In-Seine journey to Paris

Lagny-sur-Marne to Paris

17 km

5 locks

1 tunnels

4 hours

It didn’t take long to cruise from Lagny to Paris, as the river was doing most of the work for us.

As we entered the circumference of Paris, we cast our minds back to when we were children on our way to Blackpool with our families playing the ‘first to spot the Tower’ game. Tracy won and spotted the Eiffel Tower first on the horizon, but it gave us both a thrill.

Can you spot the Tower?

 Working boats lined the banks either side, being loaded or unloaded with all manner of material. At one point there was a tramp sat beside a makeshift shelter enjoying the sun, I gave him a wave and his response could not have been more enthusiastic, waving frantically back he even toasted us with his glass of vino mucho collapso.

Working and other unusual boats we saw on our approach to Paris

Local floating police service

A floating dry dock

This lifted our spirits even higher as we struggled to take in all the architecture. Ornate bridge after ornate bridge, stretching across the Seine, row after row, as far as the eye could see.

So engrossed were we in shouting at each other “there’s Notre Dame” that we nearly missed the opening for Port L’Arsenal. There was a small archway forming a small passage approximately 30 feet long with a lock at the end of it. 

Notre Dame on the horizon

The entrance to Port L'Arsenal

 We had been trying to get the port on VHF 9 from the previous lock (as we had been instructed) but without luck.  Desperately, we tried again while trying to maintain our position on the gushing waters.  With relief we got an answer back from the capitainerie “Ten minutes and I will have the lock open for you”.

Stopping and waiting for the lock to open came as yet another challenge. The Seine looked like a pan of water on simmer. Without the aid of bow thrusters and strong winds pounding from all sides, Genie’s Wish danced about like a penguin on ice. On top of all this, the fire service, who appear to have a river operation in Paris, were whizzing around us in spirals. I just managed to get the bow end into the entrance for the lock and we were able to ride it out.

The Paris fire service buzzing around us while we were waiting for the lock

Entering the lock at last

The port was full up with everyone bedded in for the winter. We had phoned a couple of days previously and initially they had said no but sensing our disappointment had reluctantly agreed to allow us to stay for two nights.  For €35 a night we were placed on the outside of a large peniche owned by a lovely couple, Brett from New Zealand and Anne who was English.  They helped us tie up and assured us they didn’t mind us and the dog tramping over their beautiful boat to get access. 

We were really grateful to them and the port but getting on and off with a wriggly Oddjob was a highly skilled operation, commanding high levels of expertise and fitness which neither of us knew we had.

Our mooring on the outside of Brett and Ann's boat

Pictures of Port L'Arsenal before the rain set in

After tying up, we decided to go for a long walk and were surprised by the growth in poverty since our last visit some ten years back. There were makeshift shelters and people wrapped in blankets on almost every street. One chap was lay down in the middle of a very busy junction, over a warm air outlet with the risk of being trampled under foot, but who could blame him? Even the steps in the port sheltered one poor soul.

It rained all the next day. We have both visited Paris a number of times and wanted to do something other than visiting the usual attractions so we decided to have a look around Chinatown as we had heard that it was an interesting place to visit. Through the driving rain we sloshed but although we did find a couple of restaurants and a supermarket we couldn’t find a full blown ‘Chinatown’ as we would know it.  Soaked to the skin and getting increasingly grumpy we decided to head back.

Fantastic game of ping pong with an old chap I met

There was even a table football in the same park

Tracy and I both absolutely love Indian food and this is probably the one thing (apart from friends and family) that we are missing. We had spotted a couple of Indian restaurants whilst traipsing around earlier and promised ourselves that we would return later that night for a slap up meal.

Brett and Anne invited us to join them aboard their absolutely gorgeous 100 year old peniche and we suggested they join us for our much anticipated slap up meal later in the evening.

Coincidently, Anne was the lady I had met at Chauny who told me what the nuclear fall out siren was. It was a pleasure to meet her once more. They were interesting company and had travelled and lived in countries you only dream about.  Anne could speak a multitude of languages including Nepalese and told us some very funny stories about their adventures.

After guzzling a bottle of wine we made our way into the Parisian night air to find nourishment. Brett made it clear that he wasn’t going to walk far on account of a back injury. We all followed him to a restaurant contained within the harbor, but to our disappointment it was closed.

Noticing a bistro open a few doors away we all piled in. For €120, Anne and I had the coq-au-vin and Brett and Tracy had the chicken caesar salad. To say we were disappointed would be an understatement. There was a chicken leg and two potatoes each for myself and Anne and a sparse chicken salad laced with a pungent mayonnaise for Tracy and Brett. We had a bottle of red wine between us, brought to the table already opened (I hate that).

On top of a very disappointing meal, we’ve had to come to terms with the devastating realisation that it would now be some time before we can satisfy our Indian restaurant craving, as out in the sticks, all the fingers point back to Paris. Gutted.

Some photos from our evening stroll

Looking closely at the tables, the guy on the right hasn't left a tip

We even met a woolly mammoth wandering around

Cycling very popular here, only one bike left

The automated late night shop

The next day, Brett pointed out that the lock was now open for us and we left.       

Our main purpose for visiting Paris was to fulfill the dying wish of Tracy’s mum, Wendy, who had asked for her ashes to be scattered in the Seine.

We were going to turn right on exiting the lock and cruise past Notre Dame and the Eiffel tower before turning around and making our way south.

The lock opened and like a cork from a bottle we were plunged back into the fast flowing waters of the Seine. Our first obstacle was the fire services’ frogmen who were swimming across the shipping lanes. After managing to get past them without mangling any of them in our prop, our next challenge lay ahead. 

The fire services' frogmen swimming across our path on the Seine

The bridge showed a red light that meant there was no entry. We tried to maintain our position whilst avoiding the huge commercial boats and passenger ferries but the current had other ideas.  Like a plane waiting to land and circling around the airport, we decided that this would be the best option for us. 

We circled around half a dozen times and thirty minutes later the red light was still showing.  Reluctantly, we made the decision that we were going no further down river on the Seine and turned around for one last time and continued upstream.

The red light for bridge entry refused to change for us

We said our last goodbyes to Wendy and sprinkled her ashes as we made our very slow way against the current.

Moorings at Port L’Arsenal, Paris

Cost: €35 per night.

Facilities: Electricity, water (both included in price), showers, launderette, WIFI

Location: Right in the centre of Paris on the Canal St Martin just a lock up from the Seine. Bastille Metro a two minute walk away.