General Witterings -
Rosy at Conde

Conde sur Marne, which is where we are now moored, is (as its name suggests) built on the banks of the River Marne - or, more precisely, on a hillock beside the River Marne.

Ever since entering the valley of the River Marne, I have had problems keeping the inside of Rosy clean.  That is not wholly true - I ALWAYS have a problem keeping the inside of Rosy clean.  However, the particular, current Marne-related problem is the mud that coats the valley floor.  Not that I want to make too much of a fuss about Marne mud.  The mud in Flanders and in the valley of the Somme is also pernicious stuff, and brought similar miseries to the Western Front armies in WW1.

Some mud is slip-slidey - the Marne mud certainly is.

Some mud sucks at the feet, and hangs onto any foot set in it - the Marne mud that I've encountered isn't like that, but then it hasn't been too deep.

The Marne mud that we've encountered is of the laminated variety.  TITS (That Is To Say) when one steps in-/on- to it, a thin layer (or 'laminate') adheres to the sole of the foot/shoe/trainer/boot/carpet slipper (depending upon ones proclivities).  Then, at each step, an additional layer (or 'laminate') adheres to the layer (or 'laminate') that is already there.  Hence, at each step, one slowly rises up in the world.  There are two major downsides to this state of affairs.  The first is that each foot gets heavier and heavier with each step, and the second is that eventually one is walking on what feels like stilts until, eventually, one falls over.  Into the mud.

Conde sur Marne has a most remarkable church clock.  At a quarter past the hour it goes 'ding-dong', at half past it goes 'ding-dong ding-dong' and a quarter to 'ding-dong ding-dong ding-dong' and, on the hour 'ding-dong ding-dong ding-dong ding-dong' plus some healthy healthy 'dings' to show what hour it is.  A remarkable feature of life here is that after only two or three weeks, the only times I hear it are between when I wake up in the morning (between 0715 and 0745) and 0800 when I get up.  The rest of the time, I hardly ever hear it.

There are still the remains here of a very clever bit of canal engineering.

Conde sur Marne is at a canal T-junction, where the Canal de l'Aisne à Marne leaves the Canal Lateral de Marne and climbs up a flight of eight locks which raise it some 20 metres to the summit level and the 2.3 km Billy Tunnel.

As originally built, the Canal de l'Aisne a Marne was provided with water by a cunning system.

A non-navigable, level canal was cut that took water directly out of the Marne a few kilometres above Conde sur Marne and terminated at Conde sur Marne.  Over this distance, the Marne has fallen a few metres, hence the canal is now a few metres above the level of the Marne.  This head of water was used to drive a turbine pump that pumped water from the Marne up to an aqueduct built at the same level as the summit level of the Canal de l'Aisne à Marne.  The aqueduct looks a bit strange - it rears up, abruptly, in the middle of a field before it marches off across country to its rendezvous with the summit level.

The aqueduct is still in use, but, sadly, the environmentally friendly system of water power is no longer used.  A few years ago, EDF (Electricity de France) offered to supply that canal company with electricity at an extremely low price, so that the pumps are now driven by electricity.

This is likely to be the last wittering before Christmas and the New Year.  On Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve, at precisely midnight GMT, I'll be raising a cheering glass to all friends everywhere, and hoping 2004 will bring the world a bit less hunger, disease and war, and a bit more tender loving care.  Please join me.

Toodle pip!!

Bill