I find it difficult to write about 2020. As I type, I am aware that as of today (Nov 19) more than 56-million people have contracted COVID 19 – and 1.4-million of them have died. There is no way not to feel uneasy about how fortunate we are – living our dream life on a barge in France while there is so much pain and suffering around us. As you will read, COVID changed our plans for this summer – but so much less so than it has for others. We are extremely lucky.
Last year (2019), Schengen Rules limited the amount of time we could spend in France (or anywhere in Europe, for that matter). We could stay for three months and then had to leave Europe for three months. We bought Aleau with the intention of cruising on her – not viewing her from Canada via a webcam in France. But that is all we could do for the first six months of this year. And then our luck changed.
Wishing to avoid the difficulties Schengen gave us last year, we decided to apply for a Long-Stay Visa from the French government.
In February, we paid our fee, submitted the required documents – and waited. It didn’t take long for our passports to arrive – with the visa stamped inside. Now we could book our flight to France.
But on March 16, the EU said it was closing its borders to foreigners. Unfortunately, that was weeks before we were to leave. We had to cancel our tickets and wait. We didn’t think we’d be onboard Aleau at all in 2020.
It turned out the EU was impressed with how Canada had handled the COVID 19 pandemic. Canada was one of only 15 countries from around the world whose citizens the EU said could enter – effective July 1. It was time to – again – book our plane tickets. We did so with both joy and apprehension. We were thrilled we would be able to be back onboard our barge – but anxious about flying.
We had been taking great pains in Montreal to avoid getting within a metre anyone. Being on an aircraft would be putting us in close contact with other people for the first time since the pandemic began. Or so we thought. We booked seats on Air Canada in the Premium Economy section. That meant we would have an aisle and a window seat – with no third seat in the middle. There was a bulkhead behind us separating us from the standard Economy section. The galley and exit doors to the front separated us from Business Class. We were an island unto ourselves. There were 21 seats – and only two other couples – spaced at opposite ends and on the opposite side from us. We all wore masks for the entire flight. The service was even worse than what we usually get on Air Canada. But this time we were grateful. The (masked and gowned) flight attendant told us this would be the first and last time she would see us. She would not be coming around until we got to Paris. She practically threw a god-awful sandwich and a couple of bottles of water at each of us and disappeared. It was the first time I actually appreciated a lack of service from Air Canada. Much to my surprise, we felt safer on the flight than we had since COVID first made its appearance.
We landed in Paris on July 16. While we usually take two RER trains from CDG to the Gare de Lyon, a TGV to Dijon, and a commuter train from there to Auxonne, we decided that was too risky – both to us and to our fellow travellers. We picked up a rental car at the airport and drove here. We were so fatigued, we had to pull into a rest stop on the autoroute and sleep for an hour. But we made it. Masked, we picked up two weeks worth of groceries and then self-quarantined onboard. Two weeks on a comfortable boat in France is not a hardship. We could still stand in the wheelhouse and chat with our neighbours as they passed by on the pontoon. If we wanted to, we probably could have even headed out for a cruise – really practicing social distancing. But there was so much to do onboard (ie. cleaning – dewinterizing, etc.) that we stayed put.