Honfleur to Le Havre

The end of the road!

Saturday 27 August

It was blowing hard the next morning, and fatally, we decided to go anyway.  The lock was windy and turbulent and once we’d got tied up the lock master shouted at us to move forward as there were other ships coming in, so we had to untie and move forward – a very bad move.  Two big ships came in and tied up opposite us (so we needn’t have moved forward).  When the gates opened, all hell broke loose.   This violent sea came crashing into the lock, the two big boats went out causing even more turbulence and we bobbed like a cork in a bath.  Our starboard bow light was snapped off the pulpit but otherwise, miraculously, we escaped harm, and managed to get out of the lock, trembling.

The wind and sea state were far worse than we’d imagined.  (Is it so long since we were at sea that we’ve forgotten everything?)  There was no question of putting the sails up and we continued motoring, but after about half an hour the engine conked out.  Lovely!

We figured (correctly) the problem was that the fuel was not feeding through.  The violent motion must have caused air and dirt to get pushed into the system and it had blocked.  We put a sail up and started tacking slowly back and forth within the channel and then set about the uncomfortable business of engine work, trying for the next eight horrible hours to resolve the problem.  We changed the filters and bled the system but obviously did it incorrectly, because we just couldn’t get it to work and didn’t have enough spare filters to do it again.  There was diesel sloshing around on the floor and all over Mike but it wouldn’t go through the motor!

The motor had stopped at about 12 noon and by 8 pm we despaired.  We knew the forecast for that evening and the next day were similar if not worse and it seemed we were never going to get the engine going.  We had long since abandoned any idea of going to Ouistreham and had decided to stay close to Le Havre.  We figured that we could get ourselves to the harbour entrance (we had the wind and tide pushing us in anyway) and then needed someone in a strong dinghy to bring us into the marina.  I telephoned Garry who texted me all the numbers he could find for the marina or the harbour master but there was no reply to any of them – it was too late.  Finally, Garry phoned the French Lifeboat service –‘ Les Sauveteurs en Mer’, who telephoned us.  We were a bit horrified as our lives were not actually in danger, but there seemed no other option.

I told them our idea that we could get to the entrance if someone could meet us but they said No, we should stay out at sea and someone would come.  At 9.00 pm they came in a large steel motor boat, threw us a tow rope which we attached and they then proceeded to drag us along the coastline for an hour.  It was a horrible trip being dragged through these waves head on and I finally telephoned to ask what was going on.  They said there were big ships coming out of the harbour and it would be dangerous to enter so we had to wait.  Well, Mike had been watching the harbour entrance and saw no big ships except one just before we finally got towed in!!

Once just inside the harbour, still in very turbulent waters they brought their large steel hull alongside Forever, one officer boarded us and they tied the two boats together.  We bounced violently against their hull, smashing our teak toe rail and the gel coat all along our boat on the starboard side.  We feared the mast might come down and I heard one of their officers express the same fear.  We put every fender we had on the one side but they were utterly useless.  I gave up trying to hold one of our big fenders between the boats and just sat uselessly, clinging onto the deck and watched my boat being crushed.  It was the worst feeling in the world and we were completely powerless to do anything.  Finally, after what seemed an interminable time (perhaps ten minutes) someone produced a real giant mega-fender which held the two boats apart, but it was far too late by then.   The damage had been done.  And anyway, by then, we had moved into less turbulent waters, which is surely only when the two boats should have been brought together.  We did, after all have the entire enormous harbour to ourselves – hadn’t we been dragged along the coast for an hour for that very reason???

They now brought us into the marina, the skipper took an inordinately long time to deposit us against a pontoon, they tied us up in an alarmingly haphazard and unprofessional manner and then invited us aboard their boat where they proudly presented us with a bill for €690 (two hours at €345 per hour) for being ‘saved’.  They were at great pains to explain about how they’d had to wait for some big ships to leave the harbour which is why it all took so long and also informed us that we had been in ‘extremely dangerous’ waters at the time of rescue as there are sandbanks and rocks in that area.  Well, yes, it gets to low depths at very low Spring tide, but this was not Springs and we’d never had depths of less than 14 feet.   We did know where we were, though they tried to imply that we didn’t.  When we mentioned the damage to our boat, they gave that Gallic shrug and said ‘don’t worry, the insurance will pay!’

Needless to say, we didn’t have €690 lying around in cash and they wouldn’t take a card, so were told to write to the President of the society and get his bank details so we could make payment.  We promised to do so, thanked them politely for their services and wished them goodnight.  They pointed out the shower block and told us we could get in without a key as it was manned.  It was after 11 pm by then, so having washed as much diesel as I could from the floor, we set off on the long walk for the shower block, met a couple of chaps on the way who gave us the code to enter the showers, which were not manned.  (Friendly chaps, typical sailors, they wanted to linger about on the pontoon in the middle of the night and chat about our little drama but we were too tired and cut them short as politely as we could.)  When we got to the showers we discovered one needs to purchase a ‘jeton’ for a ten minute shower!  We walked back, but now didn’t have the code to get back onto the pontoons so Mike climbed the fence and let me through.  Returning to the boat we had a brief wash, a long drink of water and fell into bed.  Neither of us had eaten all day and Mike had drunk almost nothing.

That qualified as the worst day of the trip – absolutely.  And there we were, so close to the end of this journey which has been awful at times but quite wonderful most of the time.  The journey is now definitively over – we will not go on to Carentan as planned, but will get the repairs done here and then leave Forever on the hard a little way up a canal at Tancarville.

In the meantime, here we are, still parked where they left us at the end pontoon of the marina at Le Havre – at low tide the pontoons are surrounded by mud banks, which is so weird.   The seafront area of Le Havre has to be one of the ugliest in the world – a long jagged row of uniform pale grey apartment blocks, but once you get behind that it is an attractive city.

The damage to Forever is horrific.  This photo shows just a small section.

Following a recommendation I’d found on the internet, we contacted Stephan Reiset at Chantier Naval du Havre et Manche (CNHM) who speaks excellent English and he and a carpenter colleague are quoting on repairing the damage.  There is a hold up on the teak which has been ordered but will only arrive after 26 September.  The marina here is rather expensive, so, lucky for us, Stephan wants to do the work at his yard on the Quai de Brésil, where he says we can moor and live aboard for nothing.  Whew on that one.  We are moving to this inner basin on Monday.  He ordered plenty of Volvo fuel filters for us which arrived on Thursday.  We did a double change of both pre-filter and filter to ensure that all the dirt was out of the system and the motor now works perfectly – hurrah.

In the meantime, I telephoned our insurers Pantaenius who advised that with Third Party there is nothing they can do for us, but our policy includes free legal aid and we can sue.  Our darling friend Jean Pierre (Gayatri) who we met in Port Saint Louis and who is a lawyer has agreed to handle things for us here and has written a letter to the President of the Society of Sauveteurs en Mer.  I have no great faith in the legal system and taking on an organisation like this won’t be easy, but JP knows his stuff and seems confident. 

People from all corners of this vast marina stop by to have a look at the damage and have a good old natter (all very good for my French).  I love sailors – they are usually rather resourceful people who like to do all their own work and as a result they all consider themselves ‘experts’ in most fields.  They aren’t, of course, but it is remarkably easy to rope in assistance when you need it.  We get a lot of sympathy and have heard a few other horror stories about the Sauveteurs – they have a very bad reputation here which is a shame because in principle it is a good service.   

On Friday night there was a party of about 16 people on a couple of neighbouring boats and we were invited along for aperitifs.  Our hostess, Eveline, who spoke very good English, told us that this large group go every year to the Caribbean where they hire yachts and cruise for two or three weeks – they have been doing this for ten years now.  We think it must be fun to belong to such a strong group of friends who all share the same hobby.  (Well, we do have such a group of buddies but they are scattered in all corners of the earth.)  On Saturday morning they left on four boats to go to Dives-sur-Mer, which is just west of Deauville – just for the night and then back again.  I think they are brave as there was fog in the morning. 

Our friends Garry and Hilary (March Hare) texted to say they were in Carentan on Wednesday (lucky toads), St Vaast on Thursday and were leaving on Friday for the UK, but had had to turn back to Cherbourg because of heavy fog.  Nasty stuff.

Sunday 4 September

This weekend there is a festival in honour of the sea.  After dinner last night we walked to the centre of town by the fishermen’s market – there was an outdoor concert where we listened to some excellent rock music by a band called ‘Red Lezard’, fun stalls and games for children, restaurants and bars often with a small band of live music, and maritime displays.   The rain held off and it was fun, though very quiet and civilized and, to our surprise, it all came to an end at 11pm.

Today there was a procession of boats in the Avant Port and a benediction was made to the sea.  Unfortunately, it was cold, grey and windy and the photos are not as pretty as they might be, plus my camera only catches a small portion of the port.

The summer is well and truly over, autumn has gusted in and our River Sailing has come to an end.  Despite all our troubles, we’ve had a fantastic time.  The canal/river trip is wonderful and a fabulous way to see the interior of France though I personally wouldn’t recommend the south to north route for a sailing boat.  Hire a barge.

As young Stephan (whose handsome face bears scars from a serious road accident) quotes: ‘Only those who do nothing don’t get hurt’ - a French expression.

Rouen to Honfleur

Slaves to the tide

We’d never really given any thought to the city of Rouen, but discovered that it is very old (actually mediaeval) and amazingly beautiful.  We wished we could spend more time here but found ourselves slaves to the tide.  It is recommended that the trip from Rouen to the sea (Le Havre or Honfleur) should be taken in one day and yachts are prohibited from travelling during darkness.  So, if we didn’t leave within the next few days, we would have to wait nearly two weeks, and Mike was keen to get to Carentan by the end of the month.

Tuesday 23 August

Before re-stepping the mast we wanted to fit a new VHF antenna and a mechanical wind indicator which we bought at the chandlery.  The men in the yard helpfully lifted our mast off the deck and set it on shore for four hours whilst we re-attached the spreaders and tried to sort out our mast fittings.  Typically, neither the VHF antenna nor the wind indicator was compatible with the fittings already on Forever’s mast head.   Mike fitted the base of the wind indicator but we will have to make some amendments to the actual contraption.  We went ahead with the re-stepping of the mast (a terrifying business but managed without accident) and the next day exchanged the VHF antenna for one that fits at deck level.  Our super kind neighbour, Frédéric, spent most of Wednesday helping Mike to fit it on the back of the boat.

Eric, our lovely marina manager lent me a pressure washer and I washed Forever’s decks.  We sorted the rigging and hoisted our foresail and everyone who’d helped us came for drinks that evening.  Later we went for dinner - Moules Frites volontiers (eat as much as you like) for €7.45 (Mike thought he’d died and gone to heaven) with Eric, Frédéric and his wife Chantal.  It was a good evening - we chose the blue cheese sauce with our mussels and it was delicious.  The secret of finding good restaurants is in knowing local people, of course.

Thursday 25 August

Arrival in Honfleur should be at high tide, which was 9pm on Thursday – also sunset.  Allowing 11 hours for the trip, we left Rouen at 10am, escorted out of the basin by Eric.

A very short while later, the internal cooling system developed a sudden leak of fluid and we spent a rather hysterical half hour, Mike trying to repair the leak whilst I held Forever in a slow tidal drag back towards the marina.  A couple on bikes saw us and started shouting at me that we were on the wrong side of the river and I shouted back that the motor was ‘en panne’ and that we didn’t have the power to cross to the other side.  They looked awfully worried.  Happily, there was no traffic about and we slid along well over to the side and out of anyone’s way.  Eventually, Mike repaired the problem, we turned around and continued on our way but a valuable amount of time had been lost.  We’d started the trip against the tide, then it turned and we hurtled along at 6 to 7 knots and then it turned again and we slowed right down to 3 knots, with the result that we finally arrived in Honfleur two hours after high tide, an hour and a half after dark and in the pouring rain.  Par for the course for the Banfields! 

We entered the lock into the harbour and after a long wait got locked through easily.  There were floating bollards, it was dead calm and we only dropped about one metre.  Once in the outer harbour it was confusing and there seemed to be no places, but there was a line of boats rafted up double everywhere except one nice big English motor boat, March Hare, so hoping they were nice people we went alongside and knocked tentatively.  In spite of the unsociable hour, Garry and Hilary were lovely and welcoming - Garry helped us tie up (getting thoroughly soaked, poor chap) - and we had breakfast with them the next morning.  We’d originally intended to leave Honfleur at the 7am high tide for Carentan, but were so tired the next morning we decided to rest for a day.  Despite quite a bit of rain, we managed to visit the town which is terribly pretty but absolutely crammed with tourists and tourist shops, endless restaurants and dozens of wonderfully interesting art galleries.

That evening Garry and Hilary came for drinks on Forever and we discussed our trips.  We’d now missed the last good day to get to Carentan in one day, and the wind had moved from southerly to westerly (i.e. right on the nose) so on Garry’s recommendation decided to do it in stages, starting with Ouistreham, 17 miles away.  March Hare were also heading west along the coast but intended to leave the day after for Deauville.  Garry very kindly prepared all the tidal information we needed for the area from Le Havre to Cherbourg, so we could plan our voyages properly.  We agreed we’d probably all meet up in Carentan by the end of the week.  Ha, we wish.

Paris to Rouen

Wednesday 17 August

Leaving Paris, the river snakes south west and then north east passing through endless high rise suburbs, factories and industrial areas, there being no clear cut end of Paris and beginning of the outlying areas – Boulogne-Billancourt, St Cloud, Neuilly, Clichy and St Denis.  When we eventually got clear the river was beautiful and the early autumn colouring had begun to vary the dense green forests.  The sides of the river were filled with a fascinating variety of live-aboard barges and boat houses.  We’d heard the usual horror stories of big barges and commercial ships travelling at speed and rocking the boat, but there were very few and, like in the Rhône, they left very manageable wakes.

The River Seine is less hospitable than the Marne or Saone from the point of view of stopping places and the first suitable one we could find on our chart was at Rueil-Malmaison (PK45), 45 kilometres from Paris.   After the Arsenal marina lock we had one other lock to contend with (Suresnes), no problem, though we had rather a long wait outside and the lockkeeper refused to answer on the VHF.  At Rueil-Malmaison there was a Halte Fluvial pontoon on the left bank with two boats already installed but there was also another pontoon on the opposite, island, side of the river - empty.  Information I’d found on a blog indicated that one shouldn’t tie up on the island side of the river as it was frequented by fishermen and ‘others’.  Well, there was no one there so we did tie up and it was perfectly nice and quiet all night long.

Thursday 18 August

The next day we covered 75 kilometres and took in two more locks (Bougival and Andrésy) and stopped for the night on the small arm of the river behind l’Ile de Limay.  Our chart showed an unencumbered entrance to the arm but on arrival we found it festooned with confusing buoys in green, red and yellow, some stripey, some plain.  My brave captain figured it out and we snaked our way through without mishap.  After that the channel was clear and pretty, passing through a couple of ancient (one broken) bridges before coming to the little marina.  Not wanting to pay for a berth, we tied up on the very rickety and broken public pontoon, nudging three young fishermen off.  Two of them, bold and curious young boys of about 10 or 12, hung around until we invited them in to see the boat.  They were suitably impressed. 

It was a very nice peaceful spot, but after we’d tied up we realised that the bank was infested with hundreds of rats and mice.  We closed the boat up tight, but even so worried all night that we’d be invaded – we weren’t.

Friday 19 August

On Friday we covered 82 Kilometres and another two locks (Méricourt and Notre Dame de la Garenne), passed the very beautiful town of Les Andelys

and finally, late in the evening, arrived at Muids where we found the promised small pontoon off a very nice little village.  There was a fisherman and his wife sitting on the pontoon who made no effort to move as we slowly approached, but at the last minute he beckoned us welcomingly and we all shared the pontoon.  He placed his two rods either side of the boat.  We got into friendly conversation and later I asked if they knew whether there was a bakery in the village.   They said they didn’t know, having only just arrived that day themselves.  Leaving his rods out they disappeared into their nearby caravan for dinner whilst we had ours and about an hour later Madame arrived with a half loaf of bread which she offered to us.  We’d not really been bothered about the bread, but I was very touched by the kindness of the thought and we accepted gratefully.

The next morning we woke to a thick fog covering the whole river - you couldn’t see further than twenty yards.  Our boat (and everyone else’s) is constantly laced with spider webs and that morning the heavy dew rendered them quite beautiful.

Knowing that we are not very visible to the big ships in fog (being a small plastic boat!), we decided we’d better stay put and took a walk through the little village, where we found more fresh bread for the day.  By 9 o’clock the sun was burning its way through and by about 10am it looked clear enough to navigate so we returned to the dock and set off.  This was later than we’d hoped for this our last day, as we were taking in OUR VERY LAST LOCK (or so we thought) at Amfreville after which the Seine becomes tidal and I wasn’t a hundred percent sure what the state of tide would be.

The trip was reasonable and the fog cleared, but after a bit a very large container ship bore up behind us travelling only marginally faster than us.  Eventually, we moved over and slowed down so it could pass us.  This was the start of what was going to be a bad day for us.  It wasn’t one ship but three – two container loads being pushed by a smaller tug. 

Very shortly after passing us the container ship came to a halt in a narrow part of the channel (we tried to overtake but got warned off).  The front container split off and a new tug took charge of it, so there were now two separate ships and the front one took off around the bend and went into the lock.  We circled around forlornly behind the second ship and waited.   Eventually someone from the second ship came out and told us we could go into the lock behind him in half an hour at 12.30pm, so we parked off against a wall and had some lunch.  Then a Dutch registered barge arrived and we all sat there for over an hour.  The container ship entered the lock, then the Dutch barge and we came in last having been told to tie up side by side with the barge.  Both the container ship and the barge left their engines running full blast throughout and before we’d managed to tie up properly (on the impossible bollards) the wash from the container ship pushed us violently backwards.  What a pig’s breakfast!  We swung around all over the show and ended up against the barge whereupon the Dutch skipper kindly took a rope from our bow and tied us to his boat to prevent us hitting the back gates.  The container skipper came out and shouted something at us but we couldn’t hear - we later figured he’d been telling us to put our motor in forward gear, an idea that never entered either of our heads, embarrassingly enough.  That’s what panic does.  The Dutch skipper was sympathetic but entertained enough to take a video of our struggles!  Anyhow, we survived the experience and so did Forever, but for us that was the worst of all the locks – just when we thought we had the whole bloody thing taped.  Thank god it was our last – or so we thought.

By now it was rather later than we’d hoped, but the tide was waning and we moved along quite nicely.  The Dutchman had said the tide was turning at 4pm but it actually turned at 3pm and we started to hit the reverse tide sooner than we’d hoped.  The two containers joined up again and the enormous threesome managed to pass us again later that afternoon.  We waved politely at the skipper whilst mouthing our rude thoughts.

Still some way out of Rouen at 4.30 that afternoon, a Gendarmerie Nationale speedboat came past us, very fast, setting up enormous waves which rocked Forever violently.  The mast didn’t fall, but the weight on the stainless steel pulpit caused the metal to buckle on one side.  We were, naturally, furious but the boat was long gone.  The police are supposed to be there to protect you from bad things, not cause them.

The rest of our journey passed without further drama.  We motored through Rouen and moored in the ‘La Crea’ marina in the Bassin St Gervais, near the docks.  The marina is wonderful, small but well protected from wind, waves and tide, inexpensive and has all facilities including free wifi, free washing machine and dryer and ICE!!!  The two gentlemen who manage the marina, Eric and Jean-Marie are charming and extraordinarily helpful.

In the Rouen marina, mast still down.

PARIS!!!

PARIS

Sunday 14 August

What can I say about Paris?  It is still the most beautiful and most vibrant city I have ever visited.  It has changed in many ways since I lived here nearly 40 years ago, but of course much of it is still exactly the same.  The timing of our visit was not ideal – the middle of August when there are simply millions of tourists (both French and foreign) teeming about all the monuments and filling out the spaces in road side cafes and restaurants.  However, by some miracle, the weather turned perfect for the duration of our stay – neither hot nor cold, simply balmy with blue skies and puffy white clouds.

Our first afternoon, after check in, we wandered up the river to the islands – Île de la Cité and Île Saint Louis.  There’s a new project on – turning the banks of the Seine in this area into ‘Les Plages de Paris’ – the beaches of Paris.  It was great fun, lots of activities going on all up and down the banks, including a ‘Thé Dansant’ alongside sun worshipers on sun loungers and a jazz band with the magnificent Notre Dame as a back drop.

We wandered back via the Hôtel de Ville where we bought a cd from an Ecuadorian street band called Relaxy Pan Pipes

and watched crowds of youngsters playing volleyball.

                                                                             

Monday 15 August

The 15^th of August is a public holiday (something religious) regrettably, so the streets were once again heaving with tourists.  We took our bikes and explored my old stomping ground of Saint Germain des Prés in the 6th arrondisement.   We visited the two streets where I used to live, Rue Jacob and Rue du Dragon and the famously expensive Les Deux Magots (which I seldom patronised).

Some familiar old landmarks have gone and others have been somewhat ‘gilded’, like the beautiful Place Furstemberg which now has a couple of modern sculptures crowding its sedate simplicity.  It was one of our favourite spots in Paris and is still gorgeous – one just has to get used to all this very modern sculpture and wrought iron artwork (especially on skeletal metal frames).  As a matter of fact I like it very much, but it looks so odd bang up against the classic beauty of ancient architecture.

Then we went on to visit UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation), where I was underemployed and overpaid for four very happy years in the Seventies.  We tried to go in but being a public holiday it was closed for the day - the guard was most pleasant in turning us away and told me he regretted not being around when I worked there forty years ago! 

I actually managed to find what was the fantastic working man’s restaurant where I used to take an excellent three course lunch every day including a carafe of wine and coffee for the princely sum of £1 (dead cheap even in those days) but it has now been turned into a chic bar/cafe called Le Zig Zag. Bien sur.

Then, of course, we took in the Eiffel Tower......

........as well as numerous other fabulous landmarks on the long cycle back along the banks of the river.

Paris has been well adapted to cater for cycling, as a result of which there are thousands of cyclists.  Most streets have a two way dedicated cycle track, running alongside.....

.... but on the busier boulevards the cyclists have to share a lane with the buses(!).  Coming home that evening in the 5 o’clock traffic, which was hectic even on a so-called holiday, was terrifying - one foot skimming along the pavement trying desperately not to ricochet off the sides of the buses and pedalling like mad when a gap appeared, keeping a wary eye out for more aggressive cyclists (and roller bladers!) who would thread their way perilously through the buses and cars.  After a while one gets used to the adrenalin rush and you find yourself in danger of developing the same recklessly cocky attitude of the more experienced Parisian cyclists.  Mike certainly did so more than me and hurtled so far I lost him at one point.  When we finally came to a stop near the Arsenal my wrists ached from the strain of clutching the brakes and I felt rather surprised, and grateful, to have survived the journey without injury. 

We continued to wander the streets, found a good looking restaurant in the Bastille area and spent a fun evening sitting at the prime doorway table and, in typical Parisian style, watched the world go by.  I drank my first Kir, white wine with a splash of Creme de Cassis, in about 30 years whilst Mike had a beer followed by an unmemorable but inexpensive dinner.  When we got back to the marina we shared another bottle of wine with a nice English couple on a motor boat, Secret Harbour II, who live very near us back in the UK.  We swapped dvd’s for the night.

Tuesday was spent doing washing, blogging, meeting new people in the marina, finding out that the chandlery is closed for the month of August (of course it is) and exploring some more.

Paris is full of enchanting gems, like this doorway on the Quai des Celestins.

We did a little shopping including a bottle of cheap bubbly which we nailed that evening as Kir Royal aperitifs, then drank a bottle of wine with dinner.  After dinner we took a romantic walk across the Pont d’Austerlitz at sunset and strolled up the Quai St Bernard on the ‘rive gauche’ where we once again found a huge crowd dancing to live music.  It seemed impromptu, people both young and old joining in whenever they wanted, but the footwork was incredibly professional looking.  The crew and passengers of a large cruise ship looked on.

Returning to the boat, we finished the evening off with a couple of Irish coffees – a very good evening.

Wednesday morning we leapt on our bikes again and cycled via the terribly posh Rue de Rivoli to visit the Georges Pompidou Centre, bought a few postcards, paid our bill and (boo hoo) said goodbye to Paris, taking the lock out of the marina at 1.30 pm, and joined all the big boats and Bateaux Mouches trundling tourists up and down under the bridges in the trendy part of the river.  The bridges on the Seine in Paris are stunning and you only get to see some of the artwork when sliding under them by boat.

It didn’t take long before we started hitting the huge skyscrapers....

...and pretty soon we could have been in any large city in the world.  If we came in the posh and beautiful side of Paris, this was the less beautiful more industrial end that we passed through. 

It wasn’t long enough, but we both had a truly wonderful time in Paris and managed to see all the important things on our list.  For me it was a very nostalgic walk down memory lane and I loved sharing it with Mike.

Ferte-sous-Jouarre to Paris

Saturday 12 August. 

We arrived quite late in the evening and stopped one night at the Municipal Halte in Lagny.  Mike had to change the plug on our electric cord to get electricity, again – he’s quite a dab hand at that now and we have three different connections.

I had been carefully planning the last legs of this trip into Paris as we had been told how awful the big barges are – they travel very fast, creating a nasty wash and are not interested in moving over for small private boats.  A fair portion of the trip included narrow canals and as a sailing boat with deep draught, we were worried about this.  We’d been told the barges don’t operate on weekends, so we cleverly planned to do the busiest patch on Saturday and Sunday.  It was perfect - we never met one commercial barge, though we saw lots parked off on the sides of the river. 

On that leg we passed through another tunnel, only a short one of 286m, and five locks – all manned.  We are real fundis with the locks now and can adapt quickly to whatever new locking arrangement gets presented – and the variations seem endless!

Sunday 14 August.  The next day, we had our last four Marne locks and a 2 kilometre tunnel,

before turning off the Marne and into the Seine.  On our way in we passed through the beautiful leafy outskirts filled with luxurious homes.....

......and the homeless....

At the weekends, the lockkeepers close between 12.30 and 13.30 for lunch, so we managed (just) to get through our fourth lock by 12.30.  There is one last (fifth) lock to get into the Arsenal marina which we assumed (wrongly) would also be closed for lunch, so we took a slow and very pleasant cruise up the Seine to arrive at 2pm.  The waiting quay looked horribly rickety and had a small dinghy hanging off it so we were glad we hadn’t relied on that.  I called the marina on VHF 9 and no one answered but a few minutes later the green light came on beside the red light to indicate that the lock was preparing and we only had a few minutes to wait, sharing the river with various Bateau Mouches.  The view outside the marina is of the Isle St Louis and Notre Dame.  Pont Sully, in the foreground, is covered in awnings and obviously being renovated.

I can’t believe we are finally in Paris.

We arrived at the marina and checked in – a horrifying €38.50 per night, including water and electricity, showers, washing machines and driers (paid for separately) and a comfortable air conditioned lounge with large TV and dvd player, and free wifi.  In view of the cost, our planned four nights has been reduced to three, but never mind, I am so very happy to be here.  And to be fair, for two people to stay in the comfort of their own home slam bam in the centre of Paris, it really is good value. 

Cumieres to Ferte-sous-Jouarre

Sunday 7 August

We arrived at Chateau Thierry after five and a half hours and 5 locks.   The first couple of locks were enormously wide with floating pontoons which was marvellously easy, but the rest were the normal design.  All the locks are shallow and no problem.  At the first lock we were once again given a telecommande remote control to open the gates.  Not only is the Marne lovely, wide and deep, it is also practically weed-free so we no longer have to worry about the engine cooling system getting blocked.  We’d had dire warnings from other yachts of filters getting clogged up with weeds but the outside strainer on Forever must be very good because Mike has never found anything more than a few blades of grass in his filter.  The river is also remarkably free of traffic and we are lucky to meet two or three boats all day.

The sides of the river are thickly edged with large trees, but through the spaces we get glimpses of the intensely cultivated countryside stretching away to the horizon, foreshortened by gently rolling hills.  The land is a panoramic patchwork of vineyards, highlighted by the occasional field of corn or wheat and dense patches of forestation and studded with small villages and hamlets.  T he moisture laden light picks out every imaginable shade of green, relieved by the red and grey tiles of the houses.

We haven’t seen a cow in many days.  We also, happily, haven’t seen any industry on the banks of the Marne, unlike the Rhône, which was heavily littered with factories.  However, the bird life is prolific.  I have endlessly tried to get a good picture of the grey heron, and this is the best I could do.

At Chateau Thierry, there was a small pontoon, fully occupied by boats, and then a long wall.  Always unhappy about parking on a wall, we were circling hesitantly when the Luxembourg skipper on one of the boats on the pontoon beckoned us over and we gratefully moored up against him.  There was only one, very dodgy, electric point which our neighbour (Charles) was plugged into, but he had a triple adaptor and both the boat in front and we were plugged into that.  French electrics can be quite terrifying – and this is a Municipal Halte!

The chateau at Chateau Thierry has been destroyed, but the walls remain and we took a pleasant walk up the hill and through the ruins.   

The town seemed to have everything we needed.  We needed some bits of leather to replace the protective coverings on our spreaders, and found a little shop in town that made leather clothes.  The proprietor, Dan, was really helpful and he dug out the right strength of leather for us and gave us the off cuts we needed – no charge.  We also walked to the local Brico and bought a metre of good carpeting to replace Forever’s old and worn carpets.  There was a fuel station near the Halte so we bought a few jerry cans of diesel and did a good shop at a nearby Carrefour supermarket.  It was all very convenient.  The town was ancient in parts with interesting features.

          

Thursday 11 August

We’d been delaying our arrival in Paris, waiting to hear if friends were coming to join us, but now heard that they were no longer able to come, so we set off and arrived in the secluded Halte at Ferté sous Jouarre, tucked away in a small arm of the river.

We were lucky and the next day was market day, so we were able to get some good fresh produce.    The sun shone pleasantly for most of our day here so I took the opportunity of a clean and empty pontoon to cut and fit the new carpeting , though we’ve not yet glued it down.  It looks lovely. 

Ferté was typical of so many small French towns and in my opinion, absolutely charming.

The French are quite innovative with their floral arrangements.