MiscellaneaUS

Our route has taken us down the Rive Saône, from its navigable beginnings at tiny Corre to the small village of St. Jean de Losne, the boating center of France or so we are informed regularly.  But of course we knew that, which is precisely why we are here.

It's a sweet, easy trip down the gentle, ever expanding Saône with just a few locks, only two shortish tunnels, friendly stops, ancient towns and this time, great weather.  The scenery and company ain't so bad either. 

The church is usually the biggest thing around

Except for the occasional old Norman keep

A pleasant overnight stop after a short day of Rive Saône cruising

More bread, more bread, s’il vous plait

If you happen to be in Gray, France and pass by the street level window between those two cars and a disheveled looking older woman opens that window asking you in rapid French if the date written on the tattered piece of paper she's holding is right, do cut her some slack. She's just trying to keep it together......and aren't we all. 

We hate tunnels even when you can see the light at the end of 'em

Reserved for dogs? Not this dog says Yogi.

To enter a lock, you sidle the boat up to a blue tube hanging over the water, grab it and twist it to get a red and green light showing the lock is ready to start its automatic operation. In the beginning of our short trip, after the twist, we would shove Yogi-dog below, closing the door so he would be out of our way and safe while we were locking through.

After our third lock, Mr. Smarty-pants would watch me twist a blue tube then head below decks all by himself. His seeming cooperation didn't prevent him from complaining extra loudly all through the locking process, though. Everyone within 5 kilometers heard when Echo was in a lock.

If one wants to sell something its best to have it where many people are looking to buy.
It is time to sell our Echo-boat so that's why we are in St. Jean de Losne.  Appropriately, we hope to end this phase where we began it. This is the town we first came to start our search for our first canal boat, Chapter III.  It's a full circle deal.

In the two weeks we've had the boat for sale, we haven't exactly being inundated with people clamoring to buy this boat. We'll probably have a long time to wait before our buyer shows up.....if ever.

But this is the place to be for the moment, our moment looks to last until the end of September when we're due to return to Arizona.

In the meantime, there are people to meet, bicycle rides to take, an English/German/French lending library, concerts on the town's quay every Friday night and sunshine to soak up.
We can do that. 

 

Our sign of the times (h2ofrance.com)

Little Surprises

In Soing, a tiny ville with a very Yogi-friendly halt fluvial, a local man with a basket-full of freshly picked young produce came by our boat. Even though his prices were exorbitant, we bought a bunch of baby carrots because they were gorgeously beautiful, although we complained to each other about the price we were forced to pay for a measly bunch of carrots.

Now, those are carrots!

We hadn't remembered how carrots were supposed to taste. For a long time, we've eaten large tough orange sticks cut in various ways; round shapes, oval shapes, crinkle cut....sliced and diced to make you think you are eating a baby carrot. Pshaw!

Our advise to anyone, forget the grocery store. Just plant some seeds, wait a bit, water a bit and then join us in rediscovering carrots.

What's that traveling down the highway?

Golly, it's a horse-drawn camper

Turn right just past the replica of the Eiffel Tower for the campground

Small -- sure, charming -- you betcha!

A well deserved rest with oats for a couple of hungry draft horses.

 

 

 

It was mom and dad with their two pre-schoolers out for a a four day camping trip through rural France. I really can't think of a better way for small children to spend their time than watching the fat rump of a good looking horse, can you?

Settling In -- Temporarily

New sights, new friends, different smells and sounds. It's always exciting to be on the move but there are some quiet pleasures that can come your way when you settle down for a spell.

The Way Into Town

We have been here in Corre for over a month now, waiting to have a new toilet installed, waiting for rain to pass so we can get some outside painting done and waiting for our banks to transfer our few piddling funds around.

So now, our new toilet has been installed and while the rain hasn't completely passed, we've managed to get a little painting done between the drops. Some money is beginning to float from one paltry account to another. It seems that we might be getting close to the end of our stay.

Leaving here will be almost like leaving home. We've gotten used to the rhythm and the sounds of this place. The morning and evening cawing of the hundreds of crows living in the trees next to the marina, the lowing of the cattle pastured across the canal, the mewing of our new cat friend who follows us around waiting to be fed. We know that the grocery store is closed for lunch two hours each day, that the boulangerie opens at 6:30am, that the baker brings his truck here on Sunday morning, that the pizza truck shows up in the town's square Monday and Thursdays and where to go for a deliciously cool draft beer on a warm afternoon.

The deck of the marina's restaurant

 We've met and gotten to know some of the people in this marina.  We will miss them.

Kathy, an artist, a designer, a linguist, a gutsy lady. A new friend who is always there, eager to help when a translation or design advise is needed.  Modest but adventuresome, Kathy will single-handle her sailboat to Majorca later this summer.

Kathy and her dog, Baerli

• Jean-Pierre, the jolly capitaine of this marina who can fix almost anything. A man whose favorite expression is "pas de probleme" and who still serenades us in the evenings by blowing a few tunes through his long and melancholy sounding alpenhorn.

• The always smiling Doris (Mrs. Jean-Pierre) whose vigilance in keeping the public bathrooms clean and the marina's flower pots chock full of blooms never goes un-noticed or under appreciated by us or anyone who pass through here.

Flowers and just swept porch

• The same friendly lady from the boat Gryffindor that we met last fall and now her mission in life, at least this spring, is to help us learn to speak better French. 
• Carmella, her pleasant husband and their dog (Yogi's best marina-doggie friend) who helped us sell a desk we bought in Holland which had turned out to be unsuitable for this Echo boat.
• A Swiss couple forced, because of health problems, to sell their beloved and meticulously maintained boat after 20 years of ownership. She and I shared a nostalgic tear one evening....but that's our secret.
• The frail, slow-moving older gentlemen whose boat is brimming with and over-burdened by deferred maintenance, so unlike his current bikini-clad lady friend whom he refers to as "de new voman".
  

 
So on to a few words about toilets. We have finally moved into the 21st century...what a relief.

The new addition to Echooooo

And we suspect that this is the way Doris keeps the marina's public restroom so clean....tough consequences!

Take a seat, s'il vous plait

Probably no translation needed -- a dire fate indeed!

Who Needs Words?

Because this took awhile we sped up the film a wee bit. That's why everyone's walking like Charlie Chaplin, even Yogi

Well, actually we do. We are in the water but yet to get our new toilet installed. 

France is a lovely country with nice people, wonderful cheese, wine and croissants but they have a small problem with schedules, staggered lunch hours and re-stocking shelves.

'Nuff said, we are in the water.....dans l'eau!

Corre - A Small Village with Great Courage, Memorial Day 2012

Corre's Memorial with fresh flowers at its base, May 2012

Names of those killed, shot or deported

Translates as "Mecca of Resistance"

 

 To the people of Corre -- they didn't give up and they haven't forgotten.

 Written during the First World War by Canadian physician, Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

      Between the crosses, row on row,

   That mark our place; and in the sky

   The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

   Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

         In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

   The torch; be yours to hold it high.

   If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

         In Flanders fields.

 

A Corre poppy blooming in remembrance May 2012

Written by Alan Seeger, serving as a volunteer for the French Army during WWI

(Alan Seeger was the paternal uncle of musician Pete Seeger)

I have a rendezvous with Death

At some disputed barricade,

When Spring comes back with rustling shade

And apple blossoms fill the air--

I have a rendezvous with Death

When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

 

It may be he shall take my hand,

And lead me into his dark land,

And close my eyes and quench my breath--

It may be I shall pass him still.

I have a rendezvous with Death

On some scarred slope of battered hill,

When Spring comes round again this year

And the first meadow flowers appear.

 

God knows 'twere better to be deep

Pillowed in silk and scented down,

Where Love throbs out in blissful sleep,

Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,

Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .

But I've a rendezvous with Death

At midnight in some flaming town,

When Spring trips north again this year;

And I to my pledged word am true,

I shall not fail that rendezvous.

Welcome home to Corre, France....or is it welcome boat to Fluvial-Loisirs, Haute Soane.

Here we finally are and have been for 6 days...well, 5-3/4 to be exact or 4-1/2 work days to be exacter.

Naturally, the boat is still out of the water, we are still climbing the 7 foot ladder whenever we want to use the head, etc., etc.; still hauling poor Yogi-dog up and down by snapping him into his life jacket then attaching his life jacket to a long rope and no, he doesn't like it.

Getting Snapped In

Ready for the Big Drop

On His Way Down

Surprises on our return?  Of course. Like dopes, last September we failed to drain the water heater's tank which of course froze, which ruined a gasket, which resulted in 52 gallons of water pouring into the bilge instead of into the fresh water tank when we tried to fill up. Emptying that was good fun, especially since we had to empty it more than once. Basic boating lesson number one; look in the bilge before trying to refill the water tank.

Other than that, everything is pretty much as we left it, give or take a few minor leaks. We haven't tried to start the engine yet so keep your fingers and ears crossed for us.

The trip was long but relatively uneventful. I must brag about our sweet little dog now, so if you are not a dog person, skip this part.

Yogi was unbelievable. In the awful mess that was the Las Vegas airport baggage claim, Dwight decided to go off alone to capture our luggage. After forever, when he didn't return to our meeting place and wouldn't answer his phone, I had to go looking for him. I figured that no one would steal our brown carry-on bag with a small black dog attached to it, so after tying Yogi and the brown bag together and putting Yogi into a down/stay in a relatively quiet place, I elbowed my way through the pandemonium. After circling a nearly empty luggage carousel, without any sign of Dwight or our luggage, I returned to a somewhat worried-looking little dog who had been nervously staring at a sea of ankles and shoe tops. But, by golly, he was where I'd put him, he hadn't moved an inch. Great dog.......and he was that way during the whole trip, despite being hungry, nervous, scared, bored and desperate for a potty break.

On many airline flights, the flight attendants are nice, polite but relatively faceless. Not this time. On our JFK to Zurich leg, I noticed one flight attendant shuffling up and down the aisles instead of striding with purpose, as most do. I poked Dwight in the ribs and pointed to the shuffler because I thought that Dwight, who had just celebrated his 79th birthday, could do with a little elderly company. During our 7 hour flight, we spoke many times to nice Stephen, discovering that he and Dwight had been born in the same year, 1933, so we knew immediately how many birthdays he'd had. Stephen was born in Vienna but he and his family escaped to Australia in 1938; an excellent move in that particular year. Working for the airlines for 23 years with no plans for retirement, he's become one of our heroes. Flight attendants have a hard job so we figure if he can do his job, we can do ours. Thanks, Stephen and happy flying.

We've done part of our job, our boat's bottom has a new paint job. Now it's time for the hull to get a nice new coat of white. That's for next week, if we are not rained out. And if we are, it will give our very sore muscles time to heal. Need to lose weight....buy a boat!

Last night I broke our camera so there will be no pictures until our new 14 megapixel model is delivered. Hurry, hurry delivery service, it's spring with flowers, birds, new growth and calm waters posing all around us, demanding to have their pictures taken.

A Record?

An Old Couple (of what?) With Their Little Dog

Happy birthday to Dwight, celebrating his 79th birthday this merry month of May. In September I will celebrate my three-quarters-of-a-century birthday. Does that make us officially old? Despite our ages, I fervently hope we never hear ourselves referred to as being spry.  We are much too big to be spry.

Does anyone know of a couple older than we are who still float around the European canals in their own boat?  If so, we sure would like to meet them. If not, we are contacting the Guinness Book of Records.

Our bags are almost ready to be zipped up for our return to Echooooo and, this year, we are looking forward to getting back to the boat. We haven't decided where we will go but an itinerary is bound to turn up if we chat with enough people about canal and river conditions. 

We would like to stick to the smaller, less traveled canals, though. We've had enough of big rivers with big traffic. A quiet country mooring where Yogi-dog can feel free to use our passerelle when he wants would be perfect. Throw in a few morning songs from les oiseaux, a nearby grocery store for Dwight and some electricity for my sewing machine and we would be happy campers.    

We just might find it. Stay tuned and we'll let you know when we do.

Momentarily off the subject of boats, here are a couple of links to web sites which tickled our fancy when we weren't thinking in a marinely manner over the winter.  

The first is a highly inventive way of reusing those ubiquitous 1 liter plastic bottles.  Genius!

http://www.isanglitrongliwanag.org

And not to be outdone, Volkswagen sponsored a nifty little contest with such a terrific theme that you just gotta' love that company and their cars.

http://www.thefuntheory.com/ 

 

Lost

Yogi's ready to travel

Witch doctors and shamans believe dreams can foretell the future while Dr. Freud seemed to think our dreams struggle with the present or past, trying to make sense of our lives.


Right now I'll go with the good Austrian doctor. All last night my dreams were that something was missing. I would wake, then sleep, then wake again; apparently very disturbed....poor me!


It came to me this morning that what I am missing are the slippery days of February and March  2012.  Did anyone see those 60 days whiz by? I know I was here because no one reported me missing but how did I manage to misplace 1,440 hours? 


Here it is the 3rd of April and we are leaving for our Echo boat on May 8......May 8! 


Ready or not here we come.

For Auld Lang Syne

I wonder why I keep them?  Of course, I thumb through our old log books to get ideas for this blog but, as far as I know, Dwight has never looked at them and I'll bet he never will.


There are 6 logs in this house, the first one written in 1988. Then there is another log on board Echo in France, just waiting for some 2012 stories.

Puget Sound with Mt. Ranier looming nicely way back there

I suppose the real mystery is not why I keep old logs, but what I've managed to forget. How did we get lost bicycling through Vancouver's Stanley Park; what July 4th celebration with French locals dressed as British and American soldiers; how could I have forgotten all the engine trouble with Chapter III....every third or fourth log entry has a complaint about that motor coughing or smoking or stopping, and then there is the cryptic note in the Chapter III log that we were having trouble with Jeff. Who forged my handwriting, we've never had trouble with any Jeff!

Chapter III in a lock somewhere in France

Why do some scenes stick? If I remember the night our Cap'n Kitty fell overboard, a traumatic experience for all three of us, then why can't I remember the day another boat wanted to rescue us because we anchored our sailboat, Espejo, in the wrong place during a 48 knot blow. That must have been a little hair raising, too. I certainly do remember Cap'n Kitty bringing a live mouse into my bed one night but not that the cat smelled like a skunk. Must be true, the log says so.
  
And the places mentioned; where is Playa Chiquita or Jewfish Cay or Los Frailes and why can't I recall Misy sur Yonne?

We Three off the coast of Mexico

Ah well, I suppose I can put it all down to too many memories and not enough brain power, but I do treasure the many scenes that manage to float up through my foggy mind like cream on milk. A sleepy island in Puget Sound where the only noise was the crisp clip-clop of a deer's hooves as it crossed a macadam road; the night a very tired frigate bird tried to sleep in our rigging while we were sailing off the coast of Mexico; the morning smells of baking bread in small French towns, yum.

Cap'n Kitty aboard Chapter III watching the French countryside roll by

Then there are a few things I don't have to concentrate on remembering because they just don't change.  In one long ago log entry I complained that Dwight chose an unsafe spot to tie up making getting on and off the boat a bit dicey for our Cap'n Kitty. The same thing happened last summer with Echo....poor Yogi-dog!


So let's raise our glasses for a toast to the memorable, the unmemorable, the unchanging, the ever-changing.....to the New Year and to us.

The three of us high above Lake Tahoe, Christmas 2011