Wandering the Yonne out of Burgundy

Montereau fault Yonne
We are moored in this town where the Yonne falls (fault) into the Seine.  For some reason the Yonne, the bigger river, ends here where it joins the Petite Seine which is much smaller.  We asked a Frenchman why the Yonne is not called the Seine and he shrugged and answered “tradition” – well that was helpful!
For the last few weeks our occasional travelling companions have been Bruce and Yerda from Washington state on their converted Dutch mail boat “Rival” (pron, Reeval) and they have been great fun and a wealth of knowledge. Last year we did this same stretch upstream and surmounted the dreaded slope sided locks so we weren’t as fearful this time around but it can actually be worse going down if you get “hung up” on the rough side of the lock and the water recedes.   We rafted the two boats together and had three of us manning ropes and boathooks to keep away from the sides while Terry used the engine to keep us straight and all went smoothly,  despite the Belgians.

The Yonne is a pretty river but there are not many moorings so we did the same stops as last year in reverse and it was interesting to revisit places, some of which were a let down and others were even better, particularly the town of Sens.  It was the seat of the Popes in the 11th century and has the first of the great Gothic Cathedrals, a fascinating museum with a huge collection of Roman artifacts, many medieval houses and lots of civic pride, not to mention a lovely free mooring with the all important electricity and water, and a great restaurant “La Madelaine” where we had the best meal so far this year.  Our musical journey continued on a Saturday night in front of the Cathedral where the “Wild Socks” entertained us with Rock and Roll classics from the 50s to the 70s, all in French!


At Pont sur Yonne there are two long pontoons and we moored with 5 other boats spread across them until a giant hotel boat  showed up, with no reservation and 50 elderly guests they had to get off to a bus the next day.  We all offered to regroup to one pontoon for which they rewarded each boat with a bottle of Champagne and some of us a tour of the boat. Their maneuvering seemed as good as their planning so it was all entertaining.
We have now left Burgundy and it seems strange we have spent all this time in the same province but is certainly one of the richest and most fascinating in France.  If it hadn’t been for short sighted inheritance practices the whole country, and perhaps beyond could have been all Burgundy.  Now we are in the tellingly named region of Ille de France waiting for our friend Sharon to arrive and we will slide on down the Seine next week into Paris.