VF Britannica Via Campaniensis Voie de Vezelay 2025

Our last day of cruising ☹️. Tomorrow we say good-bye to Calypso 29 and head to Paris to say goodbye to Peter, who has decided to go home. But today we enjoy a peaceful cruise with hardly any locks.

Mower-mulcher.

Look at the “goats” says Ken. I only saw sheep.

The back and forth nattering continues unabated. I hid inside the boat.

Look at the “ducks and geese” said Ken. I  was inside when he passed the birds so he pulled the boat over to the side so I could jump off and run back for some photos of the “geese”.

Very odd looking geese.

I didn’t make it to the lock before the boat started it’s descent into the depths but we were mooring right after so I ran ahead to be rope crew from shore to avoid getting yelled at by Captain Bligh. A aaaaargh, matey!

Just a beautiful statue beside the canal.

Brilliant fall colours. But for some reason I think it is still summer.

So many names from WW1 and only 4 from WW2.

Disappeared in Buchenwald concentration camp.

Executed by Nazis 1944.  France surrendered in 1940, so only one casualty. You have to assume that the 3 who were executed were resistance fighters as this area was occupied by the Germans.

But on a happier note, today when I walked through the town, I passed townsfolk carrying big pots of food and then realized there was a “walk-a-thon” happening, with a meal at the end. I was tempted to pull out our credentials to show we had walked about 300 km, not just 6 or 12, so we could cadge a meal. They probably would have welcomed us but I was too chicken to ask.

We passed so many walkers as we were leaving, they all waved and said hello. My arm was getting tired but you had to wave to all the little ones who were excited to see a boat.

Coming into Decize, the end of the canal.

Thank you for visiting the Canal du Nivernais. Then we sail onto the river Loire.

I went for an explore with one last bike ride. Called Peter out from across the port.

We met an American couple who gave Ken a 9 out of 10 for his parking, then changed it to 8 out of 10 for “indecisiveness ” when he changed his mooring spot.

Peter’s supper from the automatic pizza distributor. Hey, don’t turn your nose up at it. Automatic pizza dispensers saved us a few times on the Via Francigena, when sometimes they spit out the only available food for the day.  As Ken says, it’s not the best pizza but it’s not the worst either.

We spent the evening yakking with some Australian ladies who were also finishing their week afloat as an American couple who joined the “own a boat” program with Leboat.

One of the ladies had done the Camino Frances and had the same Camino shell necklace as me. She asked why I bought one with colours and I just said Ken picked it out for me. I wasn’t sure where she was going with that. She also stated we should carry our own packs so I think perhaps she has a strong stance or personal belief on what a pilgrimage should be. I prefer not to get into those conversations.

We also packed up Rawley, who is going home with Peter. We are just going to carry our packs so we’ll see how that goes. I am already practicing my whinging about how heavy my pack is.

Mornings are always chilly and foggy.

We were moored at a campground, which still had power and running water in its bathrooms, despite the fact the campground closed in late September.  A swan and a heron shared the lagoon with us.

The face Ken makes when he figures the rope crew is shirking their duties.

We moored for lunch in the lock near The village of Isenay, so Scott and I walked up the hill to look around.

We were visited by this friend floppy cat.

This is a cooperative. The plaques on the wall are prize plaques, similar to our prize ribbons.  For best cows.

I need to plant some sumacs.

We’ve also seen a lot of bamboo here.  Sadly, we have not seen any pandas.

Lots of lizards though.

I would love to explore this chateau but it’s private.

Duck!

So exciting. Another boat! The only one we’ll see today. Well, boat that’s actually moving.

Ken missed seeing this Citroën.

Old old well.

Climbed a very steep hill to get to the statue.

There are clam fossils in the stairs.

This is the best do not litter sign I’ve seen.

Ken is so helpful.

There are two swans hiding in the water somewhere.

I love how peoe hang out their windows and talk to passers-by.

No shore power or water again. Eh.

Watch your big kapusta, Ken!

Ken wants this old Citroen truck. I said nothing because no matter what I say, he interprets it to mean, go ahead, buy it.

Why don’t you let Scott drive for a while?

Oh no! I was only kidding! Watch out!!!

Lots of fisher folks on the shore but we never see them catching anything.

These are empress trees (paulownia). They are native to China and Asia but grown in France as ornamentals. They will apparently grow to 10 feet in their first year. Considered invasive in much of North America. but I still want one.

Very old kilometer stone marking 40 km to the Loir River and the end of the canal.

Some of the lock houses in this section of the canal are still lived in. I want one.

Peter walked between two of the locks, about a km, but he still made it the same time as the boat.

Scott and I took turns on the bike  riding between the locks and helping with the ropes from the shore.

They’ve planted trees all along the canal.

A very suspicious bull.

Do you think Ken will figure out he needs to turn here?

There is a swan in the middle of this photo and a heron landed beside it while I was taking this photo.

A small bar was beside the campground where we are moored. Ken enjoyed his whiskey, which he said was not an “Alberta pour” but a “generous dollop”.

Our cozy home as night falls.

We wave goodbye to the Germans who are heading north to the locaboat base where we stayed the night before.

Stork nest? I would say Osprey if we were home. Could be heron as well, as we’ve seen many of those as well.

Reminds me of home.

Love the colours.

Still talking to each other! No mutiny yet.

Some of the mistletoe is truly impressive.

Scott baked homemade pretzels in the what he called a piece of crap oven and chicken teriyaki for supper. Borscht for lunch.  Our boat is stocked with fresh herbs, fruits and veggies.

Just wanted to show the force with which the locks are emptied.  We go down in the boat quite fast.

The original living walls. It’s amazing that these plants survive being periodically submerged. There’s no soil but I suspect the canal water acts as heavy duty fertilizer.

Weird moss on the lock wall.

Borscht for lunch.

And apparently a bag of Bugles.

Lots of herons and egrets but they all take off when they see Ken coming.

This is the back of the chateau, well moor the boat in front of it.  Parts of it exist from the 10th century when it was a castle surrounded by the river on 3 sides.

The front door.

Apple tree in blossom in mid-October???

Our home for the night.

We say goodbye to Kurt and Bonnie and set off on another misty morning.  Today we will climb the Sardy staircase of 16 back to back locks, the last locks of the day, followed by three tunnels.

The spiderwebs are magnificent in the mist.

Rope girl primed and ready.

Should I go straight? Or maybe I should go straight? Let’s check out the map. Where’s GoggleMaps Boy?

One lock-keepers house / art studio had some odd sculptures…and a hungry cat (no photo) who came looking for food. I made Ken give up his can of tuna.

These two lock-keepers were with us for the whole day. I have to say, of all the canal trips we’ve taken, the lock-keepers on the Nivernais have been by far the most professional and helpful.

The one on the right spoke English.

For the 16 locks, to make things easier for the lock-keepers, I stayed on land to help with the ropes and then would ride my little bike to the next lock.

The lock-keeper told us that after the 16th lock we had to moor for about an hour because the LeBoat boss was coming up through the tunnels with a party of five small electric boats – and we had to give them the right of way. He kept shaking his head and was obviously not impressed that he was told to hold us back. So we sat for an hour and a bit, but that was okay. He was more upset than we were (we didn’t actually care).

And here’s the little boats. How cute! Most of the passengers spoke English so we exchanged a few pleasantries.

The usual dynamic. Terry says wise and profound things and Ken rolls his eyes.

The lock-keeper came to tell us we could head out. Ken had given the remains of his Grand Marnier to the two lock-keepers from yesterday and this morning, but these two said no to beer and/or pistachio chocolate drumsticks (ice cream hurts his teeth).

There is calcium buildup and stalagmites forming in the tunnels.

There were three vent shafts in the 750 m tunnel – I barely managed to catch a pic of one.

We come out of the tunnels to the Port of Baye, where we will moor for the night. And we see all the little boats moored and a party happened.  I jokingly said we should crash the party (some foreshadowing there).

Ken did such a good job backing Calypso 29 into the mooring between two boats, with nary a bump or need for correction, that the Germans in the boat next door all clapped for him. Later one of them said he assumed we had a boat back home as Ken had parked so effortlessly.  I said nope, just a canoe!

Ken took over the blogging here. So who should come over from the large gathering under the gazebo (the party we had joked about crashing) but the managing director of LeBoat, who invited us over to have a sip and a nosh. So we did!  We got introduced to the LeBoat management staff – they were from all over Europe, England, Scotland and Canada. They asked us to say a few things about our experiences.  When they heard we had done 6 trips with LeBoat over the years, the first in 2005, and of our walking so far, they got very enthusiastic!  They were all videoing us and asked if they could use what we had said. We said sure and Ken volunteered that if they needed a highly paid spokesman that looked a bit like an old Muppet he would be happy to help.  The lady who runs the Canadian ops was there as well, so we heard just how much we should do one of the Canadian canals, which ironically we are already planning.  Lots of laughter and good feelings but eventually we had to go eat Scott’s beef bourgignon which he had spent the day preparing (the aroma of it in the oven had caused our poor hard working lock keeper to drool a bit back at the 16 locks) and we left them to their party.

Great connection with the LeBoat folks and I think we added some zest and a bit of real feedback to their meeting. The director said they couldn’t have planned and coordinated this meeting if they had tried – it was certainly serendipitous.  We even suggested they bring over a tray of goodies to the Germans, who had rented from a competitor, which they did. From our point of view, we got some yummy hors d’oeuvres and maybe we’ll get ample toilet paper and some oven mitts the next time we cruise (that was the extent of our feedback 😁!)

Cheryl on the left is the managing director. Lisa on the left is the national marketing director based in Canada. How cool was this?

Bats. Lots of bats flying tonight.

Did I mention Scott made Pasta Carbonera for supper last night?

Pretty chilly in the boat this morning. Like clumbing out of your toasty sleeping bag and out of the tent. Wear a sweater, says Captain Bligh.

Breakfast of champions – bacon flavoured Bugles! Bacon is for breakfast, isn’t it? Why don’t we have Bugles in Canada anymore? I’m going to bring back a case of them.

This village was supposed to have a small grocery (it did not) but Ken and I did manage to break up a potential cat fight. We couldn’t understand why this guy wouldn’t move even when a car narrowly missed him.  But it was a stand off as we were soon to see, which we apparently and rudely interrupted.

The bully.

The intended victim.

Off we go…with no stray cats on board. 😟

Mistle-toe killed trees. Peter wants to know why mistletoe is associated with Christmas cheer when it is actually a serial killer. Good question.

Hung up our Canadian flag but when I went to adjust it, I found a French stowaway.

Another lock-keeper. They manage several at the same time and go between them by van or bicycle.

Ominous cloud!

On this stretch of the canal we are climbing towards a summit. So we drive into a lock, the lock is filled, the boat moves up, and we drive out at a higher level.

You need rope crew to man ropes at the front and back of the boat to hold the boat at the side of the lock and prevent the boat from crashing around in the lock. The water rushes in very very quickly.

I am rope crew. Heavy sigh.

If you look where the ropes are hitting the rock, you can see a groove carved into the rock where the ropes have rubbed it over the centuries

Inside the lock.

Baaaa.

One of the planned highlights of the trip was crossing paths with Ken’s bird dog pilot and his partner. Ken had convinced them to try a canal trip. They started at the south end and we were coming from the north. Given how narrow the canal is and the fact that there are very few boats on the canal this time of year, I suspect we won’t have trouble finding each other.

We ended up mooring at the rival boat company’s Locaboat base for the night, with shore power, water and showers. But no photos. I am slipping.

Scott had a big dinner planned (Ken’s birthday party) and needed a few more supplies, so he and I rode our bikes 5 km to a grocery store and back.

Poinsettias for sale already? And less than 6 bucks Canadian for a good sized healthy plant???

May I just point out that MrMorallySuperior did not stop at this train crossing? He who always points out that I have failed to signal appropriately or come to a complete and full stop? Sheesh.

By the time we returned to the boat, Bonnie and Kurt had arrived. Scott made a pesto chicken pasta, a Calabrese salad (layers of fresh mozzarella and tomatoes) and linguine with pesto and chicken. Best of all were the poached pears with ice cream (yes, we carted the ice cream in our packs from the store). Scott has been feeding us extremely well, including the omelets and lentil salad for lunch.

Oddly enough, I took no photos of the dinner party, our guests, or the feast Scott prepared.

It was definitely a highlight meeting up with Kurt and Bonnie, good company and a chance to get to know them better…and practice our English.

Today was a day of logistics.  We left our rental house. Peter and I headed up the hill with our laundry, while Scott and Ken headed down to the LeBoat base with all our stuff, about 3 km.   Then they dumped all our stuff at the base and came back up the hill with Rawley and the big pack  now empty and ready to be filled with a week’s worth of groceries.

I first made a stop at the Tannay Mairie (city hall) to get stamps for our pilgrim passports (a successful mission) and then a quick stop in the church – no stamp there.

We love these outdoor laundries when we can find them. But a lady hogged the dryer for more than an hour and I had to wait. And then another lady and her husband came and we all watched the laundry going round and round. Second lady was mad at the first lady for taking so long and talked non-stop without taking a breath. When I told her she had to speak more slowly so I could understand she just laughed and went on as quickly as ever  saying everyone told her to slow down but she just couldn’t so I just smiled and nodded and watched the laundry go round.

What the heck is this?

Oh. A chou romanesco.  Well, that certainly clears that up (not).  Supposedly a cross between cauliflower and broccoli.

Ken and I would have walked out of the store with one bag of groceries. But Scott has planned a fancy menu for the whole week…so we have a whole cartful of groceries. Keep in mind there is a 3 Km walk back to the boat base, luckily all downhill.

I need some ivy on my house.

Tannay town square.

The local elementary school.

Ken couldn’t understand the brand new chain on an obviously non-optimal and very old bench…which would likely fall apart if Ken sat on it.

The village on the hill from across the valley, switchbacks to get down to the canal and then long steep up to Tannay yesterday.

Made it to the LeBoat base, ready to go.

But first, a safety briefing video. Warm welcome from the LeBoat base manager and technician, who were happy to hear we were veteran LeBoaters (our 6th time, first was in 2005). And probably relieved that we weren’t inexperienced newbies.

Our boat, Calypso 29. Pretty sure we’ve had a Calypso before. It’s an older boat but I chose it because of the front seating area, which the newer boats don’t have. There’s nothing so relaxing as sitting in the front of the boat, cruising down the canal, and watching the scenery go by…until Captain Bligh yells for the rope crew.

Ken helping another boater moor their boat.

More mistletoe.

Off we go. Immediately as you leave the base, you come to a lift bridge. Normally someone has to jump off the boat and push the button to lift and lower the bridge but the lock-keeper was there to do it for us. Then he raced down the towpath on his motorbike to handle the next lift bridge and three locks.

Ken has assumed the role of grumpy boat captain.  Whispers of a mutiny by the rope crew are starting to be heard. Or maybe even union organization.

Leaves are starting to turn and we’re seeing some beautiful reflections.

Our mooring for the night. No marina, no power, just a lovely spot on the side of the canal with a village down the road.

Our cozy home for the next week.

We were moored by a yard full of oak logs, with sprinklers going non-stop to keep the wood wet (prevents the wood from cracking).

October super-moon.

The change from our usual hard-scrabble walking to this bourgeois lifestyle is a change that Ken can heartily embrace. Maybe he will even be a nice Captain (for a change).  At least, no floggings or plank walking were ordered tonight!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KEN!!!

Today is the last day of walking before we take a break from our Camino and head down the Canal du Nivernais on our boat.

We are now officially walking on the Via Lemovicensis (or Voie de Vezelay), one of four nationally recognized Camino routes in France.

As today promised to be a long day  Peter chose to move ahead by taxi and we sent Rawley the Trolley with him.

The hotel had a large salon where Peter was able to wait for the taxi to pick him up at 400 pm – we figured we would arrive in Tannay around the same time. Hotel le Compestelle was very good to us.

Because it was Ken’s birthday, Scott agreed to be nice to Ken all day and to side with Ken in any Ken-Terry argument for a whole week. We’ll see how that goes.

And off we go, with lighter packs.

Which way do we go which way do we go?!? Ack! I am so confused!  Actually the trail splits here into a north and south route, which join up again in a few hundred kilometers. We are taking the north route to the boat base at Tannay, but will rejoin the Via on the south route. Confused? Ken is too.

The Gendarmerie…have you been behaving, Ken?

Poignant memorial to a resistance fighter (holder of many medals of honour) who was executed by firing squad by the Nazis and his wife, who died in Auschwitz concentration camp. Reminders of the World Wars are everywhere.

The Via Lemovicensis (heretofor referred to as the Via as Lemovicensis is too long to type) is so well marked compared to the Via Campaniensis. Just follow the blue and yellow shell markers.

Don’t drop the basketball – pretty steep downhill from here. You’ll be running after the ball forever.

A bit of graffiti against the eating of animals. Since Scott is a meat lover I told him this translates to Be Kind to Animals.

Ironically, or perhaps deliberately,  the graffiti is right beside the animals in question

Out of the town and farmer’s fields and into the forest.

It did not escape the notice of both Scott and Terry that the colour of the slug exactly matches the colour of Ken’s fleecy.  Coincidence? Some might argue not!

Ancient distance marker. This trail is so old that it has actually been beaten down a few feet in places.

Had to do a BugSnax photoshoot on these giant fungi.

You might need to be a fan of the Father Ted television series to understand and roll your eyes at this photo. Ken’s favorite chocolate bar by far!  Or is he really father Jack Hackett!?

Dung beetle doing their job. Should had Bungur out with them.

A muddy sometimes difficult trail. Had to do a lot of puddle-jumping to avoid the muck.

Bunger meets slug.

Badger tracks.

Two happy faces.

This town had a potable water tap, bathrooms and shelter for pilgrims. It also serves as the town library and communal hall.

What is this?

Tannay on the other side of the valley.

Return to the Canal du Nivernais.

Moo.

We walked down down down from that town on the other hill. And now we go up up up.

It is so sad when you are trudging slowly up the hill and Peter goes whizzing by you in the taxi.

By the way, this was not Peter’s taxi!

Back in Tannay where we picked up our boat in 2024. This tiny sign with the scallops shell is what clued me in to this town being on the Camino.

Coming back to Tannay is an odd feeling, almost like coming home in a weird sort of way.

First, we want to send our congratulations to nephew Thomas and his bride Sarah on their wedding. We sadly couldn’t attend but we are thinking of them as they embark on this new journey together!

These beds in the hotel are totally symbolic of what occupies Terry’s mind (on the left) and what occupies Ken’s mind (on the right) during this walk.  Rhetorical question: who is having a better time?

Pouring rain this morning. We’re glad not to be walking.

The basilica in Vezelay is the official start to the Via Lemovicencis (or Voie de Vezelay), one of 4 nationally recognized routes through France to Santiago in Spain.  As such, it has an actual pilgrim office.

These arches remind us of the grande mosque in Cordoba, Spain; the stripes remind us of the Moorish influence.

A wooden pilgrim.

In 1946, after the war,

The translation into English. Very poignant, I thought. I lit my candle in front of the German prisoners’ cross.

My candle for Ethel.

I went out hoping the rainwater was pouring through gargoyles but it was only stone spouts. Sorry, Ruth.

Peter is a little soggy.

You can barely make out the village we walked up from yesterday.

Everything in this store is made from recycled metal car parts. What’s that you ask? Did I buy something? Well. Yes. Yes, I did.

Huge puppers in the restaurant.

Strange little peppers on my salad, smaller than a grape.

Pilgrim in the fireplace at our hotel.

I took an evening walk.

I was the only person in the church. I have to admit that it felt so different than earlier in the day when it was filled with people…almost magical.

Ken had to try the beer brewed in Vezelay

Another successful and lucky day in that we were warm, dry and well fed in Vezelay instead of slogging it out on a soggy bush trail or climbing a hill that Scott insists is just a small incline!

This is to be Peter’s last day of walking.  Tonight we will reach Vezelay and a pilgrim rest day. Vezelay is the start of one of four nationally recognized Camino routes.

Off we go, stopping first for a breakfast of eggs instead of the usual croissants or baguette with coffee/hot chocolate.

He was hopping up and down on his front paws, too funny.

Random into a little snag with our booking for the night so had to spend time in this little park to get things sorted. I wanted this little puppy, so cute and wasn’t happy.

Petainque pitch (a form of lawn bowling). The sign basically translates to “no complaining” 😁

We decided to see how MapMyWalk would handle being spun on the merry-go-round.  Shows a circle on the map. It doesn’t take much to entertain Ken.

The dog and cat are obviously part of the family as they showed no interest in each other but the cat did follow along on the walk. The cat showed no interest in me either. Snooty cat.

Autumn crocus.

Starting to see a hill with a castle on top. I hope we don’t have to climb it.

Pilgrim shell in a random tree.

This is actually a flower – the downy rose.

No optimal bench today.

But someone has their optimal chair…no names mentioned. I would ask to sit in it but I’d never get out of it! Nor would I hear the end of it.

Ken titled this “Gypsy Terry”.

How cool to own property on both sides of the river and have your own private bridge between the two.

We met an English lady named Lucy at this cafe who gave us some tips on where to eat in Vezelay.  She lives here now. Well, presumably not in the bar but in this small town at the foot of Vezelay mountain.

The cafe was right on a main road and the trucks go whizzing by without slowing down.

Peter didn’t seem to notice.

I admire the resilience of flowers that can grow in concrete.

This is a Citroen Dyane which was an update to the 2cv. Terry said she could have that so more options for filling the yard abound!  (No, I didn’t!)

Bit of a hill climb.

A Jacques of all trades, although he appears to be missing the baguettes.

You can make out the Vezelay basilica on the hill in the distance.

An actual live slithering snake instead of a flattened one like we usually see.

Luch from the cafe came by to see how we were managing the big climb. Ken probably lied and said “its fine”.

He doesn’t look fine!

A welcome optimal bench at the almost top. We went down a bit to get to our hotel. We always seem to end the day with a big hill. We are getting better at them, though.

The view from the optimal bench was spectacular!

Explored the tiny town for a bit. This antique store used to be a church several centuries ago.

Circular stair down into the cellars.

Lobstermobile. Photo doesn’t do it justice.

Our view from the hotel window. Not too shabby.

Basically a recovery day for Ken who really pushed his guts out the day before on the mile high hill. It’s amazing what a couple of actual good meals and just slowing the pace will do. Never too old to learn the hard way!