In the second part of his French canals odyssey, Howard Walker cruises up the lazy River Seine and explores the suburbs of Paris
It’s insane. There’s barely a straight stretch of water along the entire route. Hand a felt tip and sheet of paper to a sugared-up two-year-old and the resulting squiggle would be a perfect representation of the path of the Seine.
As the Cessna flies, it’s a straight-shot 90 miles. By boat, it’s a somewhat more circuitous 226 miles.
An hour or so later, we’d cruise right by it – again – as the river wandered lazily back on itself.
But this was anything but a hardship. No whines of ‘are we there yet’ or ‘can’t we go faster?’ This is river cruising at its finest.
Majestic cliffs of bleached-white chalk topped by medieval castles, stately châteaux round every bend, and ancient riverside towns and villages beckoning you in for baguettes and Brie.
I know, we’ve all taken Bateaux-Mouches trip boats with 2,000 of our very closest friends. But trust me, there’s nothing like seeing the City of Love from the deck of your own boat.