Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Thuderstorms
A big surprise for us has been the frequency of dramatic thunderstorms, usually in the late afternoons or early evenings. Sometimes you just see and hear them but there is little or no rain. Other times there is a deluge that seems to go on forever and you hear the fire engines hurrying to what we assume are problematic flash floods. The brightness and number of flashes of lightning are breathtaking and quite scary. The following thunderclaps are frightening. I am not one of those people who enjoy watching this particular spectacle of nature. When Catherine and I were returning from an evening walk, lightning struck the ground in a field we were walking past. Roger and Chris enjoy sitting at the back of their boat watching the show, and the other night lightning struck de Laak, the boat we had been moored next to up until we left for Dijon. The clap of thunder was deafening and there were flames, it was thought the canopy was on fire. Instead Brian’s carbon fibre fishing rod was hit and now the top part of it is a shrivelled mess. The wiring in the boat was damaged and power to the boat wiped out. All very upsetting and frightening. Apparently carbon fibre fishing rods are sold with a warning label on them saying they mustn’t be used during a thunderstorm. Brian had left his in a rod holder when he had finished using it and it stuck up above the boat.
This evening we were invited for drinks onto Empress, a particularly lovely barge owned by Americans Stanley and Betsy, Wolfgang from Germany was there too. The thunderstorm arrived in great haste and with much fanfare of thunder and lightning. We had to stop talking, we couldn’t hear what each other was saying. The rain was torrential and went on for ages. Really I was glad to have some company and the opportunity to be distracted from this, for me, menacing show of power.
Jeanette
A stuttering start...
It is just under 30km from St Jean de Losne at the southern end of the Canal de Bourgogne to Dijon. There are 23 locks along the very straight stretch of canal and it is not considered to be amongst the more beautiful parts of French waterways. Most people cover the distance as quickly as possible, usually in around one and a half days, although it can be done in a single day if everything is working in your favour . We expected to take a couple of days over it, maybe three. It took us five. We left St Jean de Losne with our friends John and Elaine on Whare Waka at around 9.45 on Thursday 5 June and arrived in Dijon - on our own but fit and well - at 5.30pm on Monday 9th.
Feeling a little tired after a late night entertaining (repaying a debt of gratitude for a last-minute repair job on a badly leaking tap), we finally made our departure from marina at St Jean de Losne, which has been our home for more than a month. It was an inauspicious start with the very tight turn out of the marina proving difficult to manage… After one abandoned attempt, J executed a beautiful 180 degree turn in the very confined space with advice and encouragement from Guy in French and Cathy (Arjo) and Maggie (Seabird) in English. We left the marina to meet John and Elaine (McMillan) on Whare Waka just before the entrance to the Canal de Bourgogne.
As planned, we came through the first lock together with help and fond farewells from Roger and Chris (Liberte) before finding a place to stop so that John could go back to St Jean for a dental appointment. His root canal at 115 euros seemed such good value that it has us all wondering if we should opt to have our dental work done in France rather than in NZ in future… By the time he returned to the boat, it was after midday and as the next lock wouldn’t be open again until 1pm, we had lunch before setting off again. The second lock passed without incident for us but John had trouble getting Whare Waka into it and even more trouble getting out of it, mooring up immediately afterwards. The boat had no steering. The two of them were both disappointed and angry as they’d asked H2O in St Jean more than once to check the steering and had been told that all was fine. Patently, it wasn’t. To add insult to injury, the rain, which had begun on our approach to the second lock, set in at about this point - the silver lining being that it provided us with the perfect excuse to stay put as whanau support: boating in these conditions could hardly be considered a pleasure and we wanted to make sure all was okay for our friends.
John biked back to St Jean for a second time that day and before too long, H2O had sent out a mechanic to see to the problem. He seemed confident that he’d fixed the problem - certainly the hydraulic fluid had stopped leaking - but J&E were not so sure… We decided to stay put for the night and look for signs of leakage in the morning. Elaine cooked a roast chicken dinner and we all had an early night.
Day 2 dawned to grey skies but no sign of any hydraulic fluid leaks on Whare Waka so, as soon as the locks were open for the day (a very civilised 9am), we were off again. Just one lock later John and Elaine were mooring up again - hydraulic fluid was now pouring out of the steering column. As we were working out what they were up to, I bent down to pick something up off the floor and tweaked my back in the process. It was a bit sore but didn’t seem too bad, and certainly didn’t stop us travelling on up the canal after John and Elaine had made their decision to go back. Nor were we stopped by the rain, which was more of a heavy drizzle than anything. With no wind it wasn’t particularly cold but it also wasn’t quite as we’d imagined the start to our waterways travels in France. Late afternoon saw us at Aiserey, 10km and 6 locks away from our starting point. We knew there was a supermarket and a hardware store handy and, because we wanted things for both, decided to tie up just past the lock there and call it a day. J biked into Aiserey for supplies while I stayed on the boat - not fancying a bike ride with my still sore back. And then we settled in for the night.
Day 3 and I couldn’t get out of bed! My back had stiffened up overnight and I simply could not stand or even sit. It was as if the lower part of my back couldn’t support the upper part and I crashed in a not-quite-screaming-heap. And just for good measure, the weather was revolting: steady, heavy rain that looked as though it could stay forever. With the mobile phone out of power (aren’t they always when you need them?!), J and I quickly decided that we needed outside help - in the form of the lockkeeper, who lived just 100m from where we had tied up. He didn’t speak English but J’s French was enough to convey the nature of the problem* and he came up to the boat, conversed with me through the window and then rang the emergency services when it became clear that I wouldn’t be able to get out to his car so that he could take me to the doctor’s. From what I could gather, he first rang the “pompiers” (fire brigade), who in turn rang around to see if a doctor was available and if not, an ambulance would be sent… As it turned out, a doctor from a village down the road would be available in an hour or so and he turned out to be an absolutely gorgeous one at that! He checked to see the pain was muscular and gave me a shot of Voltaren in the bum, a prescription for more drugs than I‘m likely to need, a note for the insurance company and a bill for all of 32 euros for the “house”/boat call (on a Saturday, no less), and was on his way… Talk about silver lining! By the end of that day, I was able to walk (with support) from one end of the boat to the other ; by the end of the next, I was able to walk into Aiserey and back with Jeanette, a walk of 2-3km and by the third day, I was able to crew the boat through the remaining 16 locks and 19.5km to Dijon! And the sun shone all the way…
So, we’ve launched ourselves off into the Burgundy Canal - le Canal de Bourgogne - which links the Saone Valley to that of the Seine. It covers a distance of 242km between St Jean de Losne and Laroche for those who‘d like to find it on a map. On the Saone side, where we are starting, there are 76 locks, which rise 199 (vertical) metres and on the Seine side, we’ll go through 113 locks and descend a total of 300 metres. The high point is at Pouilly-en-Auxois, just after a 3.33km long tunnel. All the locks on this canal are “manned”, some by women, of course, and one lockkeeper may be in charge of 2, 3 or more locks. Their scooters cover the distance between the locks far faster than the boats do - there’s a speed limit of 8km an hour on the canals. Their presence is a mixed blessing: it certainly saves time and effort on the part of those of us on boats but it removes control over the process too but there are times , especially as novices, when you’d like more time to secure your boat in the lock before they open the gates and let the water flood in!
After just 30km and 21 locks, we feel we are still beginners but the boat has behaved beautifully so far and we are starting to get the hang of some things. Because every boat is different and every crew has different strengths and weaknesses, there is no generally accepted “best way” of doing things - you have to work them all out for yourselves. We have begun that process but expect it to continue as long as we stay on the waterways - and every waterway has its own eccentricities as well. We have done our first propeller inspection it was a bit of a drama, the arrangement to do this wasn’t particularly helpful. We have since modified the process and it should be much easier next time. One bucket of weed, which was tightly wound around the prop, was finally removed. We try where possible to glide through weed with the motor in neutral. Sometimes you can ‘shake off’ weed by putting the motor in reverse. We have become very fond of our boat and are very much at home on it - whether in the heat and bustle of Dijon in good health as is the case now or bedridden in the back of beyond under constant rain, as was the case just a few days ago.
Catherine
* J’s French did succeed in getting a message across but we’re not entirely sure what the lockkeeper thought when her attempt to convey that I had “mal au dos” (a sore back) came out sounding more like “mal odeur” (a bad smell)
Feeling a little tired after a late night entertaining (repaying a debt of gratitude for a last-minute repair job on a badly leaking tap), we finally made our departure from marina at St Jean de Losne, which has been our home for more than a month. It was an inauspicious start with the very tight turn out of the marina proving difficult to manage… After one abandoned attempt, J executed a beautiful 180 degree turn in the very confined space with advice and encouragement from Guy in French and Cathy (Arjo) and Maggie (Seabird) in English. We left the marina to meet John and Elaine (McMillan) on Whare Waka just before the entrance to the Canal de Bourgogne.
As planned, we came through the first lock together with help and fond farewells from Roger and Chris (Liberte) before finding a place to stop so that John could go back to St Jean for a dental appointment. His root canal at 115 euros seemed such good value that it has us all wondering if we should opt to have our dental work done in France rather than in NZ in future… By the time he returned to the boat, it was after midday and as the next lock wouldn’t be open again until 1pm, we had lunch before setting off again. The second lock passed without incident for us but John had trouble getting Whare Waka into it and even more trouble getting out of it, mooring up immediately afterwards. The boat had no steering. The two of them were both disappointed and angry as they’d asked H2O in St Jean more than once to check the steering and had been told that all was fine. Patently, it wasn’t. To add insult to injury, the rain, which had begun on our approach to the second lock, set in at about this point - the silver lining being that it provided us with the perfect excuse to stay put as whanau support: boating in these conditions could hardly be considered a pleasure and we wanted to make sure all was okay for our friends.
John biked back to St Jean for a second time that day and before too long, H2O had sent out a mechanic to see to the problem. He seemed confident that he’d fixed the problem - certainly the hydraulic fluid had stopped leaking - but J&E were not so sure… We decided to stay put for the night and look for signs of leakage in the morning. Elaine cooked a roast chicken dinner and we all had an early night.
Day 2 dawned to grey skies but no sign of any hydraulic fluid leaks on Whare Waka so, as soon as the locks were open for the day (a very civilised 9am), we were off again. Just one lock later John and Elaine were mooring up again - hydraulic fluid was now pouring out of the steering column. As we were working out what they were up to, I bent down to pick something up off the floor and tweaked my back in the process. It was a bit sore but didn’t seem too bad, and certainly didn’t stop us travelling on up the canal after John and Elaine had made their decision to go back. Nor were we stopped by the rain, which was more of a heavy drizzle than anything. With no wind it wasn’t particularly cold but it also wasn’t quite as we’d imagined the start to our waterways travels in France. Late afternoon saw us at Aiserey, 10km and 6 locks away from our starting point. We knew there was a supermarket and a hardware store handy and, because we wanted things for both, decided to tie up just past the lock there and call it a day. J biked into Aiserey for supplies while I stayed on the boat - not fancying a bike ride with my still sore back. And then we settled in for the night.
Day 3 and I couldn’t get out of bed! My back had stiffened up overnight and I simply could not stand or even sit. It was as if the lower part of my back couldn’t support the upper part and I crashed in a not-quite-screaming-heap. And just for good measure, the weather was revolting: steady, heavy rain that looked as though it could stay forever. With the mobile phone out of power (aren’t they always when you need them?!), J and I quickly decided that we needed outside help - in the form of the lockkeeper, who lived just 100m from where we had tied up. He didn’t speak English but J’s French was enough to convey the nature of the problem* and he came up to the boat, conversed with me through the window and then rang the emergency services when it became clear that I wouldn’t be able to get out to his car so that he could take me to the doctor’s. From what I could gather, he first rang the “pompiers” (fire brigade), who in turn rang around to see if a doctor was available and if not, an ambulance would be sent… As it turned out, a doctor from a village down the road would be available in an hour or so and he turned out to be an absolutely gorgeous one at that! He checked to see the pain was muscular and gave me a shot of Voltaren in the bum, a prescription for more drugs than I‘m likely to need, a note for the insurance company and a bill for all of 32 euros for the “house”/boat call (on a Saturday, no less), and was on his way… Talk about silver lining! By the end of that day, I was able to walk (with support) from one end of the boat to the other ; by the end of the next, I was able to walk into Aiserey and back with Jeanette, a walk of 2-3km and by the third day, I was able to crew the boat through the remaining 16 locks and 19.5km to Dijon! And the sun shone all the way…
So, we’ve launched ourselves off into the Burgundy Canal - le Canal de Bourgogne - which links the Saone Valley to that of the Seine. It covers a distance of 242km between St Jean de Losne and Laroche for those who‘d like to find it on a map. On the Saone side, where we are starting, there are 76 locks, which rise 199 (vertical) metres and on the Seine side, we’ll go through 113 locks and descend a total of 300 metres. The high point is at Pouilly-en-Auxois, just after a 3.33km long tunnel. All the locks on this canal are “manned”, some by women, of course, and one lockkeeper may be in charge of 2, 3 or more locks. Their scooters cover the distance between the locks far faster than the boats do - there’s a speed limit of 8km an hour on the canals. Their presence is a mixed blessing: it certainly saves time and effort on the part of those of us on boats but it removes control over the process too but there are times , especially as novices, when you’d like more time to secure your boat in the lock before they open the gates and let the water flood in!
After just 30km and 21 locks, we feel we are still beginners but the boat has behaved beautifully so far and we are starting to get the hang of some things. Because every boat is different and every crew has different strengths and weaknesses, there is no generally accepted “best way” of doing things - you have to work them all out for yourselves. We have begun that process but expect it to continue as long as we stay on the waterways - and every waterway has its own eccentricities as well. We have done our first propeller inspection it was a bit of a drama, the arrangement to do this wasn’t particularly helpful. We have since modified the process and it should be much easier next time. One bucket of weed, which was tightly wound around the prop, was finally removed. We try where possible to glide through weed with the motor in neutral. Sometimes you can ‘shake off’ weed by putting the motor in reverse. We have become very fond of our boat and are very much at home on it - whether in the heat and bustle of Dijon in good health as is the case now or bedridden in the back of beyond under constant rain, as was the case just a few days ago.
Catherine
* J’s French did succeed in getting a message across but we’re not entirely sure what the lockkeeper thought when her attempt to convey that I had “mal au dos” (a sore back) came out sounding more like “mal odeur” (a bad smell)
A stay in the south
With two days worth of rail travel left on our Eurail passes and very little time left to use them, we decided to go away for a long weekend before embarking on the canal boat adventure for real. Ideally, we would have liked to visit our friend, Ulrike, in Berlin but 45 minutes at the train booking office convinced us of the folly of that particular idea. Instead, we opted to head south in search of some warmer weather. We’d had gorgeous weather at the start of May but the second half had been decidedly damp: variable at best and regularly punctuated with thunder storms. J had never been to the French Mediterranean coast before and it’s 25 years since I briefly visited there as a naïve young Assistante d’anglais. We opted to stay a couple of nights in Nice and a couple of nights in Menton - the former because it is one of the “big name” towns on the Riviera and the latter because it is smaller, less well-known and boasts the Katherine Mansfield connection with NZ.
The weather on the way down was what we were hoping for. It rained for much of the journey and the rivers were running high and fast - something we now pay much more attention to than before! We were pleased not to be anywhere near them in a boat. It took us most of the day to get from St Jean de Losne to Nice (via Dijon) and we were lucky that the weather lifted for the last half hour or so of the trip and we arrived to warm, dry weather. We were also lucky that the Tourist Office was a) one of those which assists with hotel bookings and b) right next to the railway station. Within no time at all we were installed in an okay room in the Hotel de Berne, beautifully situated between the station and the main attractions: the historic old town, the shops and the sea.
Our impressions of Nice were generally favourable; much more so than on my last visit but that may be because this time I was expecting the bustling centre on the tamed Mediterranean Coast that Nice is rather than looking for something resembling a NZ coastal town as I was 25 years ago… The Promenade des Anglais along the waterfront is still THE place to walk out: to watch people and have people watch you if that’s what you like. It was also hosting an Italian Food Festival when we were there, so we were able to do some tastings along the way. The beaches are not the best - they are of pebbles not sand - but the sea is as beautiful as it ought to be and we even went for a swim on our second day there, albeit a short one because there was quite a breeze and therefore also quite a chop. From the water, we watched several people enjoy the short paragliding experience on offer (at a price) on the beach - it looked like wonderful fun and both of us would love to try it one day. We’re sure there will be cheaper places to give it a go. There were loads of people on the beach but only one or two in the water swimming. It is, of course, early in the season and the water is not up to the necessary temperature for most… but, while the French flock to the seaside in summer, it is more often to sit beside it than to actually venture in. Even when the beaches are jam-packed, there is loads of room just metres away in the water! One feature of Med beaches that we love, though, is the fact that they have fresh water showers placed along them at regular intervals so you can rinse off the salt water before you go home. Now that’s civilised!
We enjoyed being able to look around a good selection of shops and while (still) unable to find ourselves nice mugs for our coffee and tea or suitable (plain, small, inoffensive) toilet roll holders for our newly decorated toilet/bathrooms, J did find some clothes and we bought a Provencal table cloth to suit the new colour scheme of the boat. Food-wise, we indulged in delicious gelato and Mum treated us to an evening meal in a typical Nicois restaurant. The meal was lovely and the ambiance even better - the restaurant was small (max of 40 diners), tastefully decorated in the Provencal blue and yellow, and run by a delightful, tiny old Nicoise woman, who must have been 80 if she was a day. She was obviously the heart and soul of the place, and it was a pleasure to watch her at work and in her interactions with the staff , who would obviously do anything for her.
We left Nice on Sunday morning and decided to stop off and have a look at Monaco on the way to Menton. First impressions were that we were very much in a different country. The railway station was spacious, spotless and largely made of marble. We immediately purchased our tickets for Menton before having a look around and found the staff friendly and helpful. Monaco is very small, really a scarf of craggy steep hills around a harbour/marina. We didn’t’t see one dog so didn’t’t have to constantly avoid their leavings. The streets were clean, the scenery dramatic and the gardens lovely. The seating for the Grand Prix was still in place and obviously positioned to give the crowd an excellent view. Mercedes, Audis and BMW are common place and we saw a Ferrari and Maserati within minutes of arriving. The harbour was literally crammed with large and impressive pleasure craft many looking as though they had been made in a large jelly mould. Space is at a premium, there are no floating pontoons between any of the boats, they were anchored at the bow and backed in with one layer of fenders between the boats. The boat coming in raises its fenders, gently ‘rubs’ past the fenders of the other boats, then when in place lowers their fenders so they are positioned alternately from their two neighbours. It was a very calm day when we were there, that could be a tricky manoeuvre in strong winds. C made the comment that the fenders on some of the boats there would be worth more than our boat in its entirety - she was probably right. As passers by looking in on a lifestyle we can hardly imagine, we saw such things as a large craft with two sizeable outboard motorboats and two ski jets all ready to be ‘craned into’ the water. Many of the boats had ‘telescopic’ ramps to allow people aboard, most of the ramps we saw were retracted which made you wonder if anyone was on board. We were told, and do not know if it is true, that the late Prince Rainier’s yacht has not been out of the harbour for twenty years but is kept maintained with a crew full time. The symbolism of Catholicism is very evident everywhere and the overall impression is of a well ordered and peaceful community. I don’t suppose we will ever have these thoughts put to the test.
We arrived in Menton late morning and the beauty of the place is breathtaking! The mountains really do come all the way down to the Mediterranean at this spot and the juxtaposition is stunning! We, found the Tourist Information Office only to find out that it was one of the ones that didn’t help with hotel bookings other than to provide a list… Thank goodness for a mobile phone, which saved us a lot of time and walking in locating the Hotel Richelieu - again ideally situated between the station and the attractions but cheaper and more pleasant than the one in Nice, and with free wifi to boot! What a shame that we left our NZ/French adaptor on the boat, so we were only able to take advantage until the battery ran out on the computer… We’ll not make that mistake again.
Menton is much smaller than Nice, more compact, more intimate and more spectacular. There are lots of foreigners but most of them are Italian as Italy is just a few kilometres form the centre on town. We walked there on our second morning - after visiting the less than impressive Katherine Mansfield cottage - hoping to find a cup of coffee but we walked back having found some fantastic cliffs, a blowhole and a not-very-inspiring café-tabac, which didn’t tempt us in for a drink!
The beaches of Menton are nicer than those of Nice - smaller, more sheltered and sandier. We had two swims there - and mooched around on the beach on the Monday afternoon, surrounded by Italian families with loads of bambini. Another ideal spot for people-watching and for taking in the delicious feeling of being “elsewhere”. We did a lot of walking in Menton too - in the gorgeous, colourful old town with its steep narrow streets and steps; in the old town cemetery, where we found the grave of William Webb Ellis (he who with splendid disregard for the rules of football picked up the ball and ran with it …); along the coast to Italy and back… We also visited our second “vide-grenier” or car boot sale, where we bought a set of beautiful, fine, short-stemmed flutes (of the champagne glass kind rather than the musical kind) for the boat - not only will they fit on the shelves in the boat (hence the need for a short stem) but they only cost us 5 euros as well - a great deal and the best kind of souvenir of our visit. To give us strength for our walking, we had two lingering lunches by the sea watching the world go by. We are enjoying the long lunches as our main meal and lighter evening meals. This approach to eating suits both our waistlines and our pockets, as well as our general sense of well-being.
These five days away from St Jean were like a holiday for us - even though it must seem to others that we are constantly on holiday. The weather was warm and we were away from our “home” and the work related to it. We were able to discover new things and to spend time simply relaxing and looking around with no responsibilities. We arrived back in St Jean on Tuesday night refreshed and ready to prepare ourselves and our boat for departure - scheduled for Thursday morning.
Catherine and Jeanette
The weather on the way down was what we were hoping for. It rained for much of the journey and the rivers were running high and fast - something we now pay much more attention to than before! We were pleased not to be anywhere near them in a boat. It took us most of the day to get from St Jean de Losne to Nice (via Dijon) and we were lucky that the weather lifted for the last half hour or so of the trip and we arrived to warm, dry weather. We were also lucky that the Tourist Office was a) one of those which assists with hotel bookings and b) right next to the railway station. Within no time at all we were installed in an okay room in the Hotel de Berne, beautifully situated between the station and the main attractions: the historic old town, the shops and the sea.
Our impressions of Nice were generally favourable; much more so than on my last visit but that may be because this time I was expecting the bustling centre on the tamed Mediterranean Coast that Nice is rather than looking for something resembling a NZ coastal town as I was 25 years ago… The Promenade des Anglais along the waterfront is still THE place to walk out: to watch people and have people watch you if that’s what you like. It was also hosting an Italian Food Festival when we were there, so we were able to do some tastings along the way. The beaches are not the best - they are of pebbles not sand - but the sea is as beautiful as it ought to be and we even went for a swim on our second day there, albeit a short one because there was quite a breeze and therefore also quite a chop. From the water, we watched several people enjoy the short paragliding experience on offer (at a price) on the beach - it looked like wonderful fun and both of us would love to try it one day. We’re sure there will be cheaper places to give it a go. There were loads of people on the beach but only one or two in the water swimming. It is, of course, early in the season and the water is not up to the necessary temperature for most… but, while the French flock to the seaside in summer, it is more often to sit beside it than to actually venture in. Even when the beaches are jam-packed, there is loads of room just metres away in the water! One feature of Med beaches that we love, though, is the fact that they have fresh water showers placed along them at regular intervals so you can rinse off the salt water before you go home. Now that’s civilised!
We enjoyed being able to look around a good selection of shops and while (still) unable to find ourselves nice mugs for our coffee and tea or suitable (plain, small, inoffensive) toilet roll holders for our newly decorated toilet/bathrooms, J did find some clothes and we bought a Provencal table cloth to suit the new colour scheme of the boat. Food-wise, we indulged in delicious gelato and Mum treated us to an evening meal in a typical Nicois restaurant. The meal was lovely and the ambiance even better - the restaurant was small (max of 40 diners), tastefully decorated in the Provencal blue and yellow, and run by a delightful, tiny old Nicoise woman, who must have been 80 if she was a day. She was obviously the heart and soul of the place, and it was a pleasure to watch her at work and in her interactions with the staff , who would obviously do anything for her.
We left Nice on Sunday morning and decided to stop off and have a look at Monaco on the way to Menton. First impressions were that we were very much in a different country. The railway station was spacious, spotless and largely made of marble. We immediately purchased our tickets for Menton before having a look around and found the staff friendly and helpful. Monaco is very small, really a scarf of craggy steep hills around a harbour/marina. We didn’t’t see one dog so didn’t’t have to constantly avoid their leavings. The streets were clean, the scenery dramatic and the gardens lovely. The seating for the Grand Prix was still in place and obviously positioned to give the crowd an excellent view. Mercedes, Audis and BMW are common place and we saw a Ferrari and Maserati within minutes of arriving. The harbour was literally crammed with large and impressive pleasure craft many looking as though they had been made in a large jelly mould. Space is at a premium, there are no floating pontoons between any of the boats, they were anchored at the bow and backed in with one layer of fenders between the boats. The boat coming in raises its fenders, gently ‘rubs’ past the fenders of the other boats, then when in place lowers their fenders so they are positioned alternately from their two neighbours. It was a very calm day when we were there, that could be a tricky manoeuvre in strong winds. C made the comment that the fenders on some of the boats there would be worth more than our boat in its entirety - she was probably right. As passers by looking in on a lifestyle we can hardly imagine, we saw such things as a large craft with two sizeable outboard motorboats and two ski jets all ready to be ‘craned into’ the water. Many of the boats had ‘telescopic’ ramps to allow people aboard, most of the ramps we saw were retracted which made you wonder if anyone was on board. We were told, and do not know if it is true, that the late Prince Rainier’s yacht has not been out of the harbour for twenty years but is kept maintained with a crew full time. The symbolism of Catholicism is very evident everywhere and the overall impression is of a well ordered and peaceful community. I don’t suppose we will ever have these thoughts put to the test.
We arrived in Menton late morning and the beauty of the place is breathtaking! The mountains really do come all the way down to the Mediterranean at this spot and the juxtaposition is stunning! We, found the Tourist Information Office only to find out that it was one of the ones that didn’t help with hotel bookings other than to provide a list… Thank goodness for a mobile phone, which saved us a lot of time and walking in locating the Hotel Richelieu - again ideally situated between the station and the attractions but cheaper and more pleasant than the one in Nice, and with free wifi to boot! What a shame that we left our NZ/French adaptor on the boat, so we were only able to take advantage until the battery ran out on the computer… We’ll not make that mistake again.
Menton is much smaller than Nice, more compact, more intimate and more spectacular. There are lots of foreigners but most of them are Italian as Italy is just a few kilometres form the centre on town. We walked there on our second morning - after visiting the less than impressive Katherine Mansfield cottage - hoping to find a cup of coffee but we walked back having found some fantastic cliffs, a blowhole and a not-very-inspiring café-tabac, which didn’t tempt us in for a drink!
The beaches of Menton are nicer than those of Nice - smaller, more sheltered and sandier. We had two swims there - and mooched around on the beach on the Monday afternoon, surrounded by Italian families with loads of bambini. Another ideal spot for people-watching and for taking in the delicious feeling of being “elsewhere”. We did a lot of walking in Menton too - in the gorgeous, colourful old town with its steep narrow streets and steps; in the old town cemetery, where we found the grave of William Webb Ellis (he who with splendid disregard for the rules of football picked up the ball and ran with it …); along the coast to Italy and back… We also visited our second “vide-grenier” or car boot sale, where we bought a set of beautiful, fine, short-stemmed flutes (of the champagne glass kind rather than the musical kind) for the boat - not only will they fit on the shelves in the boat (hence the need for a short stem) but they only cost us 5 euros as well - a great deal and the best kind of souvenir of our visit. To give us strength for our walking, we had two lingering lunches by the sea watching the world go by. We are enjoying the long lunches as our main meal and lighter evening meals. This approach to eating suits both our waistlines and our pockets, as well as our general sense of well-being.
These five days away from St Jean were like a holiday for us - even though it must seem to others that we are constantly on holiday. The weather was warm and we were away from our “home” and the work related to it. We were able to discover new things and to spend time simply relaxing and looking around with no responsibilities. We arrived back in St Jean on Tuesday night refreshed and ready to prepare ourselves and our boat for departure - scheduled for Thursday morning.
Catherine and Jeanette
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Rediscovering the Joys of Cycling (without a helmet!)
Cycling in France has been more enjoyable than expected. Fortunately both cycles have reasonably comfortable seats which is helpful and the few hills are really just gentle mounds, especially when compared to Wellington! There is a certain feeling of freedom when it comes to just hopping on a bike and heading off to where ever you want to go. No hot car to cool down or park, no fuel costs and the smug feeling of doing some exercise. The feeling of fresh air blowing in your face as you whiz down a ’hill’ reminds you of your youth which for J included riding from Takapuna to Devonport to practice and play cricket, a round trip of more than 10 miles with a few hills steep enough to be challenging on the way home. Motorists are very aware of cyclists and are very considerate and courteous. There are also quite a few cycling lanes which are great. We have learnt that it is better to keep one’s mouth firmly closed when cycling in the evening as there seems to be quite a few insects around that are unpleasant to inhale as you ride along pointing out items of interest to each other. We are looking forward to our departure from St Jean (planned for next Thursday) and beginning the boating adventure for real… In particular, we are looking forward to ‘parking up’ along a canal and venturing forth on the bikes to explore local villages and points of interest that are just a bit too far to go to on foot, although we have yet to test the comfort of the bike seats or the strength of our legs over longer distances.
Jeanette
Jeanette
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
