Lutzelbourg (partying monks)

THURSDAY 12 MAY

A couple of hire boats going down the slide at Arzviller

Thursday dawned partly cloudy, and we had a look around Xouaxange before setting off for the day.  We couldn’t find out much about the village before we went other than our guidebook said there was a tower, a church and an old château.  As it was quite a small place, we decided to make the trip more exciting by just searching for these three places of interest rather than looking them up on a map first.  We could see the tower from our mooring peeping out over some houses, so we already knew where that was.  The village was built on the side of a hill so we could see most of it from where we started near the top, but we couldn’t see any sign of a château. 

When we reached the bottom of the village, we found a little street called rue du Château so thought we were in luck.  We followed it to the end but no castle came into sight although the street petered out into a track.  We followed the track across a field where in the middle stood what must have been the most ruined and unrecognisable château we’ve ever seen.

Château de Xouaxange

Back in the village we soon saw the church which from the distance looked like it was next to the tower.  When we got there, we found that they were part of the same building so felt a bit cheated.

Round towered church

After our walk we set off for a place called Niderviller which was still on the summit of the canal and just before two tunnels which in turn were just before the inclined plane we would be going down soon.  The journey was uneventful and the view from the boat was quite different to that of late as most of the it was in a shallow cutting with tall trees on either side.  We went through two villages, both sounding rather German to us: Schnekenbusch and Hess.  Sophie told us later that Schnekenbush means snail bush in German!

The first mooring at Niderviller was in a hire base and not really suitable so we carried on to the second place where we could moor which was just before the first tunnel in an old basin that looked like it used to house a hire base too.  Looking closely at the old signage after we moored up we realised it was the same company as at the earlier mooring and they'd obviously recently relocated.

Moored at Niderviller

After lunch we walked into Niderviller which was about two km away and were really pleasantly surprised.  We knew it was well known for the manufacture of earthenware but didn’t know how much history was there.  It was also more like a small town than a village as it had a bank, post office, tabac, hairdressers and a couple of restaurants.

We walked past one of the old earthenware factories and could see some of the narrow-gauge wagons that used to carry the clay from the claypits out of town.  The tracks actually ran up to the top floor of the factory so the wagons must have been winched up.

Around the far side we found some of the factory was still in operation, producing bricks and roof tiles, many of which were stored alongside the lane we were walking along…

…and on the other side of the lane were some old kilns:

As there were still a couple of factories producing such items as roof tiles it wasn’t surprising to see many of the buildings with stunning new roofs.  In the centre of town, we came across a couple of bottle kilns (fours-bouteilles), the first we have seen in France, and we were reminded of being in Stoke-on-Trent, the only other place where we have found them.  We then realised we were at the site of an old pottery that was being restored.  The pottery was founded in 1735 producing porcelain for the first 100 years and then they moved on to manufacturing ceramics.

Restoration underway

The restoration is being funded by many parties including the EU, the French state, the region, the département, the mairie and the historical pottery society.  There were two bottle ovens still standing, both of which had been nicely restored already

One of the fours-bouteilles

As we walked away from the site, I noticed a large bird on the top of one of the chimneys.  My immediate thought was that it was a decoy, but Karen pointed out that it kept moving and I responded that it was probably mechanical.  She was convinced I was wrong and proved me right as it was a stork tidying its nest and it did explain why we came across a half-eaten cygnet at the base of the oven.

Stork nest building

There was a stream running through the town so we followed it to see if we could find a lavoir.  Having lost track of the stream as it went through some private gardens, I was all for giving up when Karen noticed a street named rue de la Source (spring).  We immediately went down the lane and, sure enough, there was a lavoir at the bottom.

It was rather a strange set up and we couldn’t work out why the washing stones were laid across the basin as it seemed the ladies would have been standing in the water.

Walking back to the boat we came across another of the clay wagons next to a pile of discarded clay.  The colour is apparently distinctive as it signifies that the earthenware that it produces can withstand higher then normal temperatures.

We also found some rail tracks leading from one of the old clay pits that is now a fishing lake.  As you can see from the photographs it was generally a cloudy day but it was very warm and close and felt like we needed a thunderstorm to clear the air.

On Thursday we cruised 11 km through no locks and saw 10, all of them hire boats so the holiday season feels like it’s getting underway so we’re going to give up counting them now.

FRIDAY 13 MAY

Whereas Thursday turned out to be unexpectedly exciting because of Niderviller’s bottle kilns and tile factories, we were already expecting Friday to be exciting because we were going down an inclined plane.  An inclined plane is built on the side of a cliff and operates in a similar manner to a funicular railway except the cable cars carry boats rather than people.  While inclined plane is the accepted term, we prefer to use slide which is how our friend’s Mike & Aileen describe them.

Before we reached the slide, we had to pass through two traffic light controlled tunnels.  Until 1969, when the slide was opened, there was then an immediate descent of 17 locks.  These locks were relatively close together, so the pounds were short.  They were also cut into the side of the valley so the cut itself was only just wide enough for two péniches to pass each other.  These two things hampered passage and coupled with the constant emptying of large locks and the small pounds causing water shortages it all led to the installation of the inclined plane which opened in 1969.

Emerging from the second tunnel we passed the top of the old flight and immediately went into a modern section of canal that would take us to the top of the slide.  It reminded us of the canal du Nord, another modern canal, with its sloping sides although this one wasn’t anyway near as wide and was only sloped on one side.

Through the Vosges mountains on a modern section

Whilst waiting at one of the sets of tunnel lights some holidaying Poles turned up on a hire boat and we exchanged pleasantries whilst we waited.  One of them spoke perfect English and almost sounded like Stephen Fry which was a bit uncanny.  When the green light appeared, we let them go ahead as they would be a lot quicker than us.  When we were going along the modern section seven German men caught up and overtook us on yet another hire boat, the decks of which seemed full of beer crates.  This meant we had to wait for both boats to descend the slide as the éclusiere didn’t want to risk putting us all in together.  We were quite happy with that as we were able to have a look around at the scenery and an exhibition.

The Germans and the Poles

Unlike funicular railways there was only one cable car, the function of a second car being carried out by the massive weights that can be seen on their way up below the boats in the picture at the top.  The size of the winding gear can be seen when compared to the van behind the far drum:

The operation didn’t take long and by the time we’d taken photos and had a look around it was our turn to go down. 

The view when descending

At the bottom we moored in the large waiting basin so we could have lunch and go for a walk back up to the top following the path of the old écluses.  With the six locks bypassed by the super deep lock on the other side of the summit and the 17 replaced by the slide, it meant we’d had 23 fewer locks to go through compared with boats up until the 1960s.

Moored in the waiting basin 

It was a fascinating as well as a very pretty walk up the cliff sided valley with plenty of shade, it would have been a stunning journey in a boat with weather like we were having.  All but a couple of the locks had lock houses and nearly all were occupied.  They were larger than the usual lock cottages, with three or four floors, hence calling them lock houses.  All but two were on the offside so they had no vehicular access and with the seclusion must be wonderful places to make a home.  

The second house from the top was one of those built on the onside and was now a bar and creperie and looked really inviting after our hot climb ui the flight.  Disappointingly, it wasn’t open until the evening during the week.

A rare sight – no lock houses to be seen

A couple of locks had walkways built through them

Beside the very top lock I found something I’ve been searching for for a long time, railway tracks on the towpath.  I know I go on about how electric and diesel locos used to tow barges into the 1970s but the only evidence, apart from photos, are the occasional display of a loco and also the disused engine sheds, of which there are many. 

My holy grail

Not only was there a good section of track but there was also a junction with a set of rails heading off into one of the loco sheds.

All this reminded me of a poster we’d looked at in the exhibition earlier where multiple locos could be seen pulling multiple barges:

All in all, it had been yet another fascinating day in which we cruised eight kilometres with no locks, down an inclined plane and through two tunnels. 

SATURDAY 14 MAY

We’d seen all we wanted to see for the moment around Garrebourg so left for Lutzelbourg on Saturday morning.  Although, we’ve earmarked some good-looking walks in the hill forests if we ever come back through.  Leaving our mooring we were soon back on the original canal and, looking back up to the left, could see the line of the disused locks snaking up the valley behind us. 

Just about to leave the modern sloping sided cut on Saturday morning

I radioed ahead to have the first lock set and it was ready when we arrived as were all the locks on the journey to Lutzelbourg.  The original Paris-Strasbourg railway had run in its own tunnels next to ours at the summit but crossed over just after our first lock and then veered away from us.

Railway viaduct in the pleasing sandstone colour of the area

Lutzelbourg has a Le Boat hire base and we regularly met hirers fresh out on their jaunts as we cruised along.  We’ve no idea how 10 guys fitted in let alone would sleep on this small boat, but I suppose being well into the beers at 10.00am would help.

Happy boozers

We knew we were approaching Lutzelbourg when we could see a ruined castle at the top of a hill overlooking the town.  We could also see the start of a line of hire boats at the Le Boat base.

Château Lutzelbourg

Once we were past the hire boat base we were in the centre of town and got ready to drop down the lock.  The town looked really pretty nestled in the bottom of the valley and we could see a small market underway near the lock:

The centre of Lutzelbourg

There were hirers in front of us being shown how to use the lock.  The guy showing them asked if we would like to go down as well but we declined as we didn’t want to scare the four girls on board.  I had a quick chat with the guy and asked about his languages as he was speaking German to the girls.  He said that like many French near the border and in a tourist area he spoke French, German and English.

Waiting for Lutzelbourg lock

We realised how small the town was when we moored up below the lock because we were almost out of the other side.

Our mooring at Lutzelbourg

We walked around the town and bought our lunch ingredients at the market.  The town was packed with tourists and judging by the plates on the cars and motorbikes most were Germans, but we shouldn’t have been surprised as it was picturesque.  We had lunch back on the boat and having eaten a whole baguette between us we realised that we needed to go for a good walk so set out to find the ruined château.  As we’ve found with our recent walks, we were lucky to be in the shade most of the way, which was especially welcome on the steep climb up.

Arriving at the 11^th century castle

The first human we saw at the top was dressed as a monk and we soon realised there was a crowd of them sitting at tables under a large tree and also women dressed in medieval costume.  We could smell the smoke of a barbecue and around the corner saw yet more people cooking up a feast, some in contemporary clothes and some dressed up.   We then noticed three helium balloons with digits on, flying in the order of 1 – 0 – 2 so we assumed it was a party celebrating a 102^nd birthday.  We walked to the other side of the castle first to see the views:

Looking down the way we’d come into Lutzelbourg and the small hire boat base

The rest of town

Unbelievably we’d parked the boat in what was probably the only spot in town that couldn’t be seen from the top because of some tall trees.  I say unbelievably as earlier in the year we’d been moored on the river Marne, walked to the top of a hill to get some views and look down at the boat and found we were in the only spot that couldn’t be seen.

As we walked back past the party a girl was putting her baby in a travel coat.  I asked her how old the child was, and she told me that he was six months next week.  I asked a few more questions and she realised I was struggling when I started asking who was 102 so she asked me if I’d rather speak German or English.  I opted for English and found out that the balloons were twisted and should have been showing 120 as two of the party were both 60 having met at primary school, sharing the same birthday and had being lifelong friends.  Stupidly I omitted to ask why many of them were dressed in medieval costume.

Medieval mum with some of the party behind

While on embarrassing situations such as people easily speaking three languages the other thing we’re finding is that we have trouble recognising some German tourists.  We’re so used to exchanging bonjours with total strangers all over France other than in the cities.  We’re finding it hard to stop with Germans as most of them, at best, give a surreptitious nod to a bonjour.  It’s always fascinating, if a little awkward, to see these little cultural differences. 

Back at the mooring we realised that we would lose the sun on the solar panels quite early because of the steep hills so moved 100 metres or so further down into an open basin.  We don’t think we’ve seen so many bollards and rings provided in such a small town, so we had plenty of choice of where to moor.  It was a much better spot to catch the evening sun but soon after tying up a hire boat went steaming by and we were suddenly at an angle.  There was clearly something in the water halfway along our boat that the speeding boat's large wash had put us on.  We soon sorted things out and moved up a little way and had no further problems. 

Final mooring in Lutzelbourg

We were also pleased to find that on the quay next to us was a small lavoir:

Later on, we thought we could hear the unmistakeable sound of the large and slow engine of a commercial approaching.  Sure enough the first commercial we’ve seen since leaving Nancy came by slowly and headed into the lock below us.  It can’t be much fun for them with so many hire boats around, but I suppose they’re not the ones who’re in danger of being damaged.  Who knows, it may even be quite fun seeing them panicking and scattering when a large boat appears around a corner, especially an unladen one.

On Saturday we cruised three kilometres down four locks.