Hal Jespersen’s European Barge Trip, May 2026 [Part 3]

These are my (Hal’s) notes on my trip from Amsterdam to Paris on the luxury canal barge Aurora, arranged through the Hotels Afloat agency. Nancy and I were originally scheduled to take this trip together, but she decided to send me alone while she dealt with some lingering health issues at home. My companions are our long-time travel friends from Cincinnati, Ray and Pat.

Since this is a lengthy report with lots of photos (iPhone 17 Pro Max), I have broken it into four parts:

Sunday, May 17 — Cambrai

A dreary morning with rain in the afternoon. We left Valenciennes at 8. Here in France the Scheldt River is now called L’Escaut. Our first lock was at 9 near Maing, a rise of 15 feet. By this point I had lost interest in taking photographs of the locks, which all look similar, although this one stood out for its extreme speed—faster than the French army retreating in 1940. At 10 we reached another lock at Denain, about 21 feet. After passing by Bouchain and transiting another lock, we left the river and turned west into the Canal de la Sensée. We tied up in Arleux, the starting point for the famous Canal du Nord. This man-made waterway has nineteen locks in front of us, so I won’t be documenting them. A strong downpour arrived during lunch (a superb lamb satay).

André drove us in the direction of Cambrai while the boat proceeded south on the Canal du Nord. I had visited WWI places in this area in 2023 and there was some discussion of visiting the tank museum there, but I had been before and the others weren’t tank buffs. Instead, I gave my friends a quick briefing about the Battle of Cambrai, the first major tank battle, fought in November 1917.

We drove about 45 minutes to Le Cateau-Cambrésis, a small town southeast of Cambrai that was Henri Matisse’s birthplace, to visit the museum bearing his name. The collection runs to over 170 works, and the presentation does a good job of explaining the range of printmaking techniques Matisse used—etching, lithography, monotyping, intaglio, woodcuts, and lino-cutting. Since I have a Matisse exposition coming up in Paris next week, I didn’t photograph heavily, but several pieces caught my interest.

Portrait of Marguerite (1906) is a Fauvist likeness of his daughter, flat in treatment and vivid in palette. The two 1929 odalisque works—Odalisque, Brazier and Bowl of Fruit and Upside Down Nude with Brazier—show his characteristic North African interior settings. The 1950 Woman with a Lute tapestry rounds out the range of media on display. One curiosity: the ceiling of one gallery bears a series of portraits Matisse drew using a two-meter bamboo pole, letting the length of the instrument stand in for a conventional brush.

Beyond the Matisse holdings, the museum was expanded by two significant donations. Auguste Herbin—a local artist who turned to abstract geometric painting—left 65 works to the city in 1956. A later donation, the Tériade collection, brought in works by Picasso, Chagall, Léger, Miró, Giacometti, and Rouault, including a dining room decorated by Matisse and Giacometti together.

We drove back to meet Aurora emerging from a lock very close to Havrincourt Wood, where the British tanks assembled before the Battle of Cambrai. Steve had disassembled his cockpit to accommodate the lower bridges on the canal, and we felt considerable sympathy for him piloting while standing in the cold rain. We didn’t visit the town of Cambrai itself, which boasts of being the home of the famous confectionery, the Bêtise de Cambrai. Bêtise means nonsense or mistake, and legend goes that these sweets (mint candies) were invented by accident. We sampled some on board and I wasn’t taken by them.

Monday, May 18 — Canal du Nord

We woke to lovely but cold weather and got underway to navigate through the Vermandois Hills of Picardy, department of the Somme. The Canal du Nord was started in 1908, but WWI interrupted the work. The unfinished dry canal was a major obstacle between the armies. A significant battle was fought by the Canadians across the canal in September 1918. The waterway opened to the public in 1965. It runs 95 kilometers, connecting the Canal latéral à l’Oise in the south to the Sensée Canal in the north.

We sailed through the Tunnel de Ruyaulcourt, 4.35 km (2.7 miles), which was a unique, slightly creepy experience for me. It’s quite narrow except for a passing lane in the middle, allowing careful two-way traffic. We bumped against the wall a few times, so it’s good we were sailing pretty slowly. A parade of locks soon followed, all very narrow and quick-draining, about 6 m down each time. After Péronne, a section of the 19th-century Canal de la Somme is integrated into the Canal du Nord.

Intermittent rains started after lunch, and we continued on without a shore excursion. Steve had asked André to remain on board to help navigate the strenuous conditions of today’s weather and lock passages. As André spent time arranging a taxi back to where he’d left the van, we sailed steadily southward. Our original itinerary called for a visit to Amiens and its impressive cathedral, but that didn’t happen. (Karina emphasized to us that the website itinerary said it was subject to change due to local conditions, and that is the case today.) Instead, it was a lazy day of reading in the lounge and watching the scenery pass by the window.

At 6 p.m., we sailed through another tunnel near Libermont, shorter than 1 km. We eventually docked near Sermaize, about 5 miles north of Noyon. The crew, worn down by unseasonable weather, has been pushing us southward as quickly as possible in search of better conditions—we’re now nearly a day ahead of schedule. The silver lining: weather reports promise excellent conditions, perhaps even unseasonably warm, starting Wednesday.

Tuesday, May 19 — Compiègne

Aurora departed at 9. Our original itinerary placed us in Péronne overnight, and today we were to have visited the Museum of the Great War there, but the weather jinxed that plan. Instead, we continued through the Oise River Valley to Compiègne a day early, aiming to find decent weather. Just before Compiègne, the Canal du Nord merged into the Oise River, which had been meandering roughly parallel to us for miles. This is where we stalled for well over an hour while French lock tenders went out for lunch. The good news is that we no longer have a height restriction, so Steve reassembled his cockpit enclosure and is protected from future rain. We passed the confluence of the Aisne River right outside town.

We docked about 3 in downtown Compiègne, and we drove 4 miles to the Mémorial de l’Armistice (Glade of the Armistice). The memorial commemorates the signing of the World War I armistice on November 11, 1918, in Marshal Foch’s railway carriage, as well as the armistice signed in June 1940 when France capitulated to Hitler. The grounds preserve the historical setting and include exhibits that trace both the conditions leading to the armistice and the subsequent interwar period that led to World War II and the fall of France. I visited here in 2023, but the excellent back-room museum was unfamiliar, so it must be a recent addition or significant upgrade. The exhibits covering both World Wars are very good, trilingual, and include some nice tank models. Karina bought me a cool map of World War I sites as a gift. I am reusing some of my 2023 photos below (marked with *) because the weather was better.

The main square is a cute little town center, inviting even in a light rain. Église catholique Saint-Jacques à Compiègne is impressive, with considerable architectural presence and exterior detail. La Brasserie Parisienne has an art deco stained glass ceiling worth seeing. The Mairie de Compiègne (Town Hall) is beautiful—a solid example of civic architecture with good proportions and classical elements. We were not there at an appropriate time, but it looks like there are elaborate figures that perform as part of the hourly clock function. A statue of Joan of Arc stands in town; she was captured here in 1430 and held prisoner until her extradition to the English and subsequent trial and burning at the stake. There is also an “Original French Tacos” shop, which amused and intrigued me in equal measure.

Wednesday, May 20 — Creil and Senlis

Sunshine this morning! We sailed at 8, destination Creil-sur-Oise, about 15 miles downstream. At 11:30 we passed through Pont-Saint-Maxence, a picturesque village whose medieval bridge gives it its name. We docked in downtown Creil (CRAY-yeh). After lunch we drove to the nearby town of Senlis (SAHN-lease), which centers on its medieval cathedral and ramparts.

The Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Senlis began construction around 1151. Its western portal, depicting the Coronation of the Virgin Mary, is a masterpiece of 12th-century Gothic sculpture. In 1504, lightning struck the cathedral and destroyed much of its framework, but Louis XII and Francis I funded reconstruction, raising the upper portions by six meters and enriching the side façades with flamboyant decoration. The work continued until 1560. The cathedral’s 78-meter south tower, completed in the early 13th century, remains one of France’s tallest medieval spires. Like many cathedrals during the Revolution, Senlis’s cathedral lost its sculptural decoration, though much has since been repaired. Inside, we found a comparative exhibit displaying the architectural features of seven Picardy cathedrals—Senlis, Laon, Saint-Quentin, Soissons, Beauvais, Amiens, and Noyon—showing their rose windows, façades, and vault systems.

Housed in the former episcopal palace next to the cathedral, the Musée d’Art et d’Archéologie contains both archaeology and paintings. The basement, built against the 3rd-century Gallo-Roman defensive wall, holds a collection of structures and artifacts from a healing temple excavated in the Halatte forest. The upper floors display paintings from the 17th through 20th centuries, with particular emphasis on two artists connected to Senlis: Thomas Couture and Séraphine Louis, the latter revered because she was a self-taught housekeeper who excelled despite difficulties.

I spent time with several paintings that caught my attention—Fernand Pelez’s L’Asphyxiée from 1886, a stark naturalistic work showing a woman who died of asphyxiation from a faulty stove; Séraphine Louis’s L’Arbre de Paradis, painted between 1929 and 1930, a large canvas in brilliant colors depicting a tree with intricate botanical forms in the naïve tradition; and Paul Hémery’s Horizon perdu, which fools the eye by using pieces of cauliflower to appear to be a nuclear mushroom cloud. The museum’s collection also includes earlier works by Champaigne and Giordano, many originally from the cathedral. After the museum, we had about an hour to wander the town’s cobblestoned streets. We settled at a pub for beers before driving back to the boat.

Thursday, May 21 — L’Isle Adam and Chantilly

This morning, we were greeted by a low-hanging fog. Steve informed me that sailing in this weather was not possible, but by 9 a.m., the fog lifted, revealing stunning conditions. For the first time in ten days, some of the plastic windows from the boat’s outdoor terrace area were rolled open. It’s remarkable how the experience changes when you can sit in front and enjoy a panoramic view of the river ahead on a sunny day with only a gentle breeze. We could also go up on the roof where a few chairs were available. We sailed through three locks to L’Isle Adam, a popular weekend getaway for many Parisians. It’s a very beautiful suburb with obvious money applied to local houses, public spaces, and pleasure craft.

After lunch we drove forty minutes to the Château de Chantilly, a royal residence with roots extending back to the sixteenth century when the Montmorency family held the estate. It passed through various hands over subsequent centuries, notably to the Condé family in the seventeenth century, who substantially enlarged and embellished it. The French Revolution brought near destruction—much of the original structure and many collections were lost during the upheaval. The 19th century saw substantial rebuilding under new ownership, including the Duke of Aumale, who restored and expanded the château and established its collections as they exist today. The Second World War brought further complications: the château was occupied by German forces during the invasion of France and sustained some damage during the subsequent liberation, though the main buildings were largely spared the worst of the conflict. The postwar period saw extensive restoration efforts that have continued into the present day.

The audio guide tour visited a number of elaborately decorated rooms. The so-called Monkey Room was particularly distinctive—its walls and furnishings were adorned with painted and gilded representations of monkeys engaged in various human activities, which reflected the 18th-century fascination with exotic animals, the Orient, and satirical anthropomorphism. The library was stupendous. The Painting Gallery held some eight hundred forty works, so naturally only a fraction received my close attention.

Three paintings warranted photographs. Nicolas Poussin’s Le Massacre des Innocents presented his characteristic treatment of biblical tragedy with classical rigor. François Gérard’s Les Trois Âges (The Three Ages) offered a more sentimental, Romantic interpretation of the passage of time. Raphael’s Three Graces provided a counterpoint in its Renaissance clarity and restraint.

The Grandes Écuries de Chantilly (Great Stables) occupied a separate complex of monumental proportions, the largest in Europe, built in the 18th century to house the royal horses and reflecting the aristocratic passion for equestrian pursuits. The stables themselves have been converted into the Living Museum of the Horse, dedicated to horses and horsemanship across history and cultures. A series of animated slides traced the evolution of the horse in human society, while exhibits displayed historical tack, video documentation of saddle-making techniques, accounts of light cavalry tactics introduced by Muslim armies, and opportunities for visitors to sit in a variety of popular saddles. Additional sections covered hunting with hounds, horse racing, polo, and a collection of carriages that conveyed aristocratic pomp and splendor.

I arrived at the stables just as a two-thirty horse show was concluding, which meant the grounds were more crowded than even the main château. I had hoped to video portions of the show for Nancy, but no tickets were available. Instead, I walked through the immense forested grounds of the château, which were quite tranquil away from the main buildings. A lake offered rental rowboats, and I covered a couple of kilometers on foot to locate an enclosure housing kangaroos and peacocks for reasons I could not determine. The kangaroos were quite small and showed no interest in visitors, which made the effort somewhat perfunctory, though I did accumulate a respectable number of steps.

The château grounds also offered a small road train that made hourly trips to the distant enclosure, and you can also rent bicycles and golf carts, but I opted for the exercise instead. After three hours in the gardens and outbuildings, all of us returned somewhat sweaty and satisfied—the first truly good weather we have experienced on the trip.

Friday, May 22 — Bougival and Auvers-sur-Oise

We were underway at 7:30 in beautiful weather. Passing Auvers-sur-Oise, which we would visit later by van, we reached the confluence of the Oise and the Seine at Conflans-Sainte-Honorine, where we docked at 11. It was pleasant to be out on deck in the sunshine watching Karina accomplish the tie-up. Dozens of boats clustered here, along with a few floating dry docks, bore witness to what Steve described as a former haven for retired bargees. Families had once lived aboard hundreds of them, but the government induced the residents to relocate to permanent land-based dwellings. The Seine proved to be a far more substantial river, with considerably more activity than any we had traversed.

After an hour of crew shore duties, we departed Conflans and headed upriver past Cormeilles-en-Parisis, which the crew described as hosting a massive construction project that had been a cement block factory just five years prior. Steve noted they had incorporated many architectural styles, though he later mentioned some elements were built for a movie set and then removed. The dock bore a banner with the name “Port Seine Parisii” and featured guide piles indicating readiness for extremely high river flooding.

Lunch was al fresco on the terrace for the first time—a paella served in a giant pan. After a single lock, we docked in Bougival at 3, a fashionable suburb of Paris that had emerged as a center of Impressionist activity during the nineteenth century. The town’s proximity to the Seine and its picturesque setting had attracted artists including Renoir and Monet, who found inspiration in its landscape and riverside character.

We drove about an hour to Auvers-sur-Oise, the small village northwest of Paris where artists gathered and Van Gogh spent his final weeks. The Mairie (town hall), subject of his painting La Mairie d’Auvers-sur-Oise le 14 juillet, matched the canvas quite closely. We had drinks at the Auberge Ravoux, where Vincent resided and dined, then were led on a brief tour of the La Maison de Van Gogh museum. In his seventy days at Auvers, Vincent painted seventy-four works. We visited the tiny bedroom where he died, a room that has never been rented out since—superstition having preserved it—and I found a photograph of it online since photographs are currently not permitted inside.

We walked to the site of his last painting, Tree Roots, then to the Church of Auvers (L’Église d’Auvers), the subject of one of his most famous works. From there, a long hill climb took us to the wheat fields where he painted and to the cemetery, where the graves of Vincent and brother Theo, covered in ivy, lie next to one another.

The day had been quite warm, and we were sweaty by the time we returned to Bougival about ninety minutes behind our typical daily schedule.

Go to Part 4.