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 choucoutre (sour kraut with pork chops, frankfurters and even more pork) and 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.
We spent a night in tiny Liverdun. There are fabulous views of the river from cliffs above.
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.
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.
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.
