More to come
Monthly Archives: May 2019
Heading for home (for the winter)
More to come
Moret-sur-Loing…. and Fontainebleau
More to come
Down the Loing
Mote to come
Marvellous Montargis
More to come
Canal de Briare
The first thing we had to do in moving from the Canal Latéral à la Loire onto the Canal de Briare was to cross the Loire River itself… across the 662-metre pont-canal built in the late 19th century with input from Gustave Eiffel. Built on 14 piers, its steel beam and channel hold about 13,000 tonnes of water. It’s not scary, being fairly wide and easily navigable, but it’s an impressive crossing all the same.
Our first stop past Briare was in the charming village of Ouzouer-sur-Trézé, with a delightful halte giving easy access to the village, its boulangerie and its impressive 12th-century Église Saint-Martin with massive flying buttresses.
Our next stop was quite a contrast, being in the natural surrounds of the Étang de Gazonne, at the summit of the canal. A lovely wild mooring beside the lake, watched over by the éclusier who was clearly in love with the place and acted as a kind of park ranger. We offered to buy his place but he indicated a strong reluctance. We don’t blame him!
After the sweet natural delights of Gazonne, we headed along the canal to Rogny-les-Sept-Écluse. Apart from being a delightful stop with many lovely walks, Rogny also displays the true genius and industry behind the construction of the Canal de Briare. Its original seven locks, built in the mid-17th century, were replaced by five locks conforming to the Freycinet gauge in the late 19th-century, but the original locks are an impressive monument. Apparently they involved 12,000 workers, bolstered by 6,000 soldiers when work was halted during the Thirty Years War. They were thoroughly ground-breaking when first built, and today provide a fabulous sight and an interesting walk to the summit – where we were lucky enough to find a walnut tree in full fruit. We joined a couple of locals in plundering it for its delicious bounty.
Our next stop was one of the true gems of our canal travels. Chatillon-Coligny, a town of about 2,000, is an absolute delight, with a pleasant mooring, interesting streetfronts, an old chateau (private), the vestiges of its old defensive moat system, a lovely 15th-19th century Eglise Saint-Peter et Saint-Paul, and a sweet old 16th-century salt granary, now a private residence. The town became a centre of Huguenot activity during the Wars of Religion, and boasts a “House of Hell” (Protestant) only a few doors up from the “House of Paradise” (Catholic). Chatillon is also known as the childhood home of the famous French writer Colette, whose house still stands in the town.
From Chatillon we travelled to the small village of Montcresson. Not much there, with a wild but pleasant mooring, although there was a lovely old 12th-century church, which apparently had a tunnel leading to the old convent (now demolished) – there are vestiges of the old vault still visible. The town is also interesting for its association with the MacMahon family, from Ireland, who came to France in the 17th century during the Glorious Revolution and who claimed descent from the kings of Ireland. Successive generations served in the French army and in 1873 Patrice de MacMahon was elected President of the French Republic, before his death in 1893 at this place.
Down the Loire
Leaving Digoin and crossing the Loire via the elevated pont-canal, we started our journey westwards down the Loire along the lateral canal that tracks the river as far as Briare. Our first stop was at Coulanges, a village without much but at least the halte had services and was very peaceful. We had both happy and sad encounters here…. we came across a wreath laid by the canal in memory of someone who had died – possibly, we thought, a drowning, given the location of the sad memorial. Our spirits were lifted soon afterwards by the sweet sounds of a lady singing French folk songs as she picked wild fruit from a tree by the canal.
We continued through a couple more pleasant days on the canal, witnessing the sacred, the profane and the quotidien. The sacred came in the form of a glimpse of the extensive complex of the Abbaye Notre Dame des Sept-Fons – a Cistercian monastery founded in 1132 that later joined to the Trappist order; it now houses around 90 monks, many of them novices from around the world. All we got to see as we passed by on the canal, in truth, was a wall and a gate – but from what we know it is a remarkable complex. The profane came very close by, in the form of a massive canalside foundry on the opposite bank. The quotidien, to our delight, was the éclusier at the last lock of the day before arriving in Beaulon, a wonderfully jovial fellow who unashamedly celebrated his love of the colour blue.
Beaulon proved to be a pleasant stopover – nice mooring with services, some interesting old homes, a chateau (privately owned, not accessible), plus the important thingsd in a small village… boulangerie, boucherie and epicerie with small café. We spent a couple of enjoyable days there, dreaming of re-opening the lovely ivy-clad restaurant that had closed down sometime earlier.
After Beaulon, we arrived in Gannay-sur-Loire, the new resting place for Eben Haezer for the three weeks we would be away visiting Jane’s family in Wales. We had originally hoped to reach the large port of Nevers for this, but a broken lock downstream forced us to choose here instead. To be honest, there was not much to Gannay; the free municipal mooring was limited to a maximum of 48 hours and the private canal-bank marina was somewhat over-priced for a place right off the beaten track with not much to offer in shopping, services or transport. Cést la vie, we made the best of it.
Although there was little in the way of shops, and we had to catch an expensive taxi to get to the rail station in Decize, Gannay was not completely devoid of charm and interest. The Romanesque church of Saint-Jean-Baptiste had unfortunately been extensively destroyed in the Revolution but had preserved its choir and stone vault and a carved statue of the Virgin. There was a very pleasant small café restaurant opposite the church, where we shared a meal with the New Zealand friends we had met in Digoin. There was an interesting relic of a linden tree in the main square by the church, originally planted in 1620 by Sully, Louis XIV’s grand voyer minister of state, part of a scheme to plant such trees in villages throughout France, to act as meeting points after Mass to discuss and manage the affairs of the parish, and to mark important road routes. This particular arbre de Sully had seen better days, having been damaged when the trailer of a lorry detached and smashed into it. The remains of its trunk have been preserved under its own little steeple. And we had a little friend visit us daily at our mooring – a coypu, a South American aquatic rodent introduced to Europe and now fairly common along the canals and rivers. We often see them swimming but this was the first time one had so fearlessly approached so close to us.
To get to Wales, we had to catch a taxi to Decize, then a train to Nevers, where we had reserved a hire car for the trip. We then left Gannay in the car on 6 August and travelled to Calais via Orléans, Chartres and Rouen, then to St Asaf via Dover and a funny little rural BnB in Huntley in Herefordshire. That trip, over three delightful weeks, is a story for another place. I returned a week before Jane to do some work on Eben Haezer before picking her up at the airport in Lyon, where she had flown from Manchester.
I was able to do some good restorative work on the boat while at Gannay, including some repairs to sections of the wheelhouse that had suffered timber rot, and a good coat of paint in various areas crying out for it. I was also able to fit new curtains to our bedroom windows which Jane’s Mum had made up for us in Wales.
Finally, on 30 August we left Gannay to continue our cruise down the Canal Latéral à la Loire.
After a break for the éclusier’s lunch at Saulx, we made an overnight stop on the canal outside Decize, then the next day on to Fleury-sur-Loire, a small village with a simple mooring but with services (water and electricity) and a cheap and cheerful café in a couple of marquees overlooking the canal.
After a couple of enjoyable days we headed into Nevers, a large town/small city, the capital of the Nièvre department in Bourgogne-Franche-Comté. We had intended to leave our boat here for the three weeks we would be in Wales visiting Jane’s family, but a broken lock meant we had to change plans and we would now be here for only a couple of days. The port here is large and wide, but with many boats, and we found a comfortable place on the edge of the marina, giving us privacy and all services on a new long pontoon.
The city itself is quite charming, or at least the older part of it near the river. It had once been an important depot for Julius Caesar during his campaigns against the Gauls (though he suffered its sacking by the Aedui at one stage). From the 16th century it became a notable centre for the manufacture of faience (tin-glazed earthenware pottery). This heritage is reflected in two museums dedicated to faience, one of which was unfortunately closed when we were there, and another in the former Ducal Palace – the day we were there the Palace exhibits featured not only pottery and glazed works but a fascinating collection of cardboard sculptures of fantastic creatures. We also discovered the HQ of the Montagnon firm of faience manufacturers, which traces its origins to 1648 but which regrettably closed its doors permanently in 2015.
The narrow streets that lead away from the river are interesting, with many houses from the 14th to the 17th centuries. The Romanesque/Gothic Nevers cathedral (Cathédrale Saint-Cyr-Saint-Julitte) was imposing, as was the Romanesque Église Saint-Étienne, as well as the Ducal Palace and its adjacent Place de la République. We also enjoyed a ride through the Parc Roger Salengro to the Chapel of Saint Bernadette Soubirous, the witness to the apparitions of Our Lady of Lourdes in the 19th-century, who died in Nevers and whose “incorrupt body” remains on display. We chose not to view the corpse, but were delighted to find a large mosaic mural under construction in the adjacent courtyard.
Leaving Nevers we cruised to the little village of Cours-les-Barres, a pleasant stop but a place where it seems they have been somewhat opposed to beggars for a long time…
Our cruise from Cours-les-Barres included some lovely locks, well tended with flowers and attentive éclusiers – even when on the phone, as they always were.
Our next stop, la Chapelle-Montlinard proved to be a fascinating place. The mooring, by an industrial site, was less than salubrious, though adequate.

But the nearby town of La Charité-sur-Loire was something else altogether. Across the Loire from the canal mooring and up a slight rise, la Charité had some lovely surprises. The Église Notre-Dame de la Charité-sur-Loire is a magnificent ruin, largely preserved. With a history going back to the 8th century, and the current building dating from the 12th to 14th centuries, it is a marvel of ecclesiastical architecture, one of the foremost “daughters” of the famous Cluny Abbey. Its survival is even more remarkable, given it was marked for destruction in the Revolution and was turned into a series of trade enterprises – a pottery, a shoe manufacturer, a wine store – and then was earmarked for demolition in the 19th century to make way for the Paris-Nevers road (thankfully avoided). It has lost its western chapels and one of its towers, and its walls are green with mould, but it is superb.
For the last thirteen years, la Charité has been hosting an annual Festival du Mot, a literary festival, welcoming poets, writers, critics and the public to celebrate words (rather than just books), with each year dedicated to a particular word. The town has turned itself over to this, with numerous inscriptions and placards throughout town, on steps, walls, roadways and shopfronts.
Another highlight in la Charite was the les halles de loire, an unusual grocery/vegetable store by the river, established in an old abattoir that closed in 1984 and has been turned into a store specialising in local produce, fresh and preserved. It’s a interesting and atmospheric space (even the old rails and hooks for the carcasses have been maintained) and its products are genuinely good, local and sourced. There aren’t many spaces like this in France, and we were delighted to find it.
After la Charité we cruised to Ménétréol, the chief attraction of which was its proximity to the hilltop village of Sancerre, a lovely town and the centre of a noted wine region. It was a nice mooring, but as we approached a lady appeared on the quay, gesticulating and telling us we could not moor there because a large boat was due to arrive. We told her we had arrived and we were staying, and she disappeared. To our horror, we later discovered she was the proprietor of the dockside restaurant we had booked dinner at that evening! All the same, she was friendly and didn’t seem to mind, and the large boat didn’t arrive, so pas de problème. The restaurant was lovely… and clearly obsessed with hats!
The following day, however, the large boat did arrive. It was a hotel boat, and it was arrogant and aggressive. Our first inkling was when a young man pulled up to the port in a van and told us we had to move to make room. He did the same to the boat in front of us. That was when we first met John and Janet Hughes, from Sydney but now of the Gold Coast, fellow Australians who proved they don’t take shit. Tbe hotel boat arrived shortly afterwards and hovered beside us, the crew member yelling at us to move. John, a lawyer and immovable object, simply refused. He winked at me and continued his charade of non-cooperation for a while, insisting that the boat and its crew show a bit more respect and consideration. Eventually, however, we agreed to provide room for the hotel boat and its guests…. it meant we had to move as far back as possible and hammer in our ground stakes, but we were OK.
All that out of the way, we were free to ride our bikes up the hill to Sancerre, to take in the town and its views and its wine shops. It was a challenging ride up the hill but well worth it – the town is a delight, with a lovely square where we enjoyed lunch, great views and a series of narrow streets leading to our target… the Domaine Vacheron et Fils. We enjoyed a lovely tasting in their cave and ordered a couple of dozen bottles, which M. Vacheron undertook to deliver to us at the boat the following morning.
With the Sancerre wine delivered as promised and safely stowed, we set off for the tiny village of Léré, 18 kilometres further down the canal. We arrived at a peaceful setting with only one or two other boats. But lo and behold, events repeated themselves when a hotel boat arrived and rudely requested we shift our settled positions; once again, there had been no sign or warning of their arrival (some other hotel boats are considerate enough to leave notices at moorings to warn of their arrival, by date and ETA). This time it was the turn of the Englishman in front of us to play the role that our friend John had performed in Ménétréol, feigning offence and inconvenience and non-cooperation, until we eventually, reluctantly shifted our boats to make room. Such an unnecessary rigmarole! There was not much to the village, apart from an attractive small lavoir (communal wash house), a nice restaurant (which we did not visit on this occasion), a boulangerie, and the handsome 14th-century Église Saint-Martin.
Our next stop was at the attractive halte at Beaulieu, only a couple of hours further down the canal. On the way we could see in the distance the cooling towers of the Belleville nuclear power plant. Beaulieu is in a nice setting, with power and water, and the village is a delightful little place, with a boulangerie, a pleasant bar-tabac and the sweetest, smallest mairie we have seen. Unfortunately the boulangerie was closed for the annual summer holidays…. we were pretty sure what he would be up to – the photos and trophies in his window were not for achievement in bread-making but for catching fish!
From Beaulieu we headed towards Briare, our last stop on the Canal before turning north. Briare sits at the junction of the Loire River and its latéral canal, and the Canal du Briare. The Loire canal crosses the river just before the town along an elevated pont-canal, and we decided to stop just before it at a wild mooring, rightly suspecting that there might not be a suitable place for us in the town marinas. It was an easy cycle into town and it was peaceful and free! The pont-canal itself is a wonder – for a hundred years until 2003 it was the longest iron aqueduct in the world, at 662 metres, and it has a strong connection with Gustave Eiffel of Tower fame. It provides a great view of the river as you cross it.
Briare is an interesting an pleasant town, with an excellent marina (though with high demand and therefore limited space). The town has some excellent cafés and restaurants, some lovely walks along the riverside, a lot of waterways and waterside parks to walk through and a general air of ease and relaxation. One of our prime interests was the Musée de la Mosaique et des Emaux, dedicated to the mosaic and enamel industries that flourished here in the 19th and early 20th centuries. The Emaux de Briare company manufactured and exported millions of enamel buttons and beads, and pioneered the production of pre-cut mosaic tiles which were used to adorn buildings and to tile bathrooms and kitchens. Within the museum there is still today a factory which sells tiles, mosaic pieces, fixatives and glazes.
We were only in Briare for a short time, but we were fortunate to reconnect with our Australian friends John and Janet Hughes and to enjoy a lovely meal with them at the Restaurant Le Pont Canal, right by the aqueduct over the river. The meal was fantastic, made even better by John insisting on paying for us. Really lovely folk! The evening was perhaps a bit too enjoyable, judging by the selfie we took at the end of it.

So came the end of our cruise down the Canal Lateral a la Loire; our next stage would be a northward journey along the Canal de Briare and Canal du Loing back towards the Seine. Before we could get away, however, we had to navigate the pont-canal across the river…. a slow but relatively straightforward manoeuvre, but exhilirating in its own small way.
The Canal du Centre
Our transition from the Saône River to the Canal du Centre was a memorable experience, involving as it did an 11-metre high lock. The approach was not only daunting but confusing; from a distance the inside of the lock was so dark we couldn’t tell whether the gates were open or closed, even though the control light was green. Eventually we eased our way in, tied up to the floating bollards, braced ourselves for the rush of water and marvelled at the engineering involved in lifting us some 36 feet onto the canal. It was impressive, and not at all as nerve-wracking as we had thought it might be. We then had an easy 4-kilometre cruise to our overnight stop at Fragnes.
When we arrived in Fragnes on a Tuesday the port was absolutely jam-packed and we secured the very last available spot, requiring use of our mooring spikes. The next day many of the boats moved on and we were able to secure a better spot for our three-day stay in this pleasant and well-serviced mooring.
Fragnes wasn’t the quietest location we’d moored in….there was an aerodrome nearby, with an aerobatic practice facility, so there was a constant soundtrack of a sports plane doing its manoeuvres, as well as the sound of the tractor on the farm opposite cutting the harvest of wheat. And with the heat, several of the large hire boats in port decided to run their air-conditioning, resulting in total port-wide blackout for a couple of hours. All told, though, it was a pleasant place to relax and recover for a couple of days before our journey along the canal.
We were looking forward a lot to our cruise to Santenay, for three reasons – firstly, we had heard it was a very picturesque section of the canal and the mooring very pretty; secondly, we were anticipating some great wines from this distinct southern region of the Cote d’Or; and thirdly and most importantly, we were to meet our dear friend Julian from Australia there, who was due to motor in and spend a few days with us on his French holiday. All three expectations were fully satisfied.
The day we arrived, Julian joined us and after catching up on all our news we walked into the village for a lovely meal at one of its two excellent restaurants, the Restaurant l’Ouillette. That evening, 13 July, was Santenay’s turn to celebrate Bastille Day fireworks (smaller towns seem to do this on the day before, while larger towns and cities do their shows on the 14th), so we strolled down to the parklands at the swimming centre where there were a variety of marquees, one selling cheap beer and wine, one with a wooden dance floor, one with dinner tables set for VIPs, all of them surrounded by joyously celebrating familes and youth and children. The fireworks were very impressive.
The following day we piled into Julian’s hire car and set off for a tour of the region, including a visit to the wine centre of Beaune (which we had previously visited on our trip up the Canal de Bourgogne in 2017), some delightful small villages and country backroads, and a visit to the Rully wine house of André Delorme, where we tasted a few wines and came away with some very nice Chalonnaise burgundy and crémant de Bourgogne.
That evening we shared a meal at the other good restaurant in Santenay, Le Terroir – very excellent, and great company.

On our third day we once again did a road trip with Julian, this time visiting the marvellous weekly markets in Chagny. As well as several streets given over to food stalls of all kinds, there is also a section selling bric à brac, some of it truly excellent at great prices and always open to bargaining. Julian nearly needed a separate suitcase for his haul. The other remarkable thing about Chagny is its Poissonerie Kironan, a remarkable fish shop that specialises in sardines, the passion of the owner Ronan Pigent, originally from Brittany. He stocks more than 100 types of sardines and even has a self-service dispenser at his door for those who can’t wait for the shop to open.
On our way back to the boat at Santenay we detoured to a little rural brocante, where we saw some delightful little trinkets and curiosities for sale by local residents. These flea markets pop up from time to time in regional France and they are always interesting and sometimes throw up some wonderful bargains and eccentricities.

Back at Santenay we decided to have a meal on board and then venture to a café to watch the FIFA World Cup Final between France and Croatia. The first part went well, the dinner was lovely. The second part was hilarious. There was almost no one in the cafe, except for some Belgians who were angry with the French and refused to celebrate. We were in France, France won the World Cup, and we were surrounded by grunts and silence! At least we heard some car horns blaring in the distance on our way back to the boat. It was too funny.
The next few days we had some very pleasant cruising up towards the summit of the Canal du Centre, with overnight stops at Saint-Leger-sur-Dheune (full port, all services, small village) and Saint-Julien-sur-Dheune (no services but delightful setting), until we reached the top of the canal at Montchanin (no services, very pleasant apart from some major roadworks nearby).
In one sense, we didn’t make all we might have of our stay at Montchanin, because it is the top of the canal and has a number of lakes that supply water to the canal, including the Étang de Montchanin, with some very nice lakeside walks and a swimming beach. But we only had one night there, and we made the most of that with a visit to a nearby Les Routiers restaurant in the company of an Australian couple we befriended at the mooring. The Relais des Morands is essentially a truckers’ restaurant, part of the nationwide network of ‘routiers’ restaurants. A short bike ride from our restaurant, it offered a delicious three-course meal at bargain-basement prices – truck-drivers in France demand more than a burger and ice-cream! And the service was impeccable and very friendly.
We experienced the other end of the dining spectrum at our next stop, at Montceau-les-Mines. Montceau is a former mining town whose fortunes declined in the late-20th century – although, despite recent decades of high unemployment and business closures, it seems to be attempting a bit of a comeback. Certainly, it is doing well enough to support a Michelin-star restaurant, Jerome Brochot, where we enjoyed a fabulous meal on the night of our stay. A wonderful dining room and great food, including a magnificent fish mousseline in shellfish bisque, and the biggest and best crême brulée we have ever tasted.
Leaving Monteceau-les-Mines we had an enjoyable cruise to Génelard, a small town with not much except a delightful mooring, an amazing art déco metal factory and a museum dedicated to the Demarcation Line (La Ligne de Démarcation) between Occupied France and Free France, which ran through here and along the canal during WWII.
The following day saw us arrive in Paray-le-Monial, “la cité du sacré coueur”, an extraordinary place, a genuine centre of Catholic pilgrimage, welcoming 200,000+ faithful every year, attracted by the 17th-century “visitation” experienced by a young lady by the name of Marguerite-Marie Alacoque, who claimed repeated visions of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, confirmed by her Confessor, Father Colombère. The pilgrimage business really took off in the latter 19th century, and it’s never looked back. Today it involves acres of marquees, hours of singing, numerous shops selling religious souvenirs, books and artefacts…. the whole noodle. I have never seen so many people with walking sticks, all presumably looking for “the cure”.
Though it is a thoroughgoing centre of pilgrimage and all its associated religious hooha and commercialism, Paray has a long, illustrious religious history. The oldest churches here date from the middle ages, and there is a close association with the Abbey of Cluny (one of Christendom’s treasures until its destruction in the Revolution). The basilica of the Sacred Heart is a Romanesque triumph (one tower 11th-century, the other 12th). The 17th-18th century Cloister is delightful. And other religious buildings likewise.
Paray also boasts some delightful side streets and alleyways and some remarkable civic and domestic architecture.
It isn’t just about Eternity in Paray…. we found a horloger plying his trade, with some lovely old watches and clocks on display.
One of the most impressive things we saw in Paray-le-Monial was the museum dedicated to Paul Charnoz, founder of a ceramic tile industry here. Unlike others using glazes and tints, he developed techniques of manufacturing tiles using compressed baked, coloured clay powders, resulting in the most magnificent products for floors, walls and decoration. He flourished in the late 19th century-early 20th, exhibited at the Paris World Expo in 1889 (the one that welcomed the Eiffel Tower) and was a genius of industrial production of exquisite craft. Sadly, his factory ceased production in the 1970s and had been lost, but this little museum preserves his legacy in a small way.
