Conflans-Ste-Honorine

Conflans-Ste-Honorine gets the first part of its name from the fact that it is situated at the confluence of the Seine and the Oise rivers. It is 70km (or a very good day's navigating) downstream from Paris (we WILL write about that another time) and it is quite unlike any place we have moored at so far. As far as we can ascertain, it is the bargee capital of France; the equivalent of St-Jean-de-Losne for working boats. It has something like 3-4 kilometres of quays; two along the Seine and another just around the corner on both sides of the Oise. Almost all of quays are occupied by barges and other working boats – there are also river cruise boats, convoy pushers, the fire department's boat and police boats. In many places the boats are moored three, four or even five abreast! There are some barges moored here that are no longer working boats - almost a whole kilometre of quay space is allocated to retired bargees (and their barges, of course). Barges are four abreast for the full length of it! There is also a chapel barge (called Je Sers – or I Serve) permanently moored in its own spot. It also serves as a social services centre for bargees and their families.


Pleasure craft are few and far between here. C has walked the entire length of the port spaces and has counted just four or five. That means that for us it's quite an intimidating place to come into – it doesn't look as though we belong and, in fact, we felt we had to ask if it was permitted for pleasure boats to moor before we settled in. Bizarrely, given the number of boats in port, we have a 40m length of quay all to ourselves. In front of us (upstream), there are three barges moored side by side, protecting us from any current, and just downstream there is a combination road bridge and passerelle (a bridge for pedestrians and cyclists).


Having spent a full day here, we've had the time to ascertain that Conflans is neither a pretty place nor a particularly practical one for us. There's no water or electricity for the boat and there isn't a supermarket anywhere nearby. (There are, however, about three bakeries within easy walking distance.) Astonishingly, there is also not a single chandlery in the town – a business opportunity going begging if ever we saw one! Nor is Conflans a quiet stop – the road across the bridge is a busy one and there is a rail bridge just a little further downstream. The line is one of the suburban rail links to Paris. If that wasn't enough, when the wind blows a certain direction, Conflans is in the flight path for one of Paris' airports.


However, if you are moored on the Seine, as we are, then Conflans is a safe, busy and fascinating place to be. We have never seen quite so much traffic on the waterways as we have seen here. There would have been somewhere between 40 and 50 big barges that have gone past us today – the first at around 5:45am and the last at just after 11pm - and today is Saturday! We've also seen three large river cruise ships since we arrive – one of them, the Renoir, went past our boat three times: once going downstream, once (very soon after the first time) going back upstream, presumably to moor on the passenger boat quay and then a third jaw-dropping time as it went back downstream as far as the Oise (a distance of about 1km) in reverse! Not a manoeuvre that we will be trying...

With river, road, rail and air transport so evident so much of the time, being here is a bit like living in a scene from a Richard Scarry book... and there can't be too many places in the world where you can find the Bounty tied up next to the Mayflower, where Orca and Piranha share the same water and where you can walk from Alaska to Las Vegas and then on to Madagascar within the space of just 20 minutes. We may not stay here long (we rock and roll every time any boat goes past and we'll need power, water and a supermarket before too long) but we wouldn't have missed it for the world!

Moret sur Loing to Paris

On Friday night we found a very good 'wild' mooring just three locks and a few kilometres short of Moret sur Loing at the end of the Canal du Loing. We had been told by many people that Moret is exceptionally pretty and very popular (for “popular” read “often hard to find a mooring spot”.) Our strategy in such cases is to moor up just short of those places the night before and then set out the next day in time to arrive in port mid-morning, when hopefully someone will have left but it is too early for others to have turned up looking for a space. As we tootled into the port at Moret, we could see one available space but we weren't sure if it was big enough for us. We decided to sail past slowly and try and judge if there was enough room. As we were doing this, two men appeared on the pontoon and assuring us there was 'a tonne of room' and to come in: one was Simon, off Joie de Vivre, (last year's new friend) and his friend, Dave. Our bow rope was taken and we were pulled in so that our bow overhung the end of the pontoon and there wasjust enough space between our stern and the bow of the boat behind - Mr Luxemburg's as it happened (see previous post for details). The photo below attempts to show what a tight fit it was.



Well, what a reunion with Simon and May, who we last saw in Chalon sur Saone at the end of last year. We caught up with each other's news and travels, and we picked their brains about the Seine, including information about getting into the port in Paris, as they had just come from there. On Saturday night we joined Simon, May, Di and Dave for nibbles and drinks and then all came on board Erewhon for a dinner. It was a great evening all round.



Moret is indeed a lovely mooring and a very picturesque town. It seems comfortably well off and a 'safe' place to be. We spent Sunday exploring, taking photos and enjoying the lovely sunshine. In the evening we had more drinks and nibbles with the other four and got ready for our two day trip to Paris. The weather report foretold good weather for Monday and Tuesday with some rain on Wednesday. We thought we'd like to arrive before the rain set in. Simon, May, Di and Dave turned up at 8am to say farewell and help us out of the tight spot we were in (or to “give us a shove off”, as Simon put it). Mr Luxemberg was leaving at the same time so it turned out to be easier than we thought it would be. He went first, leaving plenty of room to back up and get clear of another boat that overlapped our bow down the port side. The photo shows the group farewelling us – they may not thank us for posting it on the internet.



J still suffers a little from river anxiety. All manner of possibilities can run through her mind, all leading to possible disasters! What if the motor/steering failed (both have happened to us in the past) and we couldn't control the boat and were washed over a barrage? C is under strict instructions to 'pay out the anchor in a controlled manner' should such a thing occur! These things do happen occasionally, although the worst incident we heard about was when a bunch of Swiss men hired a boat, set off in a merry way with lots of liquor being consumed and simply did not notice the big arrow pointing them right. They just drove straight over the barrage/weir! We wonder how they explained that to the hire boat company!


Anyway we left early Monday morning, a perfect day, blue sky, calm water, motored through St Mammes, more of a commercial port (see photo above) and out onto the River Seine. A more attractive and benign scene would be hard to imagine. The river was flowing at about 1 knot, we were travelling down river and it was glassy calm. There was a lot to see in the way of changing countryside and a huge variety of housing – from the humblest bach to some huge mansions. If we had travelled by car from Moret to Paris it would have taken less than an hour, (we took two days) so it is not altogether surprising that many of the houses so close to France's capital indicate a very opulent lifestyle is enjoyed by the occupants.

As well as being treated to some of the most interesting scenery we have yet experienced, there was the added entertainment of watching Mr Luxemburg's battle with a French boat – like ours, a former hire boat. We already knew that he liked to be first into (and out of) locks and was prepared to be quite pushy to achieve this. In terms of pushiness, he more than met his match in the driver of the French boat. This man was prepared to run the red lights in locks as the gates were opening in order to make a speedy get-away. Mr Luxemburg, being of more Germanic persuasion, wasn't prepared to go to those lengths and appeared quite shocked by the approach. However, he had far more horse power in his boat than the French, so he would always overtake them in the stretches between the locks. The funniest thing from our perspective was that no matter how fast those boats went, they always had to wait – and jostle for position - when they arrived at locks and we always ended up tootling into the locks at exactly the same time as they did.

We tied up for the night at Evry just upstream from the lock and were delighted to find Katinka and Scott were also there along with other friends of theirs: four Aussie couples, two couples per boat. We were invited to join them for a shared meal and had a lovely time and met six new people, enjoying their company. We were aboard K and S's very nice dutch barge called Eendracht, which they live on throughout the year. Ten people would not have fitted on anyone else's boat!

Fortunately, we did not particularly want or need to make an early start on Tuesday morning because there was quite a stream of huge barges, which always have priority over pleasure craft in any navigating situation, especially entering a lock. Because we were sharing the first lock (a large, river lock) with a couple of these barges, it turned out to be quite a challenge! Usually when we are locking down C can easily manage with one rope tied onto the midpoint of the boat around one bollard. We were right at the back of the lock and one of the barges was on the other side of the lock with his motor going which was forcing water from his stern, hitting the back of the lock and bouncing up the side of our boat pushing it away from the side of the lock with the potential to bump into the boat in front or swing wildly out into the lock or against the side of it. J put on a stern rope and together we managed to keep the boat in control but it wasn't a lot of fun.


The last couple of kilometres down the Seine and into the Canal St Martin, were interesting and challenging: lots to see, lots of traffic and lots of churned up water making steering a very physical exercise. We were pleased to duck off the river, into the 'small' lock and into the Port de l'Arsenal, which is at the bottom of the Canal St Martin and right next to the Place de la Bastille. Whew! We got our mooring sorted, went ot a very handy and excellent supermarket for supplies, returned to the boat and then the rain started! Timing is everything!

Today, typically untypical! (Thurs 28 July)

We had arranged with the lock keeper yesterday to be at the lock at 9am today ready for a longish day from Montargis, where we spent two lovely nights, to Nemours. (34 km and 15 locks, all going down.) We timed it perfectly, tootling along to the lock at two minutes to nine. Suddenly a largish boat pulled out in front of us, this man, a Luxemburger, wanted to be in front and just 'muscled' in! Both boats waited in vain for a lock keeper and after 20 minutes a VNF man came puffing up the hill and started to prepare the lock. He explained that the lock keeper on duty was ill and he had been sent to take his place.

Unfortunately, there is a shortage of water in the canals at the moment and so boats are being grouped to conserve the water as much as possible. Regulations say that you may have to wait for up to four hours for another boat to go through the locks with. We were locking down and needed a full lock to drive into. Another boat was coming upstream, still 20 minutes away and would need an empty lock. The lock was (of course) empty at that point so we just had to wait for the other boat to arrive, come up the lock and exit, before we could enter. By the time we got through that lock it was 10.20am. Not a fantastic start for a long day!

As the day progressed our locking partner, the Luxemburger, became less aggressive and even mildly friendly. C was even worried he might want to be our new very best friend as he started consulting on our plans for lunch and the rest of the day. J said he reminded her of Toad, of Toad Hall, complete with ubiquitous cigar. We had one other minor hold up at a badly functioning (or badly programmed) automatic lock in the morning and tied up at the entrance to a lock at 12 noon.


In true French style, the locks on this part of the canal are closed between noon and 1pm. We had a lovely, shady spot (see photo above) taken from the dining table and enjoyed a sumptious midday meal, usually our main meal. We dined on escalopes of dinde (tender turkey) with a creamy leek and mushroom sauce and new potatoes. Dessert was a bunch of the sweetest black grapes either of us have eaten for a long time. (Why IS fruit here sweeter and tastier than at home?!)

The afternoon went without incident and we enjoyed the remainder of the Briare canal and the start of the Loing canal, both very comfortable waterways to navigate on. At around quarter to six, we moored in a convenient spot on the quay in Nemours with the added bonus of free water and electricity. We sank into our especially comfortable deck chairs with a drink and a nibble and recovered from what was a long day for us.

After dinner we went for a short walk - well, a dawdle really - to get our bearings ready for a foray into the town centre tomorrow. A lovely French couple in the boat behind us had whizzed past us on their electric bicycles and returned to their boat at the same time as we did. We chatted to them and found that in the time we took to toddle no more than 400m, they had 'done the town'. We asked lots of questions about these bikes. They are wonderful but there are two main drawbacks: they are very heavy and they cost NZ $2000 each (and that's at a very favourable exchange rate!!) Catherine was offered one of the bikes to ride, she declined, scared she might damage it but more importantly that she might like it too much and would then really desire them for the two of us.

The icing on the cake this evening is listening to a woman two boats down playing a clarinet. It is a calm and warm evening and the dulcet tones add a touch of magic.

PS Next morning

We cycled into town, explored a fantastic bridge built between 1796 and 1804, visited the church, checked with the Office de Tourisme about attractions, looked around the town and enjoyed a hot capuccino, one of the best we have had in France. J nearly had a heart attack when she paid for the two cups of coffee. €14.60 registered on the till! But it was OK, that was the change from the €20 note she had handed over. J wiped her brow with relief and the shop assistant laughed in the nicest way possible. We were beguiled by the array of cakes in one of the best patisseries we have ever seen. With the active encouragement of the lovely shop assistant we were persuaded to choose one item each - such decadence! The photo doesn't do the creations justice. Despite great care, they didn't survive the journey back to the boat in the backpack unscathed and had to be reassembled!


PPS The treats were delicious, every bit as good as they looked.

Quinze jours

15 days... That's how long we've been navigating so far this season and we realise that we've told you little about where we are, where we've been and where we are headed. Unusually for us, we had decided where we were headed even before we left home. Having navigated along all (except one) of the waterways within easy reach of our Burgundian base of St Jean de Losne, we decided that we would like to take our boat north and base it there this winter, giving us the opportunity to explore the north of France, Belgium and possibly even parts of the Netherlands this season and next. The NZ network of boaties came up with a recommendation for a Boat Club in Antwerp. We contacted them, liked the fact that they actually replied to our email (something Blanquart's, along with most French boatyards don't bother with) and their prices, so that is where we want to be at the end of the boating season – around the first week of October for us.

From the start there were some definites in our itinerary and some bits that were (and maybe still are) a little fuzzy. The stretch of waterways that we particularly wanted to include was the part of the Canal Lateral a la Loire north/west of Decize, the Canal de Briare and the Canal du Loing, which means we've gone “backwards” (south-west) in order to head north. We've also gone over a lot of old ground (well, water really) that we travelled in 2008, our first season : 56km down the Saone, 114km along the Canal du Centre and 64km of the Canal Lateral a la Loire... We've been to some places that we've been before: Rully (although we did some wine-tasting this time), St Julien and St Leger sur Dheune, Montchanin (rain and thunder storms again!) and Digoin. We've also been to some new ones: Gergy (on the Saone) and Genelard (see pic below), a pleasant port with the bonus of plum trees with ripe fruit for the picking. It was on our 10th day out of SJL that we passed the intersection with the Canal du Nivernais at Decize and started into new territory. We had three nights in the tiny village of Fleury-sur-Loire, not because we particularly wanted to stay there that long but because we were rained in one day and the next was the 14th of July with no lock-keepers working. Fleury has good free moorings and cheap electricity, so it was a good place to be “stuck”. We did plan it more or less that way. We knew it would be a good place to sit out the bad weather but we failed to notice that the canal would be closed on the 14th – this is the first year we've actually struck that, situation, although it shouldn't come as a surprise.


For the last two nights we've been down a branch canal to Nevers, a gorgeous town on the Loire river, which we really enjoyed exploring. We also found Karen on Tursk there – we'd first encountered her on the Rhine-Rhone canal last year where we had a very pleasant evening of eating and drinking in the port at Dannemarie. This time, we enjoyed a dinner with her on our boat and supermarket and fuel shopping with her - using her car. What a bonus! Karen is one of several women we know, who stay on barges while their husbands go off to work in foreign parts for long periods. Her husband, Paul, works in marine exploration and surveying.

We've had very mixed weather – from the extremely hot and humid to cool, grey and very damp. We've spent two days moored up because of the rain and we've now moved into a period of variable days. Today we've had sunshine and warmth, wind, rain, thunder storms and then the whole lot all over again – unpredictable but not unnavigable.

We haven't found it boring to go back to places we've been before. We are going a different direction, so you get a different view of things anyway, and we're here at a different time of year and generally in different weather, so things do look different. It's nice to arrive some places and know where to find the bakery or the supermarket – and it's been a real revelation about the quality of memories. There are some places that C can remember lots about and J almost nothing, and there are others where the reverse is true. It just goes to show how unreliable memories can be.

Highlights, of the canal mechanism kind, have been two wonderful bridges – the canal 'continues' in bridge form over a river. There was the one we had already met at Digoin, where the canal crosses the Loire river and a more spectacular but less architecturally beautiful one over the Allier river, which we encountered today. It is a weird and scary experience to look out of the boat window and see that you are seemingly suspended in mid-air with the river a long way below. Add to that a brisk cross wind and you have heart in the mouth stuff. It is made all the more impressive by the fact that we then went straight into a double-lock, which brought us down about 9 metres in height in two large steps.


Tonight (17 July) we are in Cours-les-Barres (see pic below), a tiny village with a beautifully laid out port, including free electricity and water. The village can be visited in around 5-10 minutes but it has almost all the essentials of a living village – a bakery, a hairdresser and a cafe/bar/tobacconist... No florist, though. We won't be able to post this blog entry until we find somewhere bigger with wifi – that was never going to be an option here. (We did have it in Nevers for the last two days but hadn't then had the time and inclination to write anything – all these things need to be aligned.)




So, where to from here? We continue along this series of canals until we meet the Seine at St Mammes and will take that waterway into Paris (where we hope to stay in the Port de l'Arsenal just beside the Place de la Bastille) and a little beyond (turn off at Conflans Ste Honorine) as far as the Oise river and canal. We think we'll then take the Canal St Quentin to Cambrai and things get murky after that... Will have to talk to people about the nicest (open) way to get from there to Antwerp. It seems that some of the waterways are out of action so we need more information before we can work that out... We have time.

Mirabelles and memories

Sunday 17 July

Today, at the last lock we passed through, we spotted a tree laden with small, yellow fruit. “Are those mirabelles?” J asked, and received an affirmative reply from the lockkeeper. As we were locking down, C had a small amount of time to pick some of the fruit before the boat was too low in the lock to get back onto. She quickly set about the task, using her jumper as a container to hold the fruit in. Fortunately, there was a lot of ripe fruit available within easy reach. This isn't normally the case and we usually need to make use of a boat hook to bring the fruit-laden branches within reach. We left the lock with maybe a kilo of mirabelles – certainly enough to make a tart.



Mirabelles are a small and very sweet plum – a speciality of the Lorraine region. I don't think I've ever seen them in New Zealand but there is a Cafe Mirabelle in the Wairarapa, which we must visit sometime... The presence of these lovely fruit on our boat – and the promise of a tarte aux mirabelles – brought back lovely memories. One morning, two years ago, we were just about to leave our moorings when a man, who we'd never seen before, came running up to us with a bowl of mirabelles in his hands. “Here you are”, he said (except that he said it in French), “You can't leave Lorraine without tasting mirabelles” and he handed over the contents of the bowl. It was our last day in Lorraine and we hadn't tasted mirabelles during our stay, so we were delighted. (Actually we are always delighted to benefit from free food – all the more so when it is so willingly and unexpectedly given!)

You can't spend any time in Lorraine without knowing that the most famous use of the mirabelle is in a tart. So that night, we decided to make one. We didn't have a recipe but did have some ready-made short-crust pastry and decided that the simplest option might be the best. We put the pastry in the tart dish, cut the mirabelles in half to remove the stones and loaded them on top of the pastry, sprinkled a tiny bit of sugar over the top to release the juices and popped it into a hot oven to cook. The result was simply scrumptious but we decided that we probably didn't need to eat the whole thing ourselves. There was one other boat in the port that night with a middle-aged (young in canal-boating terms) Dutch couple on board as well as two huge dogs. In the spirit of sharing in which the mirabelles were offered to us, C went to the boat and offered them (the people not the dogs) the other half of our tart. They accepted with relish.

As is often the case when you are going along the same canal in the same direction, we kept finding ourselves in the same mooring spot as the Dutch couple. They were having problems with their generator and as a result, with getting their boat started. They needed jumper leads and we had some, which we've never used (although we have learned how handy it can be to have certain tools on board that you think you might never use). We were able to lend them the leads to get them started but the problem turned out to be a recurring one. They asked if they could buy the leads from us but we had no idea how much to ask. We had also (not that much earlier) benefitted enormously from the kindness of others in getting a mechanical problem sorted out, so we lent them the leads for as long as they needed them and asked that they send them back to us c/- Blanquart's in St-Jean-de-Losne. Of course, we had no idea whether they would or not but we figured that even if we had to buy new ones, we'd be ahead in the greater scheme of things. We are happy to report that when we returned to SJL at the start of 2010, there was a box waiting for us with the jumper leads and a lovely “thank you” note within.

When we make and eat our tarte aux mirabelles in the next few days, it will be done with the memory of sharing and kindness and honesty that were wrapped up in our last mirabelle experience... We might even find someone to share it with.

What we eat...

What do we eat when we are navigating French rivers and canals?

We are motivated to a large extent by getting the best possible value for our money! In saying that we want to enjoy the French options that are either not readily available at home or are expensive there. So baguettes, €0.80 ($1.50), lovely cheeses, pâtés and of course nice wine at very reasonable prices are a given. J enjoys almond croissants as a special treat and C adores the many chèvre (goat) cheeses that are available. Chicken and pork can be inexpensive here and very tender and tasty. Some supermarkets also stock frozen, whole salmon at a very reasonable price. We have a very small one in the freezer right now. We have also become fans of turkey escalopes, which are often reasonably priced and are surprisingly (to us anyway) moist, sweet and tender. Beef and lamb are very expensive and so we seldom buy them. That said, a frozen leg of NZ lamb is cheaper here than at home. We do occasionally buy one of those if we are having guests and most of it can be eaten in one go – there’s not a lot of room in the fridge you see! Tree-ripened fruit is available in supermarkets and street markets – and sometimes even straight from the trees beside the canals. They are tasty, juicy and delicious. We never find the same quality at good prices at home. This morning we bought 2kg of beautiful nectarines for €3 and we’ve been enjoying the peaches and cherries as well.

The other big limiting factor is the size of our fridge, which is about a normal beer fridge size (42cm x 48cm x 30cm, including the ice box).


Expert as we have become at packing a maximum of contents into it, there is still only so much it can take. We tend to shop frequently for fresh foods but do keep “emergency” supplies in two large bins under the bed. These include “saucisson sec” (a dried salami for inclusion in salads), canned vegetables, such as corn, peas, flageolets (my dictionary tells me it’s the same word in English but they are like dwarf broad beans without the shell) and a mix of diced vegetables called “macédoine”, which can be eaten hot or cold (usually with mayonnaise mixed through it). We quite often buy a cabbage as they keep well out of the fridge and can be used hot or cold as well. They are relatively expensive per unit but actually reasonable value because they are like cannon balls – really tightly packed and at least twice as heavy as a NZ cabbage of the same size. We also have a rooftop garden. We grow fresh herbs (basil and chives) and our own lettuce to save room in the fridge. Because of the heat (and because we like them), we eat a lot of salads. We buy oak leaf lettuces, which you can harvest several leaves at a time. We’ll have to wait a little while for this year’s lettuce crop, though. We had to buy seeds rather than seedlings (as we did last year) and they are only just poking their heads through the soil.


We enjoyed last year’s crop over the course of at least two months, so hopefully will be able to do the same this year, albeit later. The very best trick we have for making the most of fridge space, though, is to store leftovers in snaplock bags rather than hard containers. They then have a neat way of fitting into the available space.

Of course, some room needs to be kept in the fridge for liquids too. We always have a 1.5l bottle of sparkling water in it as we find this the most refreshing option for the really hot days of summer. We also keep a can of beer, a can of Schweppes lemon, a small bottle or can of tonic (yes, that’s to go with gin) and usually a bottle of wine – white or rosé (usually still but sometimes sparking). There’s also usually a 50cl (oh yes, the French often use centilitres as a measure rather than millilitres) bottle of milk. Milk and cream are relatively easy to keep as UHT is the standard here and can, therefore, be kept in the bins under the bed. It is surprisingly difficult to find fresh cream and milk in supermarkets – no large fridges full like you’d find at home!

Today, being Sunday, we had a special Sunday lunch, something we always try to do to sort of 'punctuate' the week and remind us what day of the week it is. (Truly, it can be a bit of a struggle sometimes to work it out!) Our entree was a few slices of supermarket home brand pâté en croûte (it’s a pâté cooked in pastry, not entirely unlike a pork pie in taste and consistency) costing less than NZ$1.

The main course was a piece of grilled chicken - leg and thigh – which would have cost around $2.40 for the 2 pieces, 50c would cover the cost of our vegetables - new potatoes and a large serving of fresh green beans, which we bought at the market this morning. They were “haricot verts”, French beans, and a real bargain at €1 for the unusual amount of a basin full (we estimate to be between 1.5kg and 2kg). We might have eaten a quarter of them. J loves fresh green beans! The desert was a plum sponge pudding made from plums we were welcome to pick at a lock. Many of the locks have fruit trees planted in and around them for the use of boaties. They were planted years ago when lots of commercial barges used the canals. We are very willing and grateful gatherers of free food and have, over the years, benefitted from this bonanza. We have enjoyed apples, usually in tarts or other desserts, and have made crab apples into jelly. Pears, plums, quinces are common. We are usually too late to get the cherries, but always enjoy the autumn harvests of blackberries, walnuts and hazelnuts.

What do we miss that we would have at home? Pumpkin, kumara, cream cheese and sour cream are the ones J misses most...and bacon. Nothing here quite tastes like our products, although C doesn’t see a lot of difference between sour cream and the crème fraîche, which is easily found here. We would miss Vegemite too except that we bring over sufficient quantities to see us through the season. The New World supermarket in Waiuku (near where J’s son lives) sells it in plastic tubes, which are perfect for travelling. We have hunted for a source closer to home but so far no luck… Our French friend, Christian, is horrified by this behaviour. He considers Vegemite (and Marmite and any similar product) to be a complete abomination and won’t allow it anywhere near his kitchen.

Timing is Everything... (or In praise of family and friends)

By now most of you will know that we didn't quite get the start we wanted to our European adventure this year. Due to fly out of Wellington on Thursday 23 June, the unfortunate combination of the ash from Mount Puyehue and the choice of Qantas as our airline this year saw us with the flights cancelled and a decision to make. We could either re-book on Qantas free-of-charge – but not before the 4 July – or we could book on Cathay Pacific and fly out of Auckland on Saturday 25 at some extra cost. We opted for the latter, hoping that our insurance company will make up at least some (if not all) of those costs... Looking back, we are really glad we made that decision or we would still be stuck in Wellington and – by the look of things – still in a state of uncertainty in terms of flights.

Once we did make the decision and we had to change all our plans, we once again had reason to find out exactly how wonderful our family and friends are. The lovely Graeme looked after us brilliantly at his place on Thursday night as we had cleaned and prepared our house for its new occupants and didn't want to start messing it up again. While we were there, our friends, M+M, rang to see if our car would need to be brought back from Auckland – they were prepared to fly up there and drive it back for us. We didn't need to take up the offer because we had to give up both legs of the Qantas return flight and buy a new return fare with Cathay – we'll need it to get back from Auckland when we return in October. It will stay at Mark (C's brother) and Jocelyn's in the meantime, safely tucked away in a corner beside their new house. Part of the silver lining in the new itinerary was that we got to see them and their new house on our way out. Their hospitality and airport shuttle service matched Graeme's Wellington version. We will also get to catch up with some of J's family on our return as it will be school holiday's and we don't think we'll want to face the drive to Wellington the day we get back from our long-haul flights...

Anyway, a big THANK YOU to all of you who made that time so much easier for us – or who made offers that we had to turn down!!!

There was more silver lining in the nature of the flights themselves – instead of Wellington (dep 15:10 Thurs) – Melbourne – Hong Kong – London (Heathrow) – Paris (arr 20:10 Friday), we did Auckland (dep 13:10 Sat) – Hong Kong – Paris (arr 6:30 Sun) and were able to get a train directly to Dijon in time for lunch that day rather than having to spend a night in Paris.

And there the kindness continued... We were met on the platform of the railway station by our lovely friend and insurance agent, Christian, and whisked off to his home for lunch and then a couple of days of gentle recuperation at his house. Christian was most apologetic that we wouldn't be able to borrow his Ford as we usually do because he'd lent it to his son, who had “broken” his. However, in a spot of fabulous timing, a mutual friend and fellow boatie, Francois, was also staying at Christian's place on Monday night before heading off to the UK for 10 days or so and had intended leaving his car there. He has lent it to us before and was more than happy to do so again, as long as it was back at Christian's when he returned – no problem there!

It wasn't that we needed a car to get to St Jean de Losne – a train would take us there and so would Christian. No, the main use for the car is in provisioning the boat. In the first few days, we have to stock up on food and drink (those bottles of water can be SO heavy!), as well as filling our 5 x 20 litre jerry cans with diesel and changing one of the (13kg) gas bottles. During the season, we manage to do these things (bit by bit) using our bikes, a little trolley we bought from Ikea and/or supermarket trolleys but doing it all at once at the start would be a killer...

...especially when the temperature on Tuesday, when we came to the boat for the first time, was in the vicinity of 40o! Not one of our better bits of timing. Unpacking and provisioning the boat in that sort of heat is diabolical and I have to say that we have the knack of arriving in exactly this sort of heat. In past years we've found ourselves painting cabins, sanding and painting the hull or the decks in extremely high temperatures.

Arriving later in the season obviously does have some advantages, though. Instead of having to push the boatyard to get anything done on the boat or to have it put in the water, Guy (head of the workshop and driver of the crane) met us on our arrival with an offer to put us in the water that afternoon - an offer we accepted without hesitation. If we refused then, who would know when it might next be possible?

Being in the water didn't mean we were going anywhere though... Those of you following the blog last season may remember the tale of the broken dipstick, which was the final instalment of last season's navigating. Having determined that it wouldn't be necessary to remove the broken part of the stick from the sump, we had asked Blanquart's to simply order a new dipstick for us for this season – and as a back-up, had ordered one at home as well. Of course, neither of them actually fitted our motor properly. The one Blanquart's had ordered sits nicely in its tube but is too short (although long enough to just show some oil when the tank is filled to its recommended capacity) and the one we had ordered is about the right length but the rubber top is too big for the tube. Instead of trying to get yet another one (with the encumbent costs and delay), we've decided to make do with the former in the meantime while we try and sand the latter down to an approriately tight fitting. One thing we have learnt is that it is almost invariably the little things that trip us up rather than the big ones. Getting new wiper blades, for example – but that's another story.

Anyway, it only took us a day to sort the dipstick problem and get off the canalside, where we were put into the water. We've been settled in the marina since Wednesday afternoon and are quietly licking the boat into shape. Well, not licking really – but scrubbing, washing, wiping, dusting, sorting and tidying. There is still a lot more to do but it is starting to feel like home again. After that first day, the weather has settled back to a very acceptable temperature in the early to mid-twenties during the day and pleasantly cool at night.

Tomorrow is Sunday and we'll have been in France for exactly a week. It feels more like a month . We have paid our bill at the boatyard and the weather forecast for the next week is looking good. We will set off early in the morning down the Saone towards the Canal du Centre, then on to Paris and Belgium. We know how we'll get to Paris but will make up the rest as we go along. We'll look forward to your company on our journey.