LIBERTÉ, EGALITÉ,
FRATERNITÉ AFLOAT
French Canals
BY BERNADETTE BERNON, RHODE ISLAND
FOR YEARS I’D DREAMED OF TAKING A BARGE VACA- TION through the French canals. I’d imagined lingering in picturesque countryside villages, browsing the open-air summer food markets with a basket on my arm that was full of the gastronomical treasures I’d selected for our lunch. I’d imagined sampling the artisan cheeses and ogling the massive
selection of olives and mushrooms and pâté and breads, then climbing back
aboard our cozy vessel as we pushed off to putter on the canal through the
stunning farming valleys, passing whitewashed cottages, with their colorful
wood shutters and overflowing flowerboxes. But there was a snag. My husband Douglas didn’t share this dream. Actually, that’s an understatement;
he thought crawling through France at four knots on a fussy barge full of
strangers would be a little slice of hell on earth.
Luckily, we have good friends who talked him into it, promising that
we’d cycle and hike every day, that we’d unabashedly overdose on the finest food and wine in France — but on our own terms, without spending a
fortune. The key? We’d charter a modern 42-foot fiberglass self-drive barge,
have it all to ourselves, and be free to do as we pleased. That’s what happened. Last June, with friends, we embarked on what would be one of the
best holidays of our lives, on the Canal du Nivernais.
A Le Boat self-drive barge meanders down the Canal du Nivernais, with a bike path along its banks, and vistas and historic buildings around every turn.
PHOTOS: DOUGLAS BERNON
WATCHING THE WORLD GO BY AT 5 KNOTS
Sitting on the top deck, we watched the wildflowers and grasses undulating
in the breeze, and took turns driving as our barge slowly made the gentle
arcs that introduced around each bend one vista more stunning than the
next. Every hour or two, we came to a lock with massive metal doors that
opened like the gates of heaven. We’d enter and tie up inside as each unfailingly charming and friendly lockkeeper turned the manual gears that closed
the gates behind us. Next he’d open the valves to allow the water to rush
in, raising the boat until we were up to the level of the water ahead; then
he’d rush to the front, open those gates, tip his hat, and out we’d pop, into
another gorgeous setting.
The food was out of this world, and it did seem that we were eating our
way through Burgundy. But we had loads of exercise every day, and refused
to worry about it. The canal system was once the main commercial transportation system linking the towns of France. They’re wide and deep all the
way to the sides, with solid-rock walls, and — the best part — alongside
them are bike paths! In the old days, horses pulled commercial barges full
of lumber and supplies; today those paths remain, but they’re paved, wide,
and flat! Our boat was equipped with bikes, and as long as two people
stayed onboard to negotiate the locks, we could cycle to the next town, or
through the countryside. We’d stop for café au lait when we liked, or to pick
fruit — it was cherry and raspberry season — or just to sit on the banks and
