Champagne-Ardenne

We arrived at Charleville-Mézières just over noon and easily found the entrance to the marina. As we sailed in, the depth dropped to 1,80m. We slowed down. It was unnecessary because when we slowly slipped into the pool it rose to 2,50m. The pontoons looked new and there was access to electricity and water from all places. The marina was well maintained, had 5 meter flood protection and was with 80 berths the largest marina we had seen since Maastricht. 

But it was completely empty for both. Not a single boat or dinghy lay there. 

We moored longships by a pontoon at the bottom of the basin just opposite a room with half a dozen camperers. 

To our surprise, it was open to electricity and water and with a little good will we could also catch the free WiFi signal. 

Pretty strange being the only boat in such a big Marina, 

Nearly so little 

'Pallet alone in the world like' 

Charleville-Mézières has approx. 50.000 inhabitants and is headquartered in the department of Ardennes, which is part of the Champagne-Ardenne region. Here is produced the fine French champagne and it is in the Charleville-Mézières poet Arthur Rimbaud is born. 

We looked at business, shopped in the pedestrian zone, saw the city's beautiful church, stocked up, cycled tours and cultivated cafe life at the many cafes on the large beautiful 'Place Ducale', which most of all reminded us of Amalienborg Castle Square. 

After 3 days we sailed on. 

After a few hours of sailing, we reached the Pont-a-bar. Here we turned into the Canal des Ardennes, went through 2 locks and reached the service station where you can refuel with diesel. We had actually planned to spend the night there, but the lady at the service station very enthusiastically recommended a 'beautiful stopover' on the Meuse. She eagerly pointed out the place on a map and explained that we could easily get there before the locks closed at 18. 

Without really knowing how it had gone, we found ourselves out on the Meuse again after half an hour and continued the day's sailing. 

We reached Sedan at 17.30 - half an hour before the locks closed. We could well reach 'the beautiful stopover' but still decided to anduve the town's small marina. 

Pontoons had not yet been laid out, but we managed to moor longships at the quay. Luck was with us. A few meters in front of us lay a few large rocks below the water surface. We first saw them when we were well moored. 

We had not lain long at the quay before we were visited by a very talkative and eagerly gesturing lady. We understood so much that she was the harbor master and that we had to go up to the harbor office. Up there, she gave us a paper that we filled out, after which she called a Thomas.  

Bon jour, Thomas, d'accord Thomas, Je comprend, Thomas, Je sais, Thomas, Merci, Thomas, Au revoir, Thomas sounded it until she with a significant mine ended the conversation. She then presented us with a bill of 40 cents (3 kr) - 20 cents in course tax per person. We did not have to pay port dues. The pontoons had not yet been laid out and there was no access to electricity, as she (probably) explained it. 

Next day we sailed on. 

Søren was right. The landscape is beautiful. The mountains had become hills, hills, meadows with grazing horses and cows and fields, which the river wandered through. 

Strange to think that the area that now signaled so much peace and idyll for 100 years ago was one of the world's most eerie wars. 

After 44km and 6 locks we reached the town of Stenay. It was the last city the Americans occupied during World War I. The attack began on November 1, 11 at. 1918 in the morning. The city was of no military significance. The goal was to ensure the soldiers access to the city's bathing facilities. Both parties fought and suffered heavy losses. Exactly at 8 the fighting was stopped. World War I was over and the battle for Stenay came to stand as one of the symbols of the meaninglessness of the war. 

We stayed in Stenay one day more. Washed clothes, clean sheets and enjoyed the quiet and quiet life of the small town. 

The next day we woke up to the fog. When the sun rose higher in the sky, it disappeared. Now it was finally summer. 

We left and sailed a few hours until we reached the town of Dun-sur-Meuse.

On the next stretch to Verdun, the locks are manual. This means that we must call VNF - the state channel company - no later than 15.00 the day before departure and announce departure time and destination. 

VNF then poses with a man who follows us by car and drives ahead and opens the locks. 

We hope