“Genau”! Correct, of course. This is the world that I hear more often here in Germany.
“Genau”: The Main is quite nice indeed. Clear water, some red and pink sandy beaches and a still gentle opposite current. However the stone banks running all along the sides, placed to prevent erosion, have killed the real river.
Despite this, we can see lots of wildlife, such as very big duck and swans, whose regal beauty would glorify even a less stunning scenery than the one on show here, resembling Altdorfer art.
Our departure from Frankfurt was like living a life in a day!
In the morning, in a coffee shop, I met a very interesting man, Kay. When my phone falls from my pocket to the floor, he says: “It never takes a holiday…”. “What?” I ask. “The force of gravity” he states, and that’s the beginning of one of the most interesting conversation of my all life.
We talk about the big and the small picture, and about eating. Kay is a tough man, very fit: He could be 50 as well as 1.000 years old. His expression is hard, he must have suffered, but as soon as his smile pops out he becomes a joyful child. He tells me how, from being a carpenter and wood restorer, in the last 15 years he turned into a macrobiotic cook: A new diet and Chinese medicine (that’s food and care about your own lifestyle) changed his approach to life. And he’s willing to teach me something, as a gift.
I follow him in a small garden where, seated on a bench, he writes me many things that I’m going to put into practice. I’ll tell you more soon: In the meantime I have to finish off that little food left into Clodia’s storeroom.
Eventually, we set off three hours behind schedule: Fine is quite upset, as she had organized two meetings with jornalists about 18km far from Frankfurt for the next day, so I can’t blame her.
Frankfurt, from the river, is beautiful. There’re lots of people around, it’s Sunday morning. The first surprise, after a short while, strikes me! When I turn back to check the height of a bridge (mindful of the recent damages) I see…
I can’t believe my very own eyes, rubbing them and saying: “Noooo!!! It was just a dream: I’ve never left Venice…” What is coming toward me is a Sandolo (a tipical Venetian boat that’s rowed standing up and facing forward)! I pinch myself and realize I’m awake: This is a real Sandolo in Frankfurt.
I approach it, taking pictures and having a chat with the two rowers, a man and a woman, members to the “Voga alla Veneta” (Venetian Rowing) association in Frankfurt. Unfortunately I’ve lost their address, but I’ll try to get in contact to them anyway.
One hundred metres away, on the right bank of the Main and in the midst of a crowd of people, I spot a bizarre boat bearing a familiar name: “Istanbul”.
It’s a bar, and there’s even a desk for those coming by the river, so I dock happily and ask to the very busy bartender-captain: “Guess where we’re going?”. “I wonder…” he answers, offering us three lemonades made by grandma’s recipe. In exchange I give him one of our t-shirts.
He tells me that this is the only boat in Germany offering bar service aboard, that’s very common in the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn. Te?ekkür Ederim, thanks a lot.
When we set off, I find it really hard to get on, not only for a rather strong back current but especially for all the people willing to talk to me and paying compliments. Ich liebe Deutschland.
Further on, the industrial landscape slowly turns into a more natural scenery and a weak wind comes to help for a short while. The next morning we’ll have a meeting in Hanau (21 km away) with a journalist of the monthly magazine Segel and with a troupe of RTL, a popular German International TV station. We’re very doubtful about our chances to get there in time, having set sails so late.
Just after the first lock, the rain comes: I see a sailboat in the distance and its captain, Johannes, comes close offering to pull me.
I’m so soaking wet that he had pity on me!
I’m happy to accept even if we’ve just 500 metres to go, so I grab a lace and tie it to Clodia, quickly arriving in the Segel Club Undine under the heaviest of rains. Johannes very kindly offers us a beer so we can rest for a while to dry up. Thanks god.
But it’s a short illusion: We need to get moving and the rain is still waiting for us. Bruno and Fine row as hard as they can and at 10 o’clock at night we get to Hanau, topped by a menacing sky. The rain stops just for a couple of hours, the time to have dinner in a Vietnamese restaurant serving Chinese food (we’re prepared to everything to get dry!). I pass a wet night under my “2 seconds tent”, lent to me by Jacopo (I miss you!!!), but I’m so damn tired that I sleep very deeply nonetheless.
In the morning, miraculously, we wake up under a bright and warm sun, that dries our bones and everything that have got drenched the night before.
At 10 o’clock, perfectly on time, comes Britta, the journalist from Segel: She’s beautiful.
Bruno picks up her and Fine’s on the other bank of the Main, and we have a good time. Britta is a good sailor, used to navigate in the Baltic Sea: She must be a Viking too… Soon after goodbying Britta, we welcome the RTL team, super punctual and super professional.
They jump aboard for a nice sail with very little wind, and Clodia has to hang in for a while, embarking up to five people… Daniel, the director interviewer, the cameraman, the sound technician and the two of us: In about an hour we sort it all out. The result is a fantastic report that you may enjoy here.
We leave once again, heading to Aschaffenburg: We face an annoying headwind and a strong current (the heavy rain has swollen the Main, that we’re navigating upstream): It’s so tiring. Realizing that we cannot make it in just one day, we decide to stop for the night in Kahl am Main, mooring in the Lässig Marina.
Not even the time to dock (after taking a wrong turn and getting stuck) and we’re welcomed by a clone of Eddie Vedder, the legendary singer of Pearl Jam, in a pick-up truck. An open smile and very good, self-confident manners: He’s Jörn Lassig.
“Is it real?? London to Istanbul” he asks. “Yes, of course!” we answer, beginning a mutual understanding that will give us one of the best experiences of our journey. Jörn, son of the camping and marina’s owner, has recently started a business specialized in repairing engines and boats, besides providing River Rescue along the Main.
He takes us to his amazing workshop giving us a few spare parts for the temporary small engine used by Serena (the support boat steered by Fine).
We’re still waiting for the electric motor promised by a famous company.
For free!! He doesn’t want any money at all! Fantastic Jörn! We invite him aboard for a beer and late in the evening, despite his busy agenda, he pays us a visit along with his lovely wife Silvia. We all have a good time, sharing many interests.
We’re asked to join them for breakfast the next morning, so we take the chance for a short interview.
Thanks dear friends, you gave us a brief yet intense friendship that warmed our hearts. See you soon!
Setting off to Aschaffenburg, we lose a Musketeer: Fine gets back to Frankfurt by train, to fix her laptop, while Bruno and I are waited by a strong current and a nasty wind.
Hilly landscape, Main wines, wonderful light and lots of struggle.
We reach Aschaffenburg quite late. Dominated by its four-towered castle, it’s a medieval town of rare beauty. Here we can see many rowers, boys unleashed on their canoes who overtake me in a flash: A great river life, rocks and magnificent villas.
It had to be a very wealthy place.
In a parallel, protected canal, take place the Marinas: After more than 20 tough kilometres we can eventually take a rest. While I’m charmed by all the people who stare at me, smiling and greeting, I notice two little girls waving their arms.
I get close and they ask me if they could come aboard: Under the worried look of their friend Steve, I take them around for a few minutes on Clodia. They’re shy and one of them is Turkish, from Istanbul. I hope to have given them a moment of joy and a seed of something different. Their smile and emotion is a much greater gift to me.
In the Aschaffenburg marina we get greeted by a man with a nice smile: I immediately know that we stumbled into one of our usual guardian angels. His name’s Uli Becker.
About him and much more, on sun and rain, pink cliffs, missing ports and newfound friends, accordion on Clodia and unexpected beers, saved castles and magical waters, I’ll tell you in the upcoming post.
It’s a fantastic trip! Gute Reisen!
First of all, I wish to thank Norbert and Lukas from the Cercle Nautique de l’Alsace du Nord, who, on top of granting Clodia free mooring, came to pick us up at the train station. Thank you very much indeed!
Our navigation gets on quietly, mostly by rowing with the occasional upwind sail, for about 61 km up to Speyer, where we meet once again Sandro and his sister, Sara, on their way back from Amsterdam. We stop in a very modern and efficient Marina, although surrounded by a rather disturbing urbanization.
In Speyer we have a great evening with Sandro and Sara, indulging in a culinary escapade in a restaurant called “Porto Vecchio Veneziano” (The Old Venetian Harbour). We’re very tired and hungry after so many kilometers rowed under a blazing sun, so we surrender once more to the consumer society.
And we consume, frugally, but we consume, and paying for it of course. Early in the morning I go for a quick tour of the city of Speyer, that’s quite nice: Its big cathedral (“Kaiserdom”) is listed as World Heritage Site by the Unesco. It houses the tombs of eight kings of Germany, four of which being emperors of the Holy Roman Empire too.
Then I visit a monastery dating 1228, where I find a plaque remembering Edith Stein, religious and philosopher dead in Auschwitz in 1942. Suddenly, a pleasant surprise: The monument to Jakob, a pilgrim of the 14th century who has reached Santiago of Compostela by foot: You can see how light he was travelling! An applause to him: Less is more.
By the river, Mannheim looks huge. Here, in 1868, was stipulated the Convention on the Navigation of the Rhine that still applies. 
Our evening gets by in front of a good beer and under a line of plane trees reminding me of France.
I very much prefer ferries over bridges (such as the mast-chomping ones, specialized on damaging boats led by stupid sailors…).
The next day, 4th of navigation along the Rhine, will take us to Mainz, after a 36 km run. 
Soon after, commodore Harald comes to visit: He was already aware of our journey and we’re quickly invited to the monthly Club meeting, to tell the full story.
The night is rainy but I sleep like a log under my tent. In the morning the rain has gone, although a nasty wind sweeps up. A friend met last night, Winfried, comes to tell us that the museum where a few roman ships (found in the Rhine) are kept, is closed until September. We’re not the first ones rowing up here.
I’m thrilled, the Main is near. Still 2 km on the Rhine then I turn right, raise the two sails and begin an exhilarating, wind-powered flight of 35 km (aside a couple of km through a meander). Just three locks, very easy to pass, slow us down. One of them even has a reduced lock for small boats. What a beauty!
We’re in a very modern suburb of Frankfurt, housing a Marina nestled within an urban plan designed to recover the old docks.
The Sailing Club hosting us is wonderful and today we’ll make a video of the many people navigating along the river.
On the opposite, the uncertainty of travelling forces us to look at the world with new eyes, so other people reflect themselves in what you do and what you feel.
We enjoy a good sleep moored side by side to Rataka, the housboat of Remy and Nadash. At 6 o’clock I neak out to find bread and croissants for Fine, Bruno and me, finding a nice boulangerie in the heart of Vendenheim. At noon, the mayor picks us up for lunch, along with his wife and daughter in law (his son works in Boulogne sur Mer, surveilling the English Channel).
Alsatian cuisine is rich and interesting, too tasty to waste any time in describing it: I have to concentrate on eating like a pig! My dish resembles a bit a Piedmontese recipe, brasato al Barolo, made of savoury meats and French sauces. Fine and Bruno have sauerkrauts and potatoes, with sausages, würstels and well-cooked pork, quite tasty indeed.
In the meantime we’ve been reached by a much appreciated guest, Karl (Kalle) Fine’s dad, just arrived from Hannover to stay a few days with us.
Kalle, nice and strong, has a wonderful job: He works on landscape art, building fabulous and poetical fences and many other objects by using willow timber and other materials that nature has to offer. In the evening we take a walk to Vendenheim, passing maize fields and big cherry trees.
Thanksfully the main traveller of Clodia and the mast lock was wisely built by Roland in such a way to break immediately, avoiding further damages to the structure to the hull in cause of collision with a bridge.
We enter Strasbourg at 2 a’clock of a sticky hot sunday, over 33°C of temperature. We row in front of the European Parliament and its technological show-off: I have to think about all the money that many members of the parliament earn (an Italian member could receive as much as 35.000 EURO per month) while so many people, often more capable, struggle with very low wages. Efficient politicians do exist, but they’re rare birds. I wonder why.
When I get close, she shows me a copy of the DNA (Derniere Nouvelles Alsaciennes), a newspaper with an article written about us and a nice picture of Clodia. Her boat is called Labor and is very big, 55 by 6 mt.: Anne, smiling, kindly invites me to jump aboard for a coffee. How nice, I’m happy to accept. To get on board I have to climb about 3 metres: Much different scales compared with those Peniche on the canals.
There, I discover a wonderful house and meet Toni, Anne’s partner, who welcomes me. I enjoy a nice coffee and an even nicer conversation with my hosts. Anne and Toni’s business is about culture and their peniche is a huge atelier.
The “liveaboard” community is quite large and quickly welcomes me. The little harbour is pleasant and protected, close to the citadel. As always, we’ll get generously offered free mooring for the two days of stay with Clodia.
Helene, a theatrical costumes designer, is a charming woman living aboard by six years: unfortunately her beautiful steel boat, dating 1908, has sunk for unknown reasons.
Our day will be as full as usual: We’re waited by many interviews and fixings on Clodia. Yesterday Bruno took care of the most of it however the bulkead has still to be repaired.
I try to sleep a little in the shadow of a boat, but a woman comes to tell me her interesting story aboard the Glass Boat belonging to Alexandre, master glassmaker. How nice these tales of people that, regardless of age, build a new life. Alexander for instance was a truck driver, but when he turned 50 he decided to change.
Even inside, the heat is terrible and our “political” day gets quite tiring, however still full of energy and passion. The interview is interesting and intense: We discover the environmental strategies of Strasbourg and I get the impression that Ms Buchmann is a truly passionate and dedicated administrator. Please come to Strasbourg to take a look.
Our Alsatian adventure begun in the Vosges: Language, architecture, flavours had changed. However, at this stage I was really convinced to have landed to Germany, but I’m still in France. So what can we say?
That’s Europe and I’m becoming ever more convinced that the borders were drawn by people either crazy or drunk.
So far the waves are keeping low, we face an opposite yet weak wind and the big barges are fast enough (about 20 Km/h) but very open-eyed on us as we’re on them.
We look like a mice in an elephant dance party, but these elephants know how to spin.
We stopped for two days in Saverne, lovely city, where we’ve been invited for a pizza on the holyday-boat of a nice German couple, Volker and Ilka. Their pizza was beautiful such as their hospitality aboard Grønland, a Dutch Tijalk (a flat bottomed boat) that they’ve completely restored. 
The morning after, Bruno takes Volker aboard Clodia for a sail in the basin facing the wonderful 17th century palace, the Chateau of Saverne, whose majesty has earned it the name “Versailles Alsace“.
To reach the city we have to cross as much as 4 waterways in 1 km, a sort of word record!
On the walls we see strange paintings of people looking out of the window, and ground signs telling manholes may be used as dog toilets. These clues lead to a conclusion: French mind-set has never worked very well here. After all the majority of surnames is German and everyone is bilingual, since Alsace was Germany for a long time.
The fist is called Henri Bronner, mayor of Vendenheim and friend of Guy Rougieux. He’s so kind to come to pick us up at 9 o’clock in the morning in Hochfelden, displaying Alsatian punctuality (5 to 7 minutes away from that of Germany, which in turn follows by 5 minutes the Swiss one, unchallenged even by Japanese).
Dr Samir Idir shows to Fine and me this technological marvel that gives back water to the big river, who’s seriously ill and therefore under strict observation by the European Community.
The left-overs of depuration are used to produce natural gas, in such an extent that from next year the plant will be self-sufficient for heat energy and really soon for electricity too (they’re even planning to sell the energy surplus).
Later on, we are introduced to 
We then go to Vendenheim, where we visit the city hall, an enviable Senior Citizens’ Centre and a sport centre built by using the latest and best energy saving technologies. A dream made real.
To get back to Hochfelden, where Clodia is moored, we get a lift from Damien, a policeman from Vendenheim.
Bruno (who stayed to look after the boat) is impatiently waiting for us, because the wind is strong enough to set sails. We get going very quickly, with Bruno at the tiller and Fine rowing, covering 18 km in 5 hours: Just in time to arrive to Vendenheim where we stop for two days, shaded by a wonderful Dutch boat.
It’s the house of Remy, lock-keeper of the first “ecluse” on the Rhine after Strasbourg. Remy and his wife Nadash, a bycicle postwoman, offer us a hot shower and a tasty dinner, where we’re entertained by stories about the lock and the big river. Their daughter Marine even draws a lovely picture of us that you can see below!
We left our story in the outskirts of Nancy: At first glance I really liked this city. I can now confirm and reinforce the enthusiasm for a community that seems very committed in preserving the environment and offering a good lifestyle to all its citizens, beginning from the means of moving.
The network of public transport is well-distributed and the electric tram reaches most of the suburbs. Methane fueled buses and a well managed traffic make of Nancy a very clean and pleasant city. We’re welcomed by Sylvain, who works and studies here. He speaks a good English, however we strive to speak French. 
His hospitality and help have revealed priceless, beginning from 
Thomas also organises events and tours, and the lab in rue des Tiercelins 18, can be freely used by all members to fix their bikes. A good idea worth to be followed.
The next day Paul takes us to meet his uncle Guy Rougieux, president of the syndicate of waters from the Seille and Moselle rivers. Guy has spent many years working on the water-supply system for the villages around Nancy. We follow him in a plateau housing a very interesting network: Here we visit a central where chlorine is added to drinking water by law, following the events of 2001 and the fear for terrorist attacks. 
Guy’s help is precious and will be even more important very soon: We develop a very strong friendship. In the evening we’re invited for dinner in his home in Lanfroincourt, 130 inhabitants, where we also visit La Pepiniere (the plant-nursery) of Etienne, Paul’s dad, and pick the same cherries used to make Paul’s mum’s jam. Paul tells us about the current hard times for quality plant-nurseries in Lorraine, after the invasion of low-cost plants.
The dinner cooked by René, the nice wife of Guy, is special, full of delicious Lorraine specialties such as the Pâté Lorrain and the classic Quiche Lorraine. In the end Guy gives us a Mirabelle Brandy and René some magic cherries.
The morning after, in the Port de Plaisance of Nancy we meet the director, Captain Franck Rosseaux, who tells us about this showpiece harbour and his commitment to protect the environment through initiatives aimed to reduce the waste of water and the leakage of bilge water and greywater (collecting them for free).
In Varangeville, site of the famous salt mines, despite the heavy rain I approach a Peniche showing my best smile and asking for a good coffee shop.
Quite soon, in the usual cozy and warm way of people who live aboard, we get feed with a substantial breakfast and guided for a tour of Saint Nicolas de Port.
Anouk and her husband Dany also makes us dinner and we get overwhelmed by their warmth and friendliness. We have a wonderful time: Thanks Anouk and Dany, you gave us a special day to remember. The next morning the sun pops out and we get moving greeting our hosts with the usual sadness.
She tells us the story of the town of Dombasle and its abandoned harbour, victim of the obtuseness of politics and of the vandals that have wasted a structure that could have been of great help for this area. Here there is a Solvay big industrial plant, who might have limited the long term view of the governants.
After Dombasle, Clodia, Bruno and me enjoy exhilarating sails under a continuous rain followed by moments of sunshine: It’s a very Atlantic looking weather with sudden changes. In Lagarde we sleep in a lovely harbour, passing the evening in conversation about life.
After a great sail helped by 40 km/h windblasts, we reach and pass the lock of Richecourt, who was for many years the highest French lock, from its 15.4 metres of height.
But never say never. The next day two friendly employed from VNF, our notorious guardian angels, after hearing me whining against the refuse coming from Strasbourg headquarter, decide to go to Nederviller by boat. They’ll try to plead the cause of our humble oar’s crusade in the local VNF office: Not an easy task.
When they come back the no becomes a yes, assuming to get towed by an engine boat. Giving that the total distance to be covered is no longer than 6 km, we’re happy to accept this offer: Moreover any other means of transport would have been very hard to arrange and against our philosophy. So little Serena tows us.
After Saint-Louis Arzviller we enter a completely different world: Beech and coniferous forests, red rocks, castles, german architecture, a steep descent to Strasbourg. We’re in the Vosges.
But I’m safe, it’s Guy who carries good news: He’s sold his soul to give us some interesting contacts in Strasbourg, where he has worked for many years and knows lots of people. He already arranged us a meeting with the mayor of a village who will be of great help. Guy is a saint who gave us help and passion. We’re touched, thanks.
Our journey so far has seen 200 locks, 8 tunnels, 13 suspended canals and we’re approaching the milestone of 1000 km, about 1/5th of the total itinerary.
The mood is high and the bones wet. But water is life and local beer is also very tasty. We’re in Alsace, by the way, and wines are excellent too! In short, cheer up to fluids.
There are the wild landscapes of the Marne side-canal, postcard-worthy. Herd of cattle running away at our approach, shaking the earth under their feet. And water, of course. We drink it straight from the canal: It’s potable and transparent down to 4 metres.
There are breakfasts in the midst of the steam rising from the canals, rain-wet nights, burnt days, opposite winds, handshakes from calloused hands, honest and warm hands. Kisses thrown in the air by a Turkish kid that keeps greeting us from the distance, so happy to read that word… Istanbul!
There’s the old hearth of 
Such as Chantal in Treveray, that takes me to join the rest of the crew (I was left behind to update the website, and a long walk was in front of me), and the Mayor of Treveray who helps me to send an important e-mail to the italian radio;
And Jean, an “eclusier” (lock-keeper), a profession that’s quickly disappearing due to the automations required by the cost-cuts. He invites us in his home, offering Champagne, along with his charming wife and his nice daughter that the next day makes us a gift: A postcard depicting this very same lock many years ago;
And yet again Sara and Bertrand in Toul that take us aboard their boat for breakfast, also making us sandwiches for the next day.
The landscape is now hilly: We’ve got up and down more than 110 times, passing 25 locks in just one day. The journey is intense, it’s so difficult to pay justice to all the places in such a short report, however I’ll try to put together a summary of what’s happened in the past week.
In Treveray, we moor under a cherry tree and Josephine jumps over Bruno’s shoulders to pick a few of these tasty fruits (we’re now officially gatherers, although still nomadic at heart!).
But we’re waited by the second long tunnel of our journey, that of Mauvages, just slightly shorter than the Suterrain de Riqueval. This tunnel was built from the 1841 to the 1846: It’s about 4.800 metres long, wet and dark, and equipped with the same system used in Riqueval, an electric towboat. But Captain Jack and his crew are already accustomed to this!
We stop for the night in Void, where Elvis from Vnf gives us a pen. The next morning we have breakfast over a roman bridge with a baguette cooked in a wood-fired oven. Then we get to Toul, fortified city, meeting Jean, Sara and Bertrand in a new, magnificent harbour. Here we visit the wonderful Cathedral: What a chance to show off my long-past architecture study with Bruno and Fine!
We get aboard once again heading to Nancy, sailing over the bridge-canal on the Meuse and rowing under another long tunnel: After 36 km we eventually enter in a real river, the Moselle.
France is still sweet. Despite the Kilometres already travelled, 800 so far, we’re convinced to run too fast, leaving behind so many things and missing opportunities.
Among those, there was a gentleman called Leonardo, coming from a tiny village in Tuscany, Vinci. By chance, he had dedicated great energies and efforts in the study of water and waterways. His water stair starting in Pavia has been left in a totally neglected condition.
I’m also sorry because at every lock passed, we’re at 157 so far, I can see the doors that Leonardo invented five centuries ago, and are so called “vincian”. They’re still working beautifully all around the world.
