Rain on the Nivernais

Saturday 30th June

Morning, and il pleut.  It pleut-ed and it pleut-ed.  Just soft rain, but enough to keep the skies very grey and the trees soggy.  We left our layover around 9am and have been on the go ever since.  The boat goes at walking pace, so you can easily hop off at a lock and walk to the next one.  The small villages that we go through are really devoid of life - as if they have closed down.  No sound of life, no children playing outside, no one walking in the evenings.  In a way, it is, I have to admit, slightly disappointing inasmuch as I’d expected the villages to have cafés with good coffee and croissants.  That, however, is not the case and the villages are very quiet and empty-looking.  There are no children playing, no adults out walking in the evening (other than us) and it’s so quiet that you start wondering whether you’ve been through a time warp and the villagers are in hiding.

View from cabin window!

We stopped for lunch at Mailly la Ville, looking eagerly out for a café and boulangerie, but to no avail.  There was one tiny shop that sold bread, wine, knitting wool, and an assortment of tinned foods.  Quaint.  But no coffee.  I am sure the bigger towns will have restaurants. 

The weather finally picked up in the late afternoon and the grey gave way to patchy blue.  Lock after lock and eventually we arrived to where we are this evening; Mailly le Chateau.  We passed by some stunning cliffs which Nick had to climb, naturally, and which gave him a great view of the village and town across from the canal.  We entered the village with high hopes as the documents we were given said that there was a restaurant and a bar.  We first found a small tabac which sold wine and beer, so we settled down to try the local Chablis.  Both Jenny and I turned up our noses at what we decided was an oily, slightly kerosene taste to a simple and definitely not complex, wine.  The boys had a wheaten beer each.  In my best French I asked if there was a restaurant in the village.  It’s all very well being able to ask these things en francais, but it’s understanding the response that is the difficulty.

But we found the place – L’Etape des Gourmet - and prepared ourselves, with another wine and beer, to translating the menu.  What we had was beautifully plated and looked a picture.  Much of it was pre-prepared and not freshly cooked, but it still was very nice and a pleasant surprise.  In the village was also a fresh bread shop which we will make haste to tomorrow morning.  I bet we wake up early with the church bells...