I've visited Paris a few times, the last being long, long ago. So when the opportunity rose to visit again and catch up with the Old Duck, and with a Eurostar ticket in my hot little hand, off I went. Apart from eating lots of croissants, cheese and drinking wine, I didn't have many must-do's on my list. The catacombs which I've never been to are currently closed, so one thing I wanted to do was a cruise on the Seine along the Canal Saint-Martin.
We set off an a chilly, rainy day to catch the ferry. How on earth is it that the Duck and I found ourselves once again on a boat after our recent near death experience? After assessing the situation, we determined that the risk was minimal and it was safe to board and found ourselves on a large boat with very few people. Plenty of space to move around and not too far from the shore should we need to abandon ship. Sick bags were not required.
Ship ahoy and off we went with some excellent commentary from our guide. I think I have a much deeper appreciation of guides these days and he was great. Lots of info as we glided along the river watching the world go by. We then reached the entrance to the Canal Saint-Martin and prepared to enter the 4.6 km canal with its 9 operating locks.
And then we came to the bit I was most looking forward to, the underground bit, or as it should be called, the Secret Underground Duck Kingdom of the Canal Saint‑Martin. There are apparently a lot of ducks. We did see many, but maybe some were hiding due to the chilly morning. Most people think the Canal Saint‑Martin goes underground because of “19th‑century urban planning.” No. It goes underground because that’s where the ducks run their secret empire.
Roughly 2km of the canal disappear beneath Paris and that entire stretch is basically the Duck Metro Line 1, complete with tiny quack‑announcements and suspiciously efficient water‑traffic. Down there, we saw the ducks hold important meetings in vaulted tunnels, discussing matters like:
• Bread Distribution Logistics
• Pigeon Diplomacy
• Why Humans Keep Dropping Croissants Near the Surface Entrances
• The Annual “Most Dramatic Splash” Competition
As we floated serenely along, we saw the Temple Tunnel where the intellectual ducks debate philosophy, the Richard‑Lenoir Tunnel is for ducks who are late and swimming very fast. And the Bastille Tunnel? That’s the nightlife district. Glow‑in‑the‑dark algae. Very exclusive. As we drift pass, the ducks collectively freeze like,
“Oh no, surface dwellers. Act natural” and they pretend to be normal ducks going about normal duck stuff.
Once we pass, we see them resuming their underwater parliament.
Going through the locks is all part of the fun. There is no rushing the process - just patience as they fill and let us through. Once out into the open air, the bridges over the canal are also very pretty. Each one looks like it’s posing for a postcard, trying to out‑Paris the others. You half expect one to whisper, “Take my picture, I’m feeling très photogénique today.” And we obliged, taking many pictures of the bridges as we passed underneath.
The canal is drained and cleaned every 10–15 years, and I can only imagine what treasures/body parts are discovered among the hundreds of tons of junk that lie in a watery grave.
It was fun. I liked it and well done to the guide - top marks.
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