Just as I thought this amazing country could not get more scenic or historically crowded, we spent the next two weeks almost silently gliding through the sun dappled, still waters of the Canal de Bourgogne, turning it’s corners to be confronted with new visions of the past, chateaux and villages cradled in soft green undulating hills surrounded by lush fertile meadows and fields, populated by slow moving cattle and fine, energetic horses. The pace of life has now settled to a slow rhythm of 9.00am departures, deli lunches in or near locks at 12.00 and arrival in a new town or village port by 3.00 in the afternoon at the latest. This way we are covering about 10 - 15 kilometres per travel day, punctuated by up to a dozen locks along the way, each dropping us around 2 ½ metres as we slowly descend from the high point at Pouilly en Auxois to the next river, the Yonne.

We tend to travel for two or three days before stopping for longer than a day at major points of interest. The next, on our voyage of discovery, was the port at Pouillenay in order to visit the Abbaye de Flavigny, now the place of manufacture of the Anise de Flavigny, a small round, anisette flavoured candy. The company actually makes about 10 different flavoured sweets of the same construction and exports them around the world in a variety of decorated tins and old style boxes. To get to Flavigny, one has to ascend 5 km of very steep hills, punctuated often with false crests, a real ‘heartbreak hill’ for those who, like us, attempt the climb on mountain bikes. Despite the excellent gearing of our bikes, the climb was labourious and exhausting, taking nearly an hour. We arrived to find that, as usual, Monday was the day they were closed. We walked through the village that surrounds the old Abbaye and descended the hills to the boat in about 10 minutes.

We were determined to see the ancient crypt of the Abbaye and it’s more modern processing procedure, housed in buildings a couple of centuries older than the crypt but still hundreds of years old. These later buildings are now inhabited by noisy machines rather like cement mixers, churning out the little white pills that has given this ancient village it’s current lease of life. We unshipped the scooter the next morning and put it to the test of carting the two of us up the 5km hills. We arrived in about 15 minutes ! No more will we drag our tired bodies up daunting hills while the little silver Peugeot is available to do the work for us.

The effort was well worthwhile as this is another of ‘the most beautiful villages of France’, the other we had seen recently being Chateauneuf. Built between the 12^th and 15^th century, most of Flavigny’s buildings are original from the end of that period and remain clustered together with narrow streets separating their inward leaning second floors. Steep walks up and around the centre of town (an imposing 15^th century church), mark the places the monks and nobles would have mingled during the feasts and famines over the centuries of medieval life. Plagues, pestilence, wars, famines and harvests have rolled past the stones of these buildings as now, in air conditioned busses and cars, the tourists roll by. Some Australians even come on bicycles!

Only 5km further down the canal stands Venarey les Laumes, the jumping off point for the Chateau Rabutin and the ancient Roman ruins of Alise. Roger de Rabutin was expelled from the court of Louis 14 to his property near Bussy for writing a book called ‘The Amorous Adventures of the Gauls’. Based on the scandalous antics of the best known members of Louis’ court, the manuscript was feloniously borrowed and copied by an ex lover who then made sure the King was given a copy. As Louis, his wife and mistresses featured in the book, he took umbrage at Roger’s writings and after letting him languish for eleven months in the Bastille, sent him to exile for 27 years. Finally pardoned, Roger had only a few years to enjoy the Sun King’s company before dying just before the end of the 1600s. While in his prison home, he spent the time decorating his chateau with witty pictures and writings based on the key figures of the day. These amusing and somewhat cryptic creations are now the points of interest within his still marvellously presented home.

The nearby ruins of the complete Roman town of Alise are laid out neatly for the visitor. Issued with a written guide, you follow the point by point description as you walk through the theatre, the market, houses, offices and public buildings, all laid open to their foundations. This site is very near the battlefield where a young Julius Caesar overcame the last defence of Gaul by Vercingoratex and his army of about 40,000. Caesar put in place a fortified encirclement and starved them into submission, thereby taking control of the vast and fertile Burgundian plains for the next 300 years or so. (NB: Serious historians will certainly point out minor factual errors in my descriptions, spelling and numbers here as I only have my somewhat addled memory to go by).

This area of France is lush. It is heaped in beauty, rich foods, supple and delicious wines, pungent cheeses, fresh fruits and vegetables and the most amazing arrays of ‘deli’ foods I have yet to see anywhere. The markets and traiteurs, the boulangeries and the charcuteries are stuffed with produce and pre-prepared dishes and pastries filled with pates and meats, cheeses and eggs, vegetables and fruits. All of these can be accompanied by sumptuous creams, sauces and seasonings. Cured hams and sausages hang from hooks and in the patisseries the trays of tarts and cakes overflow the counters onto tables and stools. Everywhere are regional products with an amazing range of brands, names and appearances. It will take years to understand and taste this vast selection of sensual pleasures.

The sun has been shining for days and we now look forward to the heaped, white, fluffy clouds that slowly scud across the nearly unbroken pale blue sky for some relief from the escalating temperatures. We are uniformed in shorts and tee shirts, with heavy sandals to protect the feet from the heat radiating off the steel decks of Van Nelle. Although especially painted light grey, the outer decks can get as hot as the tar streets of Subi used to when that hot black topping would stick to running young feet during primary school days - several (?) decades ago.

Another day, another departure and so, on to Montbard and it’s chief point of interest, the Abbaye Fontenay. This collection of buildings was constructed by the Cistercian monks from the 10^th century, begun in 1118 and helped along by an exiled English bishop who escaped persecution across the channel with his fortune intact to build the large church at Fontenay. Now a world heritage site, the Abbaye covers a great area and includes the first iron manufacturing facility in Europe, where locally mined iron ore was forged and, with the help of water power, hammered into sheets by the world’s (?) first hammer mill. This collection of buildings was kept in remarkable order since it was taken from the Cistercians during the Revolution and sold. After several other owners, it was bought by the Montgolfier brothers (of hot air balloon fame). The grounds are beautifully manicured with stern warnings to ‘stay off the grass’. Several of the buildings are still inhabited by management and staff.

Montbard was also the home of the Count Buffon who elevated the area to national prominence with his work in forestry for the king, the building of a (then) modern iron foundry, and his amazing work in writing and editing the ‘Natural History of the World’, a series of over 30 encyclopaedic volumes. He endowed his home, now a park overlooking the town, to the commune at his death at an age of something over eighty. We were able to take a private, conducted tour of the park and the several buildings left standing by Count Buffon. The guide was the ‘guardian’ of the area, a bright and highly amusing young woman with some English, who delighted in shocking her guests with descriptions of the awful things the soldiers of the fort (that had originally stood here) threw down on invaders. She also insisted we looked out and down from the top of the tower, through the portals from which their mess was delivered, a truly frightening experience as it induced the most intense vertigo.

The next village along the sleepy canal, still very quiet as the European holiday and summer period has not yet begun, is Ancy le Franc which boasts yet another amazing Chateau.

By this time we were starting to blur all the chateaux, churches and abbayes together, so that when asked by a couple we invited aboard for drinks, ‘where had we been and what could we recommend to see ?’, we constantly confused one place with another, putting buildings in the wrong towns. After a while, it’s a bit like seeing the paintings of the Louvre and the Musee D’Orsay in one day and trying to remember which was which.

The social life continues apace of course with a lively interchange of gossip among the boaties, many of whom wander up and start conversations which end up as ‘end of the day drinks’ or a meal on a boat or a restaurant.

The next town was Ancy le Franc - and yes - it also has an amazing Chateau. This, along with some other of the best chateaux throughout France, was bought by an investment company which partly subsidises these semi-self reliant businesses, to fund the massive costs of restoration. The buildings are used for tours and functions, weddings and state occasions, art exhibitions and concerts. Unfortunately, as waterborne gypsies, we have yet to fluke arrival at the right place at the right time to be involved with such revelries as the concerts and state occasions - but that will come.

The Chateau Ancy le Franc was restored and added to by it’s high borne owner back in the 1700s with the aid of an Italian architect and as such is considered a priceless example of the Renaissance. It boasts the most regular features in its structure, a perfect square of wings enclosing a handsome courtyard about 50 metres on each side. The outer wings are three stories and are packed inside with art and furniture of the period. There are huge bedrooms, dining rooms, entertainment halls and smaller vestibules and other useful facilities such as kitchens (again vast).

20 kilometres down stream is the town of Tanlay and again - it has a chateau. This is still owned by the original family, although it is now turned over to tourism, as the heirs of the estate live and work in Paris. Queen Juliana of the Netherlands was the last official guest of the owners in the 1960s. She was hosted by the then matriarch, the Marquise, who was the French Ambassador to several European and Asian courts during her life. The Marquise’ photographic and painted portraits dominate the entertaining rooms, showing her in a succession of designer gowns and lavish diplomatic decorations. These jewelled decorations from many countries can now be seen along with those of her forebears in a presentation case in one of the many foyers of this huge and gracious home. When I say home, this building is as big as a hotel and stands on a park that holds a golf course, a private section of canal and stables extensive enough for Bart Cummings. One can still see where the 17^th and 18^th century carriages chipped and wore off the stone edges of the gates and entrances to the massive forecourts of the chateau.

We entered a restaurant in Tanlay after exploring the chateau as its hoarding advertised an 11 Euro menu (three courses for about $19), available every day except Sunday. When confronted with the menu inside after being seated, we were advised that the menu de jour was not available of Fete days. This day was a Monday and named for some obscure Saint. We left, not interested in paying more than double for the same menu as a result of St Fidgit’s day or whatever. We returned to the boat for cold Chablis, pate, avocado and smoked ham, pastries filled with goats cheese and peaches with ice cream... and a second bottle of chilled white... total cost, less than 10 Euros.

That evening as the sun slowly settled toward the hills, the peace of the late afternoon was disturbed by a large compressor filling a hot air balloon as it’s crew prepared it for the guests of the hotel barge that was tied up behind us at the small port. Once opened up and partly filled on the football field adjacent to the port, the burners were ignited, completing the filling and giving the craft it’s lift. The passengers climbed into the cane gondola and after a few more bursts of heat, went into the almost still evening air, floating serenely over our boat. We toasted them and set the barbecue to heat the flightless birds we were to enjoy that evening as dinner.

Departing at 9.00 the next morning we cruised slowly towards Tonnerre, a mere 9km and three locks distance where we arrived at 11.45, just before the locks closed for lunch. Our luck was out though since the water in the next pound was at such a high level that we could not fit under the small bridge which marks the end of the ecluse. The eclusier took to his van, speeding off to the next lock to open it’s sluices and allow the water in the intervening pound to reduce, thereby letting us out. We emerged to find a perfect spot in the centre of the shaded section of the port with access to free electricity and water. We used both to do a load of washing, using our clothes dryer to complete the task.

Exploring this town was somewhat hampered since they do not open their tourist attractions until June 1 -this was May 22 - and the next day it rained. No it poured. We didn’t mind in the least as it happened since we could take the time to catch up with writing and reading and have a AFD - an alcohol free day - a very rare experience in this environment.

The third day dawned cloudy but dry and we took to the scooter to explore nearby Chablis - famous for its dry, crisp, white wine which comes in 4 varieties - Grand Cru, Premier Cru, Petit and Bourgeois. This again is a Chardonnay grape based wine that was threatened by phylloxera in the 19^th century but fortunately has been replanted with virus resistant stock and continues to please to palates of millions. It is quite different from the ‘Chablis’ produced in Australia as it has more flavour and is more delicate - not as dry and astringent as some by the same name at home. In tasting the different Crus (grades) we discovered that there was a sameness about them (as marked as say reds all from the Hunter River) but also distinct differences in acidity, length and fruit flavours.

We arrived at a 13^th century cellar just ahead of a pre-arranged tour group and thereby gained the benefit of a free tour and wine tasting. The petite manageress of the establishment spoke excellent English, albeit with an Irish twist. Since her name was Maureen, we could only imaging she was either Irish by descent or her French parents had some close affinity with the Irish. Whatever the case, she explained that the original 40,000 hectares was now reduced to something over 6,000 with the best plots (Grand Cru) located nearest the centre of town on the flatter, lower ground, surrounded by the Premiere Crus further out and the Bourgos and Petit even further up the hillsides. She then gave us two Bourgos or ordinaire crus and a Premiere. Since we showed interest in buying after the group left we also got to taste two of the Grand Crus, one of which I remarked could have been opened for perhaps too long for it to be in the best of health. She immediately opened a replacement bottle and was (I think) pleased that I could tell. We bought a Grand Cru and her recommendation of the best Premiere there and one more at another Cave in town.

On arrival back at the port at Tonnerre we discovered that our English friends in a similar type and sized boat were in town having been following us for some days. We ended the day with several G&Ts, a bottle of white and a good goss with them and their Kenyan friends.

We are now approaching the end of the Burgundy canal and nearing our rendezvous with guests at Auxerre. Gary and his wife Dianne were with us on a hire boat some years ago which we took through Auxerre, so it will be a double reunion. But first we have to pass through St Florentin, Migennes and a few smaller towns along the way.