July 27th saw Desormais leaving Ancy-le-Franc at 9:30 in the morning bound for Ravieres. A very nice (but apparently underutilized) port offering free power and water, this community offered a stop for services, as well as access to the neighboring community of Nuit, and the Chateau de Nuit. Four locks and a relatively short cruise found Desormais neatly tiedup and me heading out to explore the town.
For me, in my first year of venturing the canals of France, this community most exemplifies the unique features and friendly people you can find across France.
The large port provides a very spacious area in which to tie up and have services. Some of the town’s history seems tied to the limestone quarry on the outside of the village, still being actively operated by Rocamat. Ravieres has recently lost some merchants (the boucherie and tabac, for example) but still offers a very nice Proximarche. At the upstream end of the right bank lies a very friendly café, L’idylle. And across the canal, about 1 km away via a tree lined road, stands the old walled community of Nuit.
My stop in this community taught me several important lessons.
My first stop after tying up was the restaurant L’Idylle for lunch. The individual serving lunch was distinctive due to his dreadlocks, and I felt certain I’d seen him mingling in the crowd at the weekly concert gathering in Ancy-le-Franc (note: barges don’t travel far each day!). He was friendly and helpful, the two of us conversing using my poor French and his spotty English. After a late lunch and some time on the boat, I set out walkingfor the neighboring community of Nuits, with a backpack in tow.
I had crossed the canal and was well towards Nuits when the afternoon rain shower
struck. I’d already come past the few bridges crossing the L’Armancon, the river that supplies the Canal du Bourgogne in that region. I’d seen swimmers gathered around the river (large stream at that point), and was dodging along under the windward parts of the street, sticking close to buildings to keep out of the light rain. Ultimately, on the far edge of Nuits, I found the entrance to the Chateau de Nuits, arriving around 4 in the afternoon, wet and with backpack in hand.
The Chateau de Nuits was constructed beginning in 1560. It was built with a defensive design, but meant to be incorporated into the walled city of Nuits as an extension of its defensive perimeter. The property was occupied by the Nazis in WWII, and the caretaker who took my fee acknowledged some of the last
inscriptions in the one cell in the basement were carved by French Resistance members held captive there.
The most remarkable aspect of visiting this community was that the caretaker greeted me, took my fee, and, after a friendly chat,handing me a large skeleton key, directed me toward the lower door that would admit me to the basement level. I had arrive recently drenched, with backpack in place, and this gentleman willingly handed me a key, a sheet describing the features of each room in differing languages, and set me on my way. I had free access to this remarkable property for 45 minutes, exploring the furnishings, the efforts of prior owners to chart the natural environment, and other aspects of this remarkable (but underpublicized) property, all alone and with my backpack. When done, I made my way out, we chatted some more, I returned his key and went on my way. There was never a sign of concern or distrust, I was never asked to open my backpack upon leaving, he was simply happy to have me there to view the chateau.
The second adventure (and lesson) to this journey occurred as I returned to the boat. As I walked back through Nuits, I explored some of the side streets. This included some of the remaining walled gates to the city.
In one remarkable insight into the “interior” and private life of many French citizens, I found open gates to a back court of a home just meters from a historic gate to the city. Images of the French SST, the Eiffel Tower all were represented just yards from a centuries old gate to the city. These gates to interior courts or yards are
common in most towns, and the interiors are typically hidden. From all I have read, the French are reserved in public, speaking quietly, even in restaurants. I suspect it is this public reservation that leads to the sheltered interiors, and that appears to be where individuality is expressed whether through gardens, other pursuits or, in this case, art.
Finally, passing beyond the gates of old Nuits and following the banks of L’Armancon, I came face to face with the last lesson of the day. As I walked toward the last, two lane bridge headed toward Reveries, I saw that my side of the bridge was lined with 10 to 12 young men, all whom had been swimming, drinking beer, and enjoying the cooling afternoon along L’Armencon. Based upon my (US) cultural experience, I assumed the best I might encounter was being invisible as I passed.
Still, my experience with French culture required that I acknowledge their presence with a simple “Bon Jour”. The result startled me. Every young man, without hesitation or forethought, turned, faced me, and responded with “Bon Jour, Monsieur”. This was a response of instinct, of training that,even having been well raised in Virginia by my parents, I hadn’t anticipated from a group of young men, drinking beer in the sun, smoking and exchanging jokes and stories. That moment changed my view of French culture, and informed my view of what I might expect elsewhere in France, all for the better. It was a remarkable moment. Community, civility and basic respect does continue to exist across the world, even though (and despite) my reservations about passing through a group of smoking, beer drinking young men. On that day, they proved me to be the lesser individual, with my doubts and reservations.
The lessons of the day, however, were not over.
Returning to the boat and in acknowledgement of the heat, roof vents and other windows were open. I had changed out of my damp clothes from my Nuits tour. Dinner was ahead, and I looked forward to meeting my dreadlocked friend again.
Leaving the boat, I took a seat outside L’Idylle, and enjoyed the first course watching as dark clouds, a rarity up to that point, gathered off to the south. Finally, with rising winds and some scattered rain drops, it became clear some retreat inside was warranted. I move inside, the outside weather continued to deteriorate, and I found myself explaining, in my poor French, that the windows on my boat were open and I had to pay my bill and return to the boat.
I did so, dashed out the door and, spurred on with what seemed to be a lighting strike just feet off my posterior, raced home to close the boat and stop the deluge from flooding the boat. Needless to say, the boat was fine, while I was drenched. The friendly understanding and haste in helping with my bill, despite my limited French, was still much appreciated.
This was the last of the lessons of Ravieres. So, in summary, 1) don’t underestimate the gifts of small communities and the trust afforded strangers; 2) don’t judge young people (or communities) by anything other than their actions, and expect to be pleasantly surprised; 3) learn to appreciate how speciallysome strangers react in moments of urgency or need. This was a great visit, a community with a history worth visiting, history all around ir, in the walls, gates and chateau in Nuits, the church in Ravieres, industry worth understanding in the stoneworks of Ravieres, and the embracing and respectful culture of rural France.