Low Bridge, Everybody Down: Barging in Europe: August 2019

Enjoying a cocktail before dinner.

It's a real treat when we are in a village where we can walk to dinner. St-Léger-sur-Dheune fits the bill. We walk to a boulangerie every morning for our daily baguette and pastry, there's a market close by, and a lovely restaurant right on the canal. What more could we ask for? Restaurant Le Marchand was under new ownership which concerned us. We have had lovely meals there in the past. The new owners didn't disappoint us.

My view that evening was excellent

A romantic spot to spend an evening. The company wasn't bad either.

While we were hanging out in Fragnes we would wake up early to go for our walk, and avoid the heat of the day. I'm always searching for new material to photograph. This wasn't the most exciting of our daily walks. I still managed to find some things of interest.

An old building along the canal.

A pretty little pond tucked away with a bench.

Old building and bridge

Excuse me if I don't get up

I noticed that the path along the canal was lined with tiny flowers. They were all different colors. Here they are for your enjoyment. Wherever you look you can find beauty.

Tom has discovered the art of making ice cream. He keeps putting nuts in so I won't eat any.

Being in Burgundy we found time to visit a winery in Rully.

Cruising is amazing. We have long peaceful periods as we navigate the canals and rivers of France. Church bells chiming, birds singing, fish splashing, the occasional sounds of voices, and sometimes the noise of construction in the distance. People walking, running, biking or fishing along the canals. The roar of the French fighter jets streaking across the sky disturbing the peace for a brief moment. The sound of our Detroit diesel engine rumbling and the whine of the rudder each time the wheel is adjusted. The tension while lining up properly to enter a lock. Most of the time the entry is so smooth as to not be noticeable. Occasionally there is a bump if a gust of wind alters our course or Tom misjudges the lock entrance by a small amount. The disconcerting sound of grinding as the water level was so low in places that we plowed along the bottom. The long mournful sound of our air horn if the canal is windy to notify anyone coming in the other direction that we are here. The bow of Rabelo gently moving the water aside as our 200+ tonne barge moves along creating gentle ripples that push up the sides of the canal. There are farm communities and small villages with their church spire pointing up into the sky. We see factories some deserted and others still in business. We watch the cows, sheep and goats grazing contentedly in their green pastures. Small cheerfully painted planes flying back and forth dropping their cargo of colorful parachuters over the fields. This is just a small taste of our life on Rabelo.

A lovely shady walk along the canal in Chagny.

Chagny is our least favorite mooring. While it's a nice marina, there are no trees or vegetation and it's next to a noisy factory. Fortunately there is a nice walk nearby and the town has a market and boulangerie. Chagny is also home to two Michelin starred restaurants. One is the famous three star Maison Lameloise. Less formal and less expensive, but related and excellent is Restaurant Pierre&Jean. How unusual to have so many amazing restaurants in such a small town.

Our mooring in Chagny

An empty lock with the doors closed. Some lock doors are very old. They all leak, some more than others.

The peaceful view from Rabelo looking towards Santenay makes for one of our favorite moorings. Many bike riders stop to enjoy a picnic.

Part of our walk into Santenay.

Walking into Santenay

We were fortunate to be introduced to Christian Manissolle, a master furniture maker and wood worker extraordinaire who lives in Santenay. He is known throughout France for his skill. After coffee at his home we were given a tour of his workshop. I'm only showing a few pictures of his workshop that anyone who has ever worked with wood would be envious of.