Clockwise from left: coasting past a local fishing on the shore; lounging in a deck chair watching the scenery float by; a hallway leading to the cabins.
whether it’ s to admire the tulips in Holland, search for the Loch Ness Monster in Scotland, or sample the cuisine of Italy.
My first canal cruise was a three-day barge trip down the Canal de Bourgogne in the Burgundy region of France. After flying into Paris, my friend Cindy and I made our way south to a spot called Pouilly-en-Auxois, where our boat was docked. As we boarded, a brilliant rainbow fell onto the nearby hillside, which we took as a sign of a pleasant journey ahead. Boy, were we right.
It was late afternoon when we arrived, and as there was time to relax before dinner, we adjourned to our rooms to settle in. My compact but cozy space had matching pale-blue wallpaper, sheets, and towels. There were fresh flowers adorning the desk, and colorful curtains cloaked the windows. I was pleasantly surprised to find that each cabin also had its own individual heating and air-conditioning unit to ensure the temperature was just right.
At the appointed hour, Cindy and I headed to the salon, where the captain’ s wife, Noortje, poured us a drink. François, our captain, then gave us his official welcome aboard speech, which he claimed he’ d been perfecting for the past 13 years.“ Bon voyage” is all he said. François then opened the first of what became a total of four bottles of wine that evening.“ Wine is an occasion waiting to happen,” he told us.
Of course, French wine without French food is only half the equation, and we quickly got into higher math. There was sautéed coquille Saint Jacques in champagne sabayon sauce, roasted leg of lamb, medallions of monkfish with herb butter and fried onions, stuffed zucchini flowers, platters of pungent cheeses, and more. What made all of the meals we were served aboard the barge particularly remarkable was the fact that they were whipped up in a tiny kitchen just off the dining room. When we asked Noortje, who served as the chef, how she managed it, she said the secret was organization.“ Everything has its place,” she confessed. I decided then and there I needed Noortje to come to my house to rearrange my closets.
The next day after breakfast, Cindy and I planted ourselves underneath a shady umbrella on the hibiscus-strewn deck, where we whiled away the rest of the morning flipping through some French fashion magazines we’ d picked up at the airport and snapping photos of the breathtaking scenery. Make no mistake, calling the Burgundy countryside breathtaking is like calling the Grand Canyon deep. Its intimate valleys, sleepy villages, and treelined boulevards unfolded before us like an impressionistic painting.
To break up the monotony of the carefree conviviality and heavenly landscapes was a series of locks, or ecluses, made up of gates that control the water level in order to raise and lower the boats. Not all of the canals in France have them, but the
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