second
lock we pass another boat with a student lock-keeper. Our lock-keeper talks to
her and then gets on his phone. What do
we do now, we ask, when he comes back to us?
It’s OK I’ll take you all the way to Rolampont. We’ll have to work
through lunch.
And good as his word he gets us all the way there,
where we arrive in two short hours at 13h00.
We thank the lock-keeper profusely and ask him to have a drink on
us. He points out the mooring at
Rolampont, but says there is not much space there.
Fun
at Rolampont and Real Warmth at Foulain
In fact there is no real space at all, and the banks
on either side are too high and rough for us to moor there. We can by swinging around just get our rear
deck on the quay, but that is very high.
We can get off but the dogs can’t.
A very helpful Dutch couple moored there help us to fix to the bank with
the stern at the end of the quay. We
swing and manoeuvre and finally get into place where we mount the gangplanks so
that the dogs can get off. It’s all a
bit Heath Robinson at the end of the quay, but it works.
Getting Ashore at Rolampont
Otherwise Rolampont is very nice spot. It is now getting very hot - 30ºC – but luckily
this spot also has shade. And it has
free electricity, a toilet block and picnic tables. After walking the dogs, having a doze, and
similar such essential boating duties, we prepare a delightful supper in the
shade of the trees.
Supper in the Shade
We ponder on getting off the quay / bank next
morning. We have promised the
lock-keeper 9h00 at the next lock, “à l’heure”.
We need to allow 30 minutes to the lock, and another 20 we think to
disengage from the bank, get all of us back on board and turn the boat around. In fact Linda takes off the front rope and
can easily walk back to the gangplanks and board while the wind gently blows
the boat around 180º and in five minutes we are perfect position with no work
whatsoever.
Our next destination is Foulain, just 15 kms but 8
locks. It is a gentle stroll. The mooring is much, much easier with fields
of cut and long grass for the girls to run around in. It is wide open, however, with no shade as
the bright sunshine raises the temperature to 33ºC. It is also humid, and we are beginning to
broil. The River Marne nearby provides
some coolness but too little and too far away.
The River Marne at Foulain
The Mooring at Foulain
Nevertheless we pass a beautiful evening, and in the
cool later stroll up to the chateau, unsure whether we are on private or public
land. A fascinating array of
architecture. Chris has her camera, but
we don’t have ours.
Next morning Glyn and the dogs are stirring early,
while the rest of the world sleeps.
Topsy has a run in the long grass, when – horror – 6h50 and four workmen
with strimmers arrive and start attacking the long grass. Glyn screams at Topsy to get back to the
boat, which she does, while the strimmers are followed by a sit-on
grass-cutter. By 7am everyone is up,
wondering what the noise is, and marvelling at the early morning dedication of
French workers.
Early Morning Call at Foulain
Who’s cut my grass?
A visit to the boulangerie, and we have croissants
for breakfast, and then set off for Chaumont, capital of the Haute Marne. We are now entering a zone of many lift
bridges. The one at Luzy is intriguing
as it lifts from both ends evenly, unlike the normal cantilever.
The Lift Bridge at Luzy
Baking
at Chaumont, Before the Fireworks
So we are on our way around the final hills to
Chaumont. Here the valley – still in the
upper Marne – is steep and wooded on one side, and not much wider on the
other. Sun trap and wind tunnel, but we
are enjoying the glorious sun, just perfect in the morning when in the shade.
Shaded Glens Before Chaumont
The locals also seem to be enjoying the beautiful
morning with a young rider gracefully gliding along the tow path with little
more than a light shift.
Horse Riding in the Shade
Then, what was that?
There were two boys on that bridge and they’ve disappeared with a
splash. Temporary slamming the boat into
reverse we wonder what has happened and where they are.
Crumbs, Who Just Jumped off that bridge?
No more than dare devil diving! They were far enough away (just) from the
boat, but any hiccup and we could have had some serious trouble. We capture (on camera that is) this young
tyke as he makes his escape.
Daredevils in the Woods
We are still amongst the trees as we circle around
the bottom of the hill at Chaumont.
Although the departmental capital (prefecture) this is quite a small
town, and the canal passes around the bottom of the hill to the small port at
Maladière on the other side. (With this name below the walls of the town we
wonder what function it had in earlier times.)
The Cut into Chaumont
Just the last few locks before David and Chris will
leave us. David takes the helm for the
last few locks and glides us gently through this beautiful stretch.
Navigating the Last Lock
From Foulain we have locked together with the Pommard. Roger the skipper and his partner originally
hale from Savoie, but he has spent most of his life overseas, the longest
stretch being 18 years in New Caledonia where he was a boat builder – but
wooden boats only. This is a genuine
ship’s carpenter. He is easy to travel
with. An old hand he is not precious
about his boat. But getting the two of
us in the lock together, with the time limits of these automatic locks,
requires some practice and skill. The lock is full with both boats in there.
In Without Hitting
It is now boiling hot again. 34-35ºC. The fans are working overtime in the boat,
but having only a marginal effect. We
complained about the rain in the early Spring so why not complain about the
heat as we approach mid-summer!
For most of the afternoon we retire to rest or chat
with other boat owners like Roger, or Richard and Sophie who are moored next
door on the Souvenir. From Farnham
in Surrey they are making their way to Paris but have had bow thruster problems
(not only us then – though touch wood ours has been brilliant since Simon
finally put it right) and have been holed up for a week. But they will have it done tomorrow and be on
their way on Thursday.
We have supper on the lawns of the port, with a
beautiful bottle of Chablis courtesy of David and Chris, and have an easy
evening as they have the long drive back to Calais tomorrow.
We wanted a reasonably early start, but our ears and
eyes confound us. 6h50 (yes, exactly
ten-to-seven again) and the grass-cutters are out again. We think it’s different grass-cutters but
begin to wonder if we are being stalked.
They Are Stalking Us – Another early
Morning Call
But it is a beautiful morning, and the family of
ducklings on the canal lend a lovely feeling to being here. It’s still cool (ish) in the morning, but it
looks like another scorcher later on.
Ducks in the Morning
After breakfast Chris and David load up, and make a
fond farewell. Shady and Topsy are going
to miss them almost as much as we will.
Chris and David hope we will all survive in the heat.
A Fond Farewell
For the rest of the morning we stock up from the
local (rather excellent) Le Clerc to provide for our trip down to St Dizier and
Vitry. As we come out of the supermarket
the heat hits you. We want to use some of
the day to drive down to Froncles and look at the moorings ahead of us. The guide book is not always reliable. But we leave this until 5pm as it is just too
hot.
Checking
out the Land Ahead
At 5pm off we set with the dogs in the back. At least the air conditioning is cool for
them. There is supposed to be a “halte
nautique” at Vraincourt, but we cannot find it.
We repair back to Viéville where there is a small quay but it is jam
packed. We see a German boat (flying
also the Berlin bear) and ask how it is mooring here. They are all permanent moorings, he explains
to us through our limited German, and this was the only vacant spot he could
find – not quite long enough for us.
What about Vraincourt, we ask?
“Gar nicht” he explains. So it
really doesn’t exist.
We potter on up to Froncles, where similarly the
quay is crowded, though here most of the boats are moving. We bump into Pamela and David on the Lea Crest, who give us the lowdown. We also chat to Berndt and Marion from
Stuttgart on holiday in a camper van, whom we met at Langres. They are pleased to chat again, though alas
they are back at work next Monday.
The skies begin to darken a little. It is 6.15pm.
We didn’t put our boat flaps down and now as there seems to be some rain
on the way we make our goodbyes to Pamela and David, Berndt and Marion, and
head back to Chaumont. 6.30pm and the
sky is like midnight (literally). Glyn
is having trouble driving in the dark and Linda takes over. By 6.40pm all hell breaks loose. Horrific wind and vicious rain. The noise of the thunder is horrendous, and
sheet lightning rakes the sky. The dogs
in the back of the car are not happy.
The
Eye of the Storm
We are now
off the route nationale and on the approach road to Chaumont. It is still very, very dark but trees, or
major limbs of them, are strewn all over the road and cars are zig-zagging to
avoid them. The driving is hairy. It is still very dark. Nothing changes on the
circular road around the town or on the hill down to Maladière. There are
literally trees everywhere.
We get back to the port at 7.05pm. We cannot believe that has only been 25
minutes. At the port there are two fire
engines. There seems to be a fire in one
of the houses.
We get ourselves and the dogs on board as quickly as
possible. The dogs are both distressed
though they show it in different ways. Topsy
buries herself beneath the sofa, while Shady hugs tightly to Linda’s legs.
Then we discover the fridge is off. No electricity! We switch to “inverter” and luckily there is
no problem with power from the batteries.
Next morning we discover from Sophie that when an
electrical cable came down it was like a fireworks display outside the port,
and now the port and the whole hamlet of Maladière is without power.
No
Navigation Today
8am and Glyn is walking the dogs and Richard and
Sophie on the Souvenir are finally setting off on their downstream trip. They have unmoored and are under way (and
Glyn is on the opposite bank) when a VNF van arrives and a young man jumps out
waving his arms. “Aucune navigation
aujourd’hui” he shouts. The canal in
both directions is blocked by broken trees.
They will have teams out to clear away as much as possible but no-one
can navigate today. Richard and Sophie
return to their mooring. The gods are
not smiling on them this week.
Thursday and we all sit in port, no power and no
certainty about what will happen next.
The sapeurs are guarding the
entrance to the port where a downed electrical cable is hanging dangerously
loose. For some reason the Douanes are there too. (Not sure what customs officers are to do
with this!) And then cherry pickers
arrive.
Cherry Pickers Trying to Restore
Electricity
They work all day, and indeed until 2am the next
morning. During the afternoon the VNF
contact comes back to us all. Tomorrow (Friday)
boats can go upstream to Langres, but they will have to go in pairs. Alas downstream there will still be no
navigation. So now (but even more
importantly for Sophie and Richard) we are stuck here another day, along with
Belgian colleagues on the Cirrus, and a British/American
couple on the Saskia. The latter want
to get to Paris by the end of the month. Wow!
The Marne widens here alongside the canal and is in
reasonable flow, but the damage on Wednesday night was more caused more by wind
than rain. The river is not unruly, at least not at 6.30 on Friday morning.
The Marne widening below the hills
of Chaumont on Friday morning
Later the lady Capitainerie comes to tell us they
won’t charge us for Thursday but we will have to pay for Friday. We don’t argue. We learn that in a town of only 26,000
inhabitants one insurance company alone has already received 400 claims from
Wednesday’s damage.
We do a little shopping, then in the afternoon Glyn
decides to take the car to Froncles in the hope that we can cruise down to
there tomorrow. He rings VNF and they
are happy for him to park in their yard at Froncles until we get the boat
through. It is only 25 kilometres (15
miles) but he hadn’t counted on the tow path being closed as well as the
canal. Of course so. They are working on it to clear the canal.
The road he has to follow has more than few hillocks
on it, but really not that bad (see pictures in next blog). He takes two hours to cycle the 25kms. Not that fit after all. But when he is back Linda has confirmation
that we can get off tomorrow. Chaumont
is a lovely town, but after 4 unsettling days we will be pleased to be on our
way.
The TV that evening is full of the flooding of the
grotto at Lourdes. Even a presidential
visit, and promises of urgent action to re-open it. Poor old Chaumont has to sort itself
out. They need a maiden here to have
some peculiar dreams!
