Some miscellaneous updates: The Metro in Valencia is not running. It will be opening line by line in the coming days. The regional trains running north are in service, but not to the south, which is where the flooding occurred. There are efforts underway to take care of cats and dogs. Pet stores are collecting donations. Some 15000 military personnel are in or on the way to effected areas. I can not tell how much heavy equipment has arrived and been put to work, though I saw a long line of farm tractors going into one of the towns . The king, prime minister and president of Valencia Comunitat (the provincial government) were pelted with mud in Paiporta yesterday. Trash service in Valencia is back on so that means they can get to the landfills and recycling centers, other than the organic waste. That container is still full.
Picnaya is divided by the Rambla del Poyo. Four of the five bridges are gone, the one remaining carries vehicles. The town of Torrent, next to Picanya, is nearly impossible to get to because of road damage and blockages. It is the second largest town in the province of Valencia.
World Central Kitchen was serving hot meals in Paiporta yesterday. The founder is a famous Spanish chef. I have donated along with a number of friends. It is a reliable charity. Please consider donating World Central Kitchen
Trucks and cars were thrown around like corks
Car and debris everywhere
Flooding happened on streets with parked cars and traffic
After the center street has been cleared
Farm tractors showing up to go to work
This shows where the Rambla del Poyo is. You can see a number of the effected communities along that gully.
At a large shopping center called Bonaire there is a 1700 car underground parking lot. It filled with water. There was much fear that many victims died in their cars. They have been pumping it out for days and finally they can get in. There are no victims, fortunately.
Elsewhere one man spent 11 hours in a tree before he was rescued. Another was taken in by a truck driver. They waited it out in the cab. One woman left work as usual at 5pm. Before long she was caught between two branches of the flood. She took a video, sent it to her brother, who told her to get out of the car or she would die. She exited the car and was underwater immediately. “”But at that moment, one of those white canisters that are in the countryside hit me in the belly, pushing me to the surface and crashing me into an orange tree. With my right foot, I leaned a little on the nozzle of the canister and gained enough momentum to stay afloat.” (Las Provincias https://www.lasprovincias.es/comunitat/pase-horas-arbol-jose-manuel-socorrio-20241105003020-nt.html )
There are many heart warming reports of rescues, in some cases by people risking their lives to help others. Sonia, Carmen, Eva, Pepa y Fran were rescued. They were in the water when a man came swimming to tell them to follow him to where they could join others in a building. The window was illuminated still and they followed him there.
There was heavy flooding in Barcelona yesterday from the same type of meteorological system, called DANA in Spanish, that caused the devastation in Valencia province on September 29. Roads and airport closed.
Flooding in Barcelona on November 4, video in English
My writing here is ordinarily focused on our travels, be it by air, land or boat. I diverge from these now. I think that these stories have some general interest. Also I write about these matters for my direct heirs and other relatives, that they may know about those who came before them.
The Italian side
We were told that my mother’s family came from Palermo, and that on my father’s side the origin was Irish.
In 2010 I decided to seek Italian citizenship by what the Italians call ‘Jure Sangris,” by blood. Under that law I was able to proceed through my mother, as I was born after 1948, when the law changed, allowing maternal proceedings. My mother was born in the US so I went through her father, Giuseppe he was born in Italy and thus had clearly been a citizen of Italy. We were told he and my grandmother were born in Palermo.
.To obtain Italian citizenship by Jure Sangris requires that you obtain the birth certificate of the person through whom you make the claim. So I would be going to be dealing with Palermo’s bureaucracy. I lived in Rome for a year so spoke some Italian but probably not enough to do this task. I also knew that Palermo suffered bombing damage in WWII so documents might have been destroyed. I would be dealing with underpaid and perhaps harried public servants. I wondered how well Italians would care for and organize documents.
I also had to find out if my grandfather had naturalized (become a US citizen) and if so when. If before my mother’s birth then she was not an Italian citizen so I could not become one. Otherwise she was and so was I by law, as the bloodline had not been interrupted.
The US government keeps records of everyone who has naturalized. If they can not find a record, then they send a document saying so, and the Italian authorities take that as meaning the person in question had not naturalized, so the application can proceed. You get naturalization documents through the Department of Homeland Security at https://www.uscis.gov/records/genealogy. That document states the person’s birth place. When Giuseppe’s arrived I found that he was not born in Palermo, but Partanna, a small town in the province of Trapani. A letter from Kathy Kirkpatrick (no direct relative), whom I had previously employed to find Giuseppe’s birth certificate, brought me a copy of Giuseppe’s birth and marriage certificates from a cooperative and efficient Anagrafe office in Partanna. The marriage certificate in turn led me to grandmother Francesca’s birthplace in Santa Ninfa, 6 kilometers way and over the hills, although in my case nothing about her mattered as I was proceeding only through Giuseppe. Years later I visited both towns in this rural area, neither terribly far from the infamous Corleone.
The paternal side
On my father’s side there were even more surprises. In my immediate family we were told that the family came from Ireland. In 2016 my wife and I were house and cat sitting at a friend’s house in Flackwell Heath, near Oxford, England. There is a library just down the street. I walked over and it was there that I learned that the Kirkpatricks originated in or around the tiny town of Kirkpatrick-Fleming, not in Ireland, but Scotland.
Then circa 2020 I used ancestry.com to try to trace my family origins. Starting with the excellent work of Arkansas relatives whose work went back to around the time of the Civil War, I traced the family back to 12th century Scotland. Ireland came into the picture around 1737, when Dumfries Scotland born James Kirkpatrick’s son Francis was born in Ireland, probably Northern Ireland as that’s where the Protestant Scots went rather than the Catholic area of the island. (The Arkansas relatives were told of a joint Scottish and Irish heritage, per one of my 56 first cousins)
They weren’t there for long. His first child, Francis, was born in Ireland but from the records I have found it appears he was the only one of five born there. So we do technically have Irish roots from Ireland but it was more of a stopping off point. For centuries before then and back to the time before people had family names Scotland was our land.
I was quite surprised to learn that the Kirkpatrick family is well known in Scottish history, starting with Roger de Kirkpatrick, a neighbor and close ally of Robert the Bruce (originally Brus or Brux, a town in France). Robert was king of Scotland 1306-29. The Kirkpatrick family motto, “I Mak Sikkr” (I Made Sure) was granted by King Bruce to acknowledge the role Roger played in the slaying of Robert’s chief rival for the throne, Red Cormyn. See my post at https://garyjkirkpatrick.com/i-mak-sikker-roger-de-kirkpatrick-and-robert-the-bruce-king-of-scotland/
I Mak Sikkr, at the Closeburn Parish Church
During the course of this phase of my investigation I learned of the castle built by Ivone de Kirkpatrick starting circa 1132. It is called Closeburn Castle as it is in the town of Closeburn. It is still with us and is the longest continuously inhabited castle tower in the UK. It remains inhabited to this day. I also found out that the Kirkpatrick family holds an United Kingdom baronetcy dating from 1685. No one is qualified to hold the title is alive today. The last one died in 2010. My connection to any of the people mentioned above is quite distant. See my post at https://garyjkirkpatrick.com/journey-to-century-13th-the-family-castle-in-closeburn
My mother’s side came to the US from Sicily as early as 1913 when a Francesca Augello (my grandmother) went through Ellis Island , and again in 1914 (Giuseppe my grandfather) and 1915. Among those on the ship coming from Naples on January 2nd, 1915 was a young man named Matteo Calzanera. As children we called him Uncle Mathew. He was accompanied by his sister Anna Palermo, aka Annette, whom we called Auntie, and their grandmother, Sebastiana Rubino, after whom my mother was named per tradition. As Palermo was my grandfathers family name, why was Matteo’s last name Calzanera? Why did my grandfather Giuseppe refer to Matteo as his wife Francesca’s son and not their son? If Guiseppe was not the father, who was?
In 2018 I requested a copy of Matteo’s birth certificate in an effort to clear up this mystery. I ordered if from Partanna on the presumption that he was born there, and it turned out that he was indeed. These birth certificates normally include the names of the mother and father. In Mathew’s case, neither the father nor the mother’s name is recorded. Until or unless someone sorts this out, this mystery remains unsolved.
On October 29, 2024, Paiporta and Picanya, both in the province of Valencia and on the south edge of the city of Valencia, and 13 other communities on the west and south side of Valencia were heavily damaged by a raging flood causing over 200 deaths and counting. Bodies are still being pulled from the wreckage. This came about as a result of 19″ inches of rain in the hills to the north and west of the city of Valencia, which itself got little rain in addition to a fair amount of wind. This deluge is the equivalent of a year’s worth of rain in a few hours.
This type of storm is called a DANA, Depresión Aislada en Niveles Altos, a High Altitude Isolated Depression The jet stream drops further south than normal, bringing cold air that then collided with the warm moist air over the Med. Once this mass of very moist air hit the hills the temperature dropped. The result was some 19″ of rain that was funneled into a large gully called the Rambla del Poyo, which is normally dry. It is not deep and wide enough for this much water all at once. A raging wall of water overflowed the banks.
Wreckage like this can be found in the effected villages.
This disaster one is worse than that of 1957, when 100 died when the central part of the city was flooded by the Turia River. They are still rescuing people trapped in buildings. They found one person alive in their car after three days. Most houses do not have running water nor electricity, while some still have mobile phone service so we are hearing from them. Volunteers and government workers are bringing water, food and supplies. Over 10,000 volunteers were organized and bussed in today, November 2nd.
A residence for seniors/disabled inundated
One tornado touched town
Provincial authorities are coming under some fire for failing to warn people in time. Alerts were sent out via mobile, but people in the effected villages are saying either that they never received one or that it came within minutes of when the flood waters slammed into their houses and cars. I received a warning at 9:30 pm long after the disaster occurred. If you were not following the news you would have had no idea there was a problem.
There were thousands on the roads and highways when the flood waters prevented further progress. Some of them died, most of them have lost their vehicles to the damages inflicted by water, mud and collisions with other vehicles, houses, trees and the like.
Upon our return to Valencia we were greeted with this parade. It is Valencia Day here, and for the people here any excuse for a party or parade will do. The costumes are fantastic and if there is one thing Valencia is not lacking it’s musicians. Each group of Moros/Cristianos has its own band, and they are sizable too. Check it out!
Germany was not yet a nation in 1870 when war broke out between France and the North German Federation. It resulted in the loss of Alsace and Lorraine. The French built the Canal de l’Est afterwards to replace the transport it had lost. The canal begins just a short distance from Nancy. In 2003 the northern and southern branches were officially renamed Canal de la Meuse and Canal des Vosges. We spent the last days of this season on the Canal de la Meuse.
“I reviewed every whodunit I have ever watched, every story of psychotic serial killers.”
Night sets into the blackness
As you round the corner to enter the Canal de la Meuse there is a small town called Richardménil. We pulled into Its a lovely mooring. There are picnic tables and electricity. The narrowing Moselle runs alongside the canal. There is no bike path on this side of the canal so we were alone, aside from the nearby house hidden by the trees, with a large German Shepherd who greeted some of the occasional passers by heading for the footbridge leading to the paved path on the opposite side. Only one other boat came by while we were here and for the following four days.
The adjacent small town is up a steep hill. I biked there to get a baguette- a ‘tradition’ actually. This is a baguette made as they were made before modern methods turned the baguette into a less desirable product so I always ask for a ‘tradition.’
With very warm temperatures on the way we headed up the canal, climbing towards the source of the Moselle. This means we are entering emptied locks. These locks in particular are very difficult to use. The bollards are three meters or so above our heads. There are no holds for the bow other than the activating mechanism’s flimsy pipes, whereas in many locks there are holds built into the walls. To secure the stern I had to climb on the roof, using the hook to place the line over the bollard. We held on tight as the water gushed in turbulently. You rise quickly, hoping not to lose control.
We spent the next three days in the shade as temperatures climbed to 32c/90f outside the little town of Bayon. We grilled on our tiny charcoal barby and prepped some surfaces for later painting. People biked along the narrow, paved bike path, the small bridge crossing the lock just a few meters away. Up the road is a a roadside burger stand. We stopped there one day as the chef was just arriving. The friendly owner gave us a menu, and invited us back. We returned the next day. The burgers are good but not great despite the 5 stars awarded on Google maps, while costing us $40 for two with fries and a bottle of beer. This isn’t exactly cheap. A hundred meters closer to the canal a fete was forming. On Saturday night there was live music, a typical over the hill rock band, referring to their age. They weren’t half bad, especially considering how deep in the countryside we are.
A few people came walking alone late at night, well after midnight, wearing a headlamp, the light on their forehead bobbing in the pitch black mist. As they passed in silence with just a small door separating us, I reviewed the whodunits I have watched, stories of psychotic serial killers. But these were just people walking in the dark.
Penn Bagdley as the charming, loving, affirming yet psychopathic murderer Joe Goldberg in ‘You.”
The heat wave passed after several days. The important town of Epinal lay some thirty locks ahead. The French water authorities had issued a notice stating that the canal south of Epinal was closed effective several days previously. We called the harbor in Epinal to see if it was closed, which they answered in the affirmative. We could have stopped short of Epinal and taken the bus into town. Since we would then have to turn around to got to our winter harbor, repeating the same 30 locks, we decided to forgo the journey. We headed back north for the winter, ending our boating season by gathering with some of the friendly and interesting people we’d met along the way. This year it’s Australians , with one Brit couple, one Belgium and one French.
After another beautiful cruise through the gorgeous Vosges Mountains (see The Grand Est), this time with friends, we came back to Nancy, one of France’s delightful cities and the capital of the Lorraine. Nancy (Gallic Nanciaco, possibly from a Gaulish personal name) has a wonderful pedestrian old town center stuffed with restored half timber buildings. The city’s a center point of Art Nouveau, magnificently displayed in the Musee de l’Ecole de Nancy. Place Stanilas (1750), the impressive main plaza, is named after Stanislaus 1, king of Poland, Grand Duke of Lithuania and duke of Lorraine. The plaza is lined with magnificent 18th century structures including the Hotel de Ville (City Hall). It’s a great city to walk around day or night. All this and more in a city of just 140,000.
What in the world was the Polish king doing in Nancy? He was the father-in-law of the French king Louis XV. When Stanislas was exiled from Poland, the Duchy of Lorraine was vacant due to the departure of Duke Francois, who traded this duchy for one in Tuscany, so Louis slotted in Stanislas. As his rule was nominal, he did not anger too many people. Perhaps that’s why a Polish king’s statue remains in the center of a famous and impressive square.
Place Stanilas is a short walk from the city’s marina. There’s a daily light show. The king’s statute from behind.
One of Nancy’s medieval gates in the old town
Cathédrale Notre-Dame-de-l’Annonciation et Saint-Sigisbert, was built in the 17th and 18th centuries in the Baroque style popularized by the Roman Catholic Church. King Sigebert III of Austrasia is buried here. After he was declared a saint the cathedral became a pilgrimage destination. Austrasia was the northeastern kingdom of the Frankish empire during the Early Middle Ages.
Nancy is a bit hilly so we took the bus to the l’Musee Ecole de Nancy (the Museum of the School of Nancy). It’s in a plushly furnished mansion, the former home of Eugène Corbin, a major patron of the Art Nouveau movement here. The movement started in 1894 and formally organized in 1904, started by the furniture designer Louis Majorelle, whose nearby mansion is in the style, along with glass artist Jacques Grüber, the glass and furniture designer Émile Gallé, and the Daum glass company, still in business.
Musee de l’Ecole de Nancy poster
Art Nouveau started in a number of locations in Europe at the same time, with the first buildings appearing in Brussels. It derives its inspiration from nature, thus the many floral representations. The term applies not only to architecture but to painting, decorative work such as furniture, and glass. These artistic endeavors had never coordinated before, one of the unique characteristics of the movement. Painting was not a major part of the local effort. For painting see my post on Mucha. He was famous for his renditions of Sarah Bernhardt.
After you are done loving the architecture, public spaces and art in its various forms, it’s time to enjoy the cuisine. Desserts and sweets are a big deal and what’s unique to Nancy. Aside from the myriad typical French bakery knock your socks off goodies there are macaroons, Nancy Beramots, a hard candy, Saint Epvre cake, made of two round almond meringues filled with a vanilla cream blended with crushed nougatine. Then there’s Duchesses de Lorraine sweets, a gingerbread cake, Stanislas Rum Baba, Liverdun Madeleines, a cookie, and Lorraine Chardons ( thistles), chocolates filled with eau de vie. For entrees (French for ‘first course’) and main courses Nancy has the general Alsace-Lorraine offerings, including the inimitable and forever popular Quiche Loraine and variations. But walk around the streets and you will see plenty of pizza/Italian restaurants and kebab places. And the burger is hugely popular. I never saw a burger on our first visit back in the 1990’s. The American import can set you back $20 for a full meal, or $8 at a kabob place. We spent $40 for two with beer and fries at a roadside stand. The French burgers are piled high and beautifully presented.
There is regional wine production, mostly white and on the sweet side. Gewurztraminer and Riesling are signature regional grapes. There is cremant production, Crémant d’Alsace. A cremant is a bubbly wine made the same way as in the champagne region.
St Nicolas celebrations are a big deal here. In December he visits schools giving every child sweets and lollies. They often take a class photo with him, often featured in the local newspapers. There’s a big St Nic’s parade during the holiday period.
Costumes in a St Nic Parade
Our neighbor during our 4 day stay was a guy named Bryan. He’s from New Zealand but worked in the UK and then France for many years as a 747 pilot. He is 85 years old and handles his 20+ meter barge single handed. He was granted permanent residence a year ago but needed help for some official documentation at city hall. We waited over the weekend for the Monday appointment to translate for him. He was allowed an extension of residency. Several years ago they had refused to grant this to him. A reporter took on the story, which made quite the splash. Then the mayor stepped in, granting his request. Now he is looking to sell the barge. It is too much for him to handle and maintain.
Cross the bridge over the Rhine to find yourself in Germany. It takes just a few minutes. From 1870-1918 this would not involve a change of country, as it was then under German control. We crossed the bridge only because it symbolizes the open border between France and Germany. So often at war since Germany became a nation, these countries crossed the bridge from war and destruction to friendship and federation. Liiberte Egalite Fraternite crossed the border too, as Germany adopted western liberal values. It could have been the other way round, had the politics of racial hatred won the day.
While ‘Strasbourg’ comes from German, referring to the junction of rivers here, it was the Gauls who founded the city, calling it Argentorate, In 1986 the city celebrated the 2000th birthday of its Gaulic origin. Strasbourg became part of France under Louis XIV in 1681, reminding that France as we know it came together over many centuries, by war and marriage. It was one of the important centers of the Protestant Reformation – John Calvin was born here. The German resident Gutenburg invented the printing press. Strasbourg is one of the four European Union capitols along with Luxembourg, Brussels and Frankfurt, along with housing many non-European international organizations. The Rhine port is the second largest in France. All this and more in a city of just 350,000.
Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Strasbourg, the famous World Heritage site, is a big part of the “and more.” It is striking in good measure because it is made from sandstone, standing tall and tan in the sun. The tallest medieval structure of any type. It took centuries to complete. Construction began in 1019, accounting for its Romanesque elements, extending until 1439, accounting for the High Gothic, of which it is the finest example. Underneath is the church dating from the mid 6th century.
Saint Laurence door
When you are done at the Cathedral you can continue the gawk with walks around the old town. The half timber structures, also referred to as Tudor architecture (but perhaps only in the UK) date from the 14th and 15th centuries. Their charm along the canals is greatly amplified.
A biggy in Alscace -Tarte Flambe- Flamenkeuken in German.
The regional cuisine features two well known and widely loved offerings. Tarte Flambe- ‘Flammekueche’ in German- is a unleavened crust topped with thinly sliced onions, lardon (finely chopped bacon), creme fraiche and emmenthal.
Choucroute Garnie is lots of pork in various forms over sauerkraut cooked with white wine and whole black peppercorns, served with mustard. Enjoy a beer or white wine with it. The dish definitely comes from the German influence!
Baeckeoffe is a slow-cooked casserole with meat, potatoes, onions and carrots. Lamb, pork, and beef is flavored with marjoram, thyme, and juniper berries.
Coq au Riesling is a classic French dish. You braise the chicken in a Reisling, produced in the region. The sauce is accompanied by vegetables usually carrots, onions, and mushrooms. It is sometimes served with spätzle, a pasta made here and in Germany all over.
And last but not least, the mighty Bretzel, known in English as the mere ‘pretzel.’ Big ones like in the old days.
Actually there’s a bunch more to the Alsatian cuisine, both savory and sweet.
Martyr of Saint Lawrence
View from one side
Scenes from the old town
Another biggy-Choucroute
Strasbourg has excellent public transport. We moored just past the marina along the wall. It wasn’t pretty but it was just a short walk to the tram (and a grocery store). In 10 minutes or so we were in the center. This being August, we weren’t alone in the touristed areas but the trams weren’t crowded at all. Getting into the Cathedral was the only difficulty, with long waits in the hot sun.
We’ve been strolling along the Canal de la Marne au Rhin, connecting the Marne river to the Rhine. We switched to the Moselle for a glorious couple of dozen kilometers then back to the Canal.
We are in an area generally termed the ‘Grand East,’ the northeast corner of France, bordered by Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany and Switzerland. Some of the region was part of Germany from 1870 – 1918, avoiding damage from the First World War.
This is as rural as France gets: fields of wheat, corn, potatoes, beets and more. Neat small villages and old houses, more Germanic and Swiss looking as we transitioned from the Lorraine into the Alsace. The traditional cuisine changes as well, adding choucroute (saurkraut with pork chops, frankfurters and even more pork) but dropping mussels. There is Munster and Chaource in the cheese department, although there is still plenty of Camembert, even our favorite brand, Rustique.
Toul was home for several days, a long stop for us, with a cathedral and an old church worth a visit. The marina is in the center of town near a supermarket and a bakery. There’s even a hard to find boat repair yard. The Moselle River is close by and that’s where we headed next.
A chubby Joan d’Arc in Toul’s Cathedral
We spent a night in tiny Liverdun. There are fabulous views of the river from cliffs above.
The Moselle from Liverdun
In Liverdun you find the 12th century St Peter Church ( Eglise Saint-Pierre de Liverdun). It’s been classified as a historical monument since 1924. Legend has it that St Euchaire arrived here carrying his head in his arms, having been decapitated in nearby Pompey in 362, making the journey from there by horse. I I know of three headless travelers, Euchaire joining St Denis (Paris) and St. James (Santiago de Compostela). Haven’t had such headless travelers since. They just don’t make saints like they used to.
St Euchaire
After Liverdun we returned to the Canal, passing through two tunnels, descending 45 meters/130 feet on the Plan Inclinee, a giant tub of water that moves on tracks, eliminating the need for a half dozen locks. We had lunch at a roadside restaurant, called a Routier (meaning ‘On the Route’), independent restaurants serving truckers and others on the move. There’s a huge first course buffet, with salads, sliced meats, olives and more, then cheeses (they come at the end of the meal in France, in case you need to stuff yourself even more) and desserts. The main course is to order, with very large servings of steaks, chicken, pork, sausage and more, served with the sauces the cuisine is known for. Nothing fancy here, but healthy as well as hearty. The last Routier we went to did it differently. A large pot containing a stew was set on the table, with a bottle of everyday wine. You could order off the menu, ‘a la carte,’ as well. Our friend ordered steak au poivre. I suffered with the thumper stew.
Climbing through many locks, we entered the Vosges Mountains, with lots of great scenery. We descended the Plan Inclinee, a 45 meter drop that eliminates the need for a half dozen locks. We passed some lovely old villages but Lutzelbourg is the prettiest and most Swiss-like.
Lutzelbourg
On the Canal du Marne au Rhin near Bar le Duc
Cathédrale Saint-Étienne de Toul – gorgeous, light and airy nave
In Void-Vacon our new Dutch friend John made us mussels in a ‘sauce espagnol,’ a red sauce that has nothing to do with Spanish cuisine, but a variation of velouté except that it is made with dark stock like beef or veal, and a well-cooked roux. After dinner a biker from Romania came by looking to get his water bottle filled. He had biked all the way from Bucharest, was going to Paris to see the Olympics, then Spain for a race, then back home. No wonder he’s so skinny.
We continued our journey, stopping in Epernay, Tours sur Marne, Chalons-en-Champagne, then Vitry-le-Francois.
Epernay is at the heart of Champagne country, in good measure because it sits on the Marne. As we exited the Canal Lateral de la Marne we saw the muddy river flying past. Turning into it we immediately felt the strong current. We chugged the 4 kilometers to the marina to find the harbor master waiting for us at the dock to help us in. As we approached we could see why – there wasn’t much room left for the river to rise before we’d float onto the dock, meaning the fenders would easily come in above the dock so the boat itself would hit. Later that day we were told we had to leave in the morning. The regional authorities, who exercise control over the water level, were going to release more water from the reservoir.
Before the news arrived we took our guest to a Champagne house. The nearby house, Champagne de Castellane, no longer provides tours, so we found another. Last time we were here the harbor master hosted a generous Champagne happy hour, provided by Castellane. This is no longer possible as Castellane no longer provides the product free to the marina.
We departed early the next morning to beat the additional release from the reservoir. Our 7 kph speed against the current became 14 kph with it. Fortunately the comparatively small number of floating logs were swept to the outside of the curves, where the current is strongest, while we remained on the inside as much as possible. For some reason the current slowed just as we reached the lock returning us to the safe waters of the canal. Its activating mechanism is a bit down river so you have to move to it and then turn around. With the reduced current we were able to complete the maneuver.
Tours-sur-Marne came after that nail-biter on the river, offering a gorgeous setting with vineyards set behind the reflective still waters. It’s a tiny village with a single Champagne merchant. The church is from 1851. The grapes they grow were once classified as Grand Cru, the highest rating, used to set prices after a long period of price instability. The classification has long been abandoned.
View of Tours-sur-Marne from our mooring
The Canal Lateral de la Marne is lined with endless great scenery. Rolling hills and fields green with crops, potatoes, beets and more, as well as wheat. We grabbed a few plants from the fields, boiled them a bit and enjoyed some mighty fine greens along with the young and still white beets.
Chalons-en-Champagne is our next stop; we are no longer amidst the fields of grapes. The Cathedral of Saint Ettiene dates from the 12th century. Its origins are Romanesque, meaning thick walls and small windows, but it was rebuilt in the Gothic style with thin walls and large windows. Then they added a Baroque section in the 17th century. Its soaring ceiling and beautiful stained glass flood the huge chamber in light. Some of the stained glass was made in the 12th century, as seen in the photo below. You can’t help but feel a time travel sensation bringing you into the medieval mind where fantasy rules, fantasy’s limitless reach unrestricted by the limits of factuality, instead only by the rhetoric of theologians and the discipline imposed by the Church.
12th century glass
Notre Dame en Vaux is another great old church, a UNESCO World Heritage one to boot. It was built between 1157 and 1217. It had a cloister, now a garden, faced by a small museum. There are a number of other worthwhile visits in the town of just 45,000. It is on the road to Santiago de Compostela.
Soaring ceilings and beautiful light
Drawing in Notre Dame en Vaux, Chalons sur Champagne
Vitry-le-Francois has the tiniest harbor, maybe a half dozen slots with barely room for us in the narrow canal leading to the moorings, where we had to make a difficult 90 degree turn to slide into the perpendicular slot. There is a harbor master, a woman who proved to be highly attentive. The electrical outlet with a proper modern boat type connection wasn’t working. The other outlets were house types, not used in a marine environment. I had to make an adapter from an old house plug.
Nearby is the beautiful city hall, in French called either the Maire (Mayor) or Hotel d’ Ville. It’s oversized for this tiny village.
Leaving Reims we went back the way we came, then making a two week long circuit, tranquil except for four kilometers on the raging Marne in Epernay. The route took us to many historic and charming small towns who some 110 years ago found themselves in the midst of WWI. We visited large, well kept cemeteries filled with mostly French soldiers. Stops included the towns of small and generally charming villages: Cormicy, Bourg et Comin, Pinon, Longuiel-Annel, Compiegne, Attichy, Vic sur Aisne, Soisson, Courmelois, Epernay, Tours sur Marne, Chalons-en-Champagne, then Vitry-le-Francois.
Most of the locks on this route are controlled by the ships’ crew, using either a remote control or a twist rod that hangs over the water. Mostly we spent nights at a ‘hault nautique,” docks provided by the French waterway authority, the VNF. VNF was there quickly the time or two we needed assistance with the locks.
Many of these towns have interesting old churches. Cormicy’s is blocky, with stumpy flying buttresses. Pretty it’s not, but you can readily imagine the frightened or hopeful parishioners shivering while seated on the hard wooden benches, a seriously abused man hanging over them, as they imagined a worse fate if they did not proclaim the faith.
Bourg et Comin: the town is a short bike ride up a steep hill from the halt. There you find a very good bakery and a small grocery store. The hault nautique has water and electricity. One space at the dock was occupied by someone using this location of as a permanent mooring, not permitted by the VNF but they are lax about enforcement. This is a common problem.
At Pinon the dock was full but the Americans on a barge let us moor up while we went to the ‘gran surface’ Carrefour grocery store just a two minute walk away. Before we had even gathered our shopping bags the other barge there, a Dutch flagged commercial, headed out. We moved to the just freed space, then resumed our shopping trip after driving a stake or two into the ground, as here there are no bollards. After we left the next morning we never saw the Americans again, as they were heading north.
Compiegne has lovely Tudor houses (half-timber structures dating from the 15thc), the magnificent Joan of Arc statue facing the famous Hotel d’ Ville (City Hall). See my article at Compiegne for photos and commentary. By the bridge there is a fuel station and a boat shop well provisioned with boating items. Their mechanic helped me replace the throttle/shifting mechanism, a critical device approaching its 30th birthday.
Vic sur Aisne has a neat old castle and a hault nautique with water and electricity. The Roman road to Calais passed through here. A mile marker was found near the bridge erected by Marcus Aurelius. The first castle was built in 900. The current dates to the 17th century. It was built by Cardinal de Bernis, friend of Voltaire and Madame de Pompadour. The structure was sold as national property during the Revolution. It was rebuilt after bombing in 1918.
Soisson was founded in pre-Roman times by the Suessiones, a Gallic (aka Celtic) tribe. It assumed some importance under the Romans, then fell to Clovis I in 486 CE. After Clovis divided his kingdom among his four sons, Soisson became one of the capitals. Soisson remained important through the Merovingians, whose reign ended in 751 CE
During the Hundred Years’ War, French forces massacred English archers, while killing and raping French residents. The English retaliated by winning the Battle of Agincourt in 1415. Joan of Arc liberated the town on July 23, 1429. Girl got around!
Soisson was heavily bombed in WWI. There is a memorial behind the mayor’s office.
The late 12th century cathedral is Gothic in style with some Romanesque elements. The 13th century tower duplicates that of Notre Dame in Paris.
The famous Abbey of St. Jean des Vignes, once one of the most wealthy in France, was founded in the 1076 as an Augustinian monastery. The first structures were Romanesque, but were replaced by Gothic buildings in the 12th-16th centuries. Unfortunately the church was largely destroyed under Napoleon.
Its two towers are quite different. The taller is 70m/230′ in height, visible from afar. Other parts of the abbey still standing include remains of two cloisters and a 13th-century refectory. There are vestiges of structures from the middle of the 6th century.
