Unexcused Absences France 2016 – Week 2 (he said)

France 2016 – Week 2 (he said)

by Kent 25 Jul 2016

July 17 to July 23, 2016. After the big party in Paris Saturday night we slept in to a deliciously late 10am, then packed up the car and drove back along the Marne River to Toul, where Après Ski has been parked for the past 5 days or so.

Toul Cathedral sound-and-light show

We decided to stay in town one more day to catch up on email and other activities after our crazy schedule during the past week. It wasn’t hard to make the decision to stay since there is a truly spectacular boulangerie just across the street from the port de plaisance. When we finally got going we cruised seven hours to a rural mooring at Sauvoy, on the Marne-Rhine canal 7 locks from the summit at Mauvages. Heather pulled out the stops and cooked an amazing Boeuf Bourgignon dinner. We had to be careful to eat this where no one could see us, because I paired the dinner with a delicious Bordeaux wine (a St. Martin Listrac-Médoc 2010), and we are well aware of the faux pas of drinking Bordeaux wine with this most classic Burgundy recipe. But because we were at a rural mooring, we got away with it.

Boeuf Bourgignon with (shhhh…) Bordeaux wine

The next day we continued to the summit, where we passed through the 4.8km (almost 3 mile) Mauvages tunnel, amazingly only the second longest one in the French canal network. At a prudently reduced speed it took the better part of 50 minutes to transit the tunnel. Interestingly, a VNF worker accompanied us on his bike the entire way. For the past day and a half we have been in completely new territory for us, and each year it gets harder to find unconquered stretches of canal. We will soon be back on familiar ground in Champagne, but hope to once again visit unexplored waterways by traveling first on the Marne to Paris and then on the Seine back to Burgundy for the winter.

Inside the almost 5km Mauvages Tunnel

Once out the other side of the summit tunnel we began a month-long stretch of downhill travel. The canal here winds through beautiful countryside, with hills alternately covered in wheat fields or forest. We found a picnic table and some shade from a tree above lock 11 at Tréveray. Both the shade (and the 50 minutes in the tunnel) were appreciated because the outside temperature was over 90 degrees.

Beautiful rural parking spot

I have to mention, too, the clarity of the water. Since Toul, the water has been clear enough to see all the way to the bottom (although the canal is admittedly only 5 feet deep). Normally there is only a foot or so of visibility, if that. There were some impressive trout, and we were puzzled that the nationwide armada of French pêcheurs (fishermen) do not yet seem to have discovered this part of the canal network.

Really clear water in the canal

From Tréveray we descended 22 locks in 22 kilometers to Tannois. We parked at a VNF chantier (work yard), and the only thing of note was a sign we saw next to a train crossing. It basically laid out, over multiple paragraphs and in excruciating detail, what would happen if someone interfered with the operation of the automatic crossing gate. What could probably have been covered by a short sign along the lines of “don’t interfere with the crossing gate” was instead:

“It is strictly forbidden to prevent the operation of this installation. An offender exposes himself to judicial prosecution. The approach of a train is announced by; illumination of red flashing lights; the ding of a bell; the lowering of the half barriers. Anyone who finds an abnormality in the functioning of this installation is asked to inform the chief of the (preferably nearby) train station.” And then this is followed by phone numbers for the relevant authorities.

Train crossing alert written by an American lawyer

Making sure to not interfere, we continued our short walk around the village. Thursday morning we finished this week’s cruise and moored up in Bar-le-Duc. We needed a secure spot to park the boat for our weekend trip to Brussels. I hopped on a train and rode the hour back to Toul to retrieve our rental car and buy some more bread from the delicious boulangerie I mentioned earlier.

A chateau in Bar-le-Duc

That evening we met Doug and Flora, two Scots on their boat Liberté. They know our friends Jan and Bill (La Bonne Vie), whom we’ve known now for two summers. They seemed to enjoy French cheese as much as we do, so for once we were not embarrassed by how much of this French delicacy we consumed.

Friday we drove the Voie Sacrée (the famous WW I supply line between Bar-le-Duc and Verdun) on our way to Brussels. Heather’s Dad and his wife were passing through on business, so we had arranged a weekend getaway with them. We rented a large apartment rental a few blocks from the tourist walking district, and the four of us managed to check off all the required elements of a weekend in Belgium. Visit to see the Manneken Pis? Check. Beer at À La Mort Subite? Check. Waffles from a street vendor? Gourmet Chocolate? Mussels in Brussels? Check, check, and check.

Crowds at the Manneken Pis in Brussels

The house beer at À La Mort Subite was interesting. “Interesting,” in the same way you answer when the waiter asks how you liked the house specialty, “sheep’s kidney in a broth of stomach lining”, you just ate. “Mort Subite” translates as “Sudden Death,” but it could just as easily translate as “famous Belgian beer that tastes like sour work-out socks, and not in a good way.”

The main tourist square in Brussels

But we survived both the famous beer and the Brussels terrorist community and had a great visit with Dave and Cynthia. On our way home to Bar-le-Duc we stopped in Dinant, a Belgian town near the French border we had visited by boat two years earlier. Favorite wife wanted to stop at her favorite Belgian restaurant, Chez Bouboule. Their version of moules-frites (steamed mussels and fries) with a curry cream sauce was even better than we remembered.

Brussels town hall

Brussels stock exchange

Moules-frites in Dinant

Evening in the Brussels dining district

While waiting for the restaurant to open we saw a very strange thing, even for Europe; we heard a marching band coming around the corner, and looked up to see the band all riding bicycles. For instruments that required two hands to play, the bike was a tandem with a dedicated pedaler/driver, and for instruments that called for only one hand, the pedaler/driver/musician were the same person. The only thing that came to mind was, “only in Europe.”