Meandering Down The River? I Think Not.

Upon our return to Europe, a reunion with our German BFFs Gaby and Nicola was obviously in order.  It was birthday season, after all! (More on that later).

When I heard that my mother, sister, Gaby, Nicola and I were going to rent a houseboat in France, I thought: Sweet! We will float down a river and I can relax on deck and read - plus get an incredible tan! (side note: I got an incredible foot tan).

Nope.  Let me tell you. I was not properly informed of the amount of physical labor it takes to maneuver a boat for 7 days. 

Canals in France were built using locks.  And if you want to navigate said canals, one must jump off the moving boat upon entering the lock, climb up a ladder, and tie up the boat until the water has raised/lowered the boat.  Then untie the boat, push open the gates and leap back onto the boat.  This is quite a laborious process.  Lucky for us, we passed through no fewer than 73 locks during our trip.  

That's right: 73 locks. I'm kind of a lock master now. 

 Did we have to go through a extensive training on driving, docking and controlling an expensive boat?  Don't be dumb! After about 15 minutes of pointing and rattling off directions in French, these lovely gents waved us off with their stamp of approval.

In their defense, it is pretty impossible to tell 5 women what to do for more than 15 minutes. 

My mother named us "Les Femmes Epoustouflantes", meaning bright, strong women.  Which fit, because we tended to have plenty of chiefs and not enough Indians (if you know what I mean...).

None of the other boats knew what to do with these 5 epoustouflantes. 

What nationality were these women?  Clearly not French, though that was the language spoken. 

Why are they drinking so much wine?

And where is the man to captain the boat?

With too many memories to count, I will leave you with a visual of our week as Les Femmes Epoustouflantes.