Tuesday 4th September Venerey to Montbard ( flavigny on bikes)

It was an early start and a light breakfast. We were back in the saddle and off to another medieval village. This one, Flavigny, was the setting for the movie "chocolat" starring the crews favourite, johnny depp. Before leaving I called into the capitinnaires to pay dues and arrange a later departure with the eclusiers. Good news was nicols could not charge me mooring as I was on the outside quay so just 6€ for electric and water. Date with locks was now 3pm.

The climb up to Flavigny was bloody tough. We looked back down on venery half way up, it looked tiny.

Hairpin bends and steepness meant a lot of time pushing the bikes but as we got to the top of the hill and within a couple of Kms of the still invisible village, the scenery was just like out of a movie set. The poplars lining the long empty road on a hot sunny morning was beautiful.

Our energy levels were not so beautiful but we had made it. We glanced left and across a small valley was the outline of the town. I spotted 3 coaches parked outside the entrance portal. It was going to be a bit busy.

Once inside we headed for the main square and Eglise.

It was classic stuff. The square, the Marie, the church and in the corner, Collette immediately spotted the tiny shop front which had been used as the chocolatier shop.

We walked round the town looking for a cafe for a coffee for which we were gasping. Atmospheric narrow cobbled streets and quaint stone houses at every turn made it a film location finders dream.

I spotted a nice place for sale, it had its own tower, ideal if the you are in the argument room with the wife!

At a corner house, an old lady was busying herself doing nothing much. I enquired as to where I might get a coffee. She responded in double quick time French but I understood the gist that there was only one place and we had passed it. I thanked her at which point she asked, "what country do you come from"

Angleterre, I replied.

She instantly physically waved us on with a Bon promenade, another wave away and Bon promenade in a stern dismissive nature. If I had not been so taken by surprise by the sudden attitude change, I would have certainly asked the old crone what her obvious problem with the English was. Sadly we will never know but suffice to say Collette and I recovered our wits and got pretty negative about the incident to such an extent that we very nearly went back to speak to her to discuss the blatant rudeness towards us when she discovered our nationality. It was only the second time we had come across such blatant animosity in the whole trip and this from a lady of at least 80 years old, the old crone.

We had our coffee and the lady patron keenly showed us pictures in an album from the film making. Proudly she pointed out one picture of a young boy on set before pointing to a man in the corner of the shop feeding a baby. It was her son.

The famous anise sweets of Flavigny are made here in the old abbey building. It closed for lunch as we were approaching so missed out on this particular culinary delight.

We left the lovely Flavigny looking forward to the downhill ride back. We took a slightly different route and came upon a vineyard. Now we have been in burgundy for some time now and we had not had a degustation. We could see the vines in the fields overlooking the winery.

In we went. Closed. I tried to open the door. A young man suddenly came across and invited us in. We tasted three Pinot noir reds. All very nice but we settled on the most expensive and took a bottle home. It was still only 10€ and considering we had had 4 glasses of free wine, it seemed a bargain. More disgustingly now planned.

Back at Doucette, we finished off the curry for lunch. Topped up water and were in the lock at 3. It will take 3hours said the eclusier. No worries we have until 7. It was a very pleasant late afternoon cruise through this lovely open valley spotted with more picture postcard villages.

We arrived in Montbard at 6 exactly.

A Dutch flagged vessel sat on one side of the only vacant finger and a chap came out to help us come alongside. He was American, very friendly and once moored we chatted for several minutes. His name was dean. He had spent a life in boats including spending 4 years on the river Hamble building a boat which he sailed over the Atlantic to the Caribbean. His two visiting friends arrived back from town. Bill, a ringer for Craig staddler the walrus, who was hawaiian and his wife jan hailing from Washington state. We had wine and chatted some more before they invited us to join them for dinner.

Very nice but I had lapin to BBQ and was eager to get started. We did however go for a stroll to see if the advertised tuesday night market was near. The town was ghostly quiet. We stumbled on a beige suited rather suave middle aged gent with whom I struck up conversation.

In 10 minutes he explained to me how he lived in Paris but there was nothing in the town. It is the story of franc.e he said. Sarkosy is to blame. Cafes and bars all over France are closing because the young ones are being brainwashed that alcohol is the devil and there are not enough police to handle those that are being inhabited by the devil. My town is in its death throes.

The general outcome was that the Tuesday night market was no more so we decided to head back to Doucette. BBQ some meat and make hay with the devil.

The rabbit was beautiful and collette had chosen well with her entrecote which she is getting far too much of a taste for. It was after ten when the Americans returned, victims of the devil. Dean joined us on the poop for more wine, I opened another bottle, he left when it was finished. The devil was laughing!

 

 

 

 

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