Valerie Poore's Blog

Close encounters of a social kind

 One of the best parts about our faring adventures is the encounters we have with other people connected to the waterways. Our recent holiday was just a short two weeks and the distance we travelled barely amounted to 100 km, but we had the loveliest time and met some incredibly nice folk, which made our trip extra special.

At the end of my last post, we’d spent a night in the town of Deinze at the point where the Leie river is incorporated into a major commercial canal leading to Lille. Because of a yacht club event that was due to occupy the town quayside, we had to leave on Saturday morning, but instead of continuing onto the broad canal, we turned back and found ourselves a perfect place to pass the weekend. 

Our spot was an unofficial mooring but there were two perfectly placed wooden poles set into an equally perfect wooden siding. The bank was easily accessible and it offered us shade and great walks for Zoe. Even better, we had it all to ourselves.

A perfect, peaceful mooring

Good, easy walking along the cycle and towpath
The rainy view from our window

As it happened, it was a timely find because Saturday turned rainy, but once the skies had cleared in the afternoon, we received a visit from across the water. As the rain dripped down, I’d been watching a young man and a little boy busy working in the garden of the bankside house opposite our mooring. They’d been busy feeding a bonfire and doing other chores on their pontoon on which a bright red canoe was placed.

Imagine our surprise then, when a tap on the Hennie H’s hull alerted me and looking outside, I saw the red canoe alongside with father and son on board.

“Excuse me,” the young dad said. “My son has been asking me if he could come and see your boat. Would it be alright if he came on board to have a look?”

“Yes, of course,” I said, smiling down at the small, earnest face of the child. He looked so serious sitting in the canoe with his vivid orange lifejacket. 

They climbed up on deck, at which point Koos came out to chat to the dad, who introduced himself as Waldo, while I took young Aster inside. He sat himself on the sofa and proceeded to pat Zoe, who, quite conveniently, adores children. 

Aster told me he was five and would be six in December and that when he was grown up, he’d like to have a boat like ours. I was struck by this child’s awareness and maturity as he asked some really thoughtful questions. The two of them spent a good half hour on board telling us about their home and life before climbing down into their canoe and rowing back across the river. Meeting them was an unexpected pleasure and I think their visit will remain a special memory for both Koos and me.

Another pleasant encounter was with the bridge keeper downstream at Astene where we returned after the weekend. To backtrack, when we were in Deinze, we’d moored next to an old Dutch tjalk that was clearly fit for living aboard but didn't seem to be occupied. I’d noticed the name of the owner was Luc, but other than that thought no more of it except what a nice space this small tjalk had for accommodation.

The bridge keeper came over to chat while I was doing a little scraping and painting and told me he too had an old boat that needed painting. It quickly transpired he was the Luc of the tjalk in Deinze and I was fascinated to learn from him that his barge was a very early conversion. It was built in 1910 and converted to accommodate passengers in 1920, so it was hardly ever used for freight, which makes it quite a rarity. I wish I’d taken a photo of it now. Again, meeting Luc was a pleasure and I realised anew how we always seem to come across such warm, interesting people when we’re faring.

We are now back home and I can truthfully say we’ve had one of the most enjoyable and relaxed holidays since – well – last year’s trip through Belgium. From Astene, we meandered our way slowly back downstream, spending another three nights on the Leie and having some lovely rural walks before staying one more night in Gent and arriving back in Sas last Friday afternoon.

Now, it’s a matter of clearing up and sorting things out before going down to France again for a quick visit, but I'm always a little sad when we come to the end of our faring.

Till next time, here are a few more photos for those who haven’t already seen them (again in reverse order). Have a great week allemaal!

The Henni H fares forth again

So here we are in the latter part of September enjoying our first real faring of the year; I, for one, am revelling in it despite the changeable weather. 

There’s something very special about being on the waterways just out of the season. There’s still plenty of boat life and folk with small yachts or cruisers are still enjoying their watery playgrounds, but the frenetic sense of the rush of the holiday period is over. The kids are back at school and most people below retirement age are back at work.
The commercial activity, however, carries on regardless and for this I am especially grateful as we’d otherwise be going nowhere. Why? Well, most of the canals in Flanders, which is on our route to anywhere, have major restrictions in place for pleasure craft, on account of the drought. In fact, no locks on the smaller, non-commercial waterways are being serviced in Flanders during September until the 26th, the result being that we can only go through locks used by commercial barges, and even then, only when there is a barge that needs an opening, a factor that can result in long delays for the holiday or liveaboard boater.
Koos and I knew we had two weeks beginning last Sunday, the 14th. Other commitments dictated we couldn’t leave earlier or return later, so our disappointment in learning about the restrictions was keen as we’d planned to do a route we’ve tried to complete twice before and failed due again to water level issues or out-of-service locks. But shrugging off setbacks is something we’re used to so we revised our plan and decided to return to the much-loved Canal de Roubaix. 
That was until we learned that the lock we thought we could go through in the middle of Gent was closed on Monday, a mistake on my part for having a senior moment and thinking last Sunday was the 13th and not the 14th. We could have passed through it on Sunday had we got there before 6 p.m.. However, having confused the days and times and believing we could make the passage on Monday, we made our leisurely way to Gent in blissful ignorance, only to realise that evening we’d have to turn back and go all the way around the Ringvaart (Ring Canal), adding an extra 30 km, which is a day’s faring for us.
Another factor causing us to revise our plans again was the reason we had to be home by the 28th. Koos’s son had asked to come and visit us. What I hadn’t understood when the arrangement was made was that the visit should be at CC2 in France. As soon as the penny dropped, I gulped, threw up my hands and squealed ‘not possible’. To be in France on the date of our return from faring was a feat not for mere mortals like us. But then having had my hissy fit, I started thinking rationally and we realised we’d have to be back in our home port a couple of days earlier to make the plan work at all. So, we are staying much closer to home than originally intended but are still enjoying every moment.
The end result is that we spent four nights in Gent, but in two different places: the first being at our favourite place next to the Brusselsepoort lock we couldn’t go through; the second being at a marina on the south side of the city on the Leie river, which we reached via the Ringvaart.
Both were lovely and relaxing with great walks for Zoe and attractive urban environs, confirming yet again why and how I love Gent so much. From the marina, we simply crossed over the Ringvaart and carried on up the beautiful, winding Leie as far as Astene. Apart from the aesthetic beauty of this river, it has the advantage of carrying no commercial traffic until just before it joins the widened canalised section at Deinze. There are also no operating locks, so no stoppages or delays.
We wound our way through bends lined with rich, gracious and sometimes lavish homes, both classical and modern, all of which had velvet green lawns stretching down to the water’s edge. 
I was so impressed by these almost uniformly beautiful swards of emerald velvet I said to Koos, “When you buy a property here, you must have to sign a contract promising to shave your grass to within an inch of its life. Imagine the shame of having buttercups and weeds!”
Almost as I said it, there was a home with its grass looking slightly uneven and lumpy. “Oh dear,” Koos said, laughing. “They’ll be named and shamed for sure!” 
Anyway, we then spent a perfect and peaceful night at the delightful old Astene lock (which is not used as such anymore), with its pretty lifting bridge and its maritime museum/café, the creation of an old friend of Koos’s. The business has now been taken over by another friend whose design for his liveaboard barge was inspired by Koos’s Luxor. It was great to be there again, reconnect with old friends and catch up with news.
Yesterday turned unexpectedly hot as we made our way to Deinze where we were planning to spend another couple of nights. As it happens, the quay has been reserved for a yacht club event from today until Monday, so after sampling Deinze’s bustling life, we cast off this morning and returned downstream to tie up along the side of the river next to the towpath-cum-cycling track. 
Since it’s raining and likely to be stormy this afternoon, we’re quite happy to stay here for the day and then head back to Astene for a night before making our slow way home again. Perhaps there’ll be another couple of nights in Gent on the way to sample a different spot and maybe a meander into the Moervaart. Who knows? Much will depend on the weather in the coming days. In any event, this relaxed, take it-as-it-comes trip is actually perfect as we have no stress, and no worries about delays. I’m loving it!
To give you an idea of where we’ve been and what we’ve seen, here are a few photos. Unfortunately, they aren't in the right order, as the last one is the first, but I'll organise them and add more later when I've got WiFi and more electricity. For now, though, I’ll wish you all a great week ahead allemaal,  and fill you in on the rest of our trip next time.


Astene
Astene
The Leie mansions
The Leie mansions


Beginning of the Leie
Woods near the marina in Gent
The Leie marina in Gent
Zoe in her travelling kennel
Evergem lock
Choppy, windy waters
Gent side street
First mooring in Gent
The skipper

One of those bits and pieces times

It's one of those bits and pieces times. I feel a little disappointed that I can't write a post about anything other than the desultory doings of a DIYer. The thing is, the weather. It's been perfect for working outside, but as you all know, Vereeniging had her major makeover in June and since then it's been a matter of painting when the heat has permitted (barring month-long forays into France, of course). I'm blessed that I have a willing helper whose fondness for power tools is approaching those of her sister's (who would have imagined that?) and my own, so while the one Superdaughter is a tower (or power) of strength in France, the other helps me immeasurably on Vereeniging. I sometimes wonder what I did right to have two girls who prefer fixing stuff to shopping and makeup, but believe me, I count myself very blessed.
So the way things have gone is that most days have been taken up with various and sundry jobs on board.
Having spent a ludicrous amount of time wrestling the 'new' tarpaulin I've had since 2021 onto the hatches – (it's taken four years to replace the old one because I knew it would take said ludicrous amount of time) – we had to make a cut to allow the entrance hatch to be opened easily and without further wrestling. I confess I never got around to making such a cut with the old tarpaulin because of my fear of leaks (a fear founded on previous experience), but it was a factor that used to drive everyone but me mad. However, this time I think (for that, read pray) we've got it right. I won't bore you with the details, but I'm pretty pleased with the end result. Suffice to say, we have things nicely screwed down and the hatch opens like a dream!
Wielding the tool I prefer
As does my able assistant
Another job worth mentioning is the restoration of our skylights on the Hennie H. I think I mentioned them in my last post. They were in a pretty sorry state, but I've now scraped, sanded, stained and varnished them both, as well as replacing the protective moulding on the top of one of them and re-kitting the perspex windows. They're very old, so perfection is not the aim, but they look a lot better and the rot of ages has been arrested, at least.


But just in case you're now all DIY'd out, here's a photo that makes being where we are all worthwhile. There are those who ask me if I miss France when I return here. There are, of course, some aspects of our French village that I think of wistfully, but when I have the view below and the sights from Vereeniging that I see almost every day, I don't hanker for long. Life on the water still has a stronger hold on me than anything else and our sea canal here on the Belgian border has as much life and visual splendour as anything I could wish for.

Have a great weel allemaal, and I'll bring you some more news and views from the Flatlands soon.

August without rest

Just recently when we were out walking the dogs, I told my daughter I honestly couldn’t remember what I’d been doing this past month since I came back from France. 

“Write a ‘things I’ve done today’ each evening,” she suggested. “Don’t write your to-do list every morning. Write your ‘what I’ve done’ list instead.”

I think she’s right, but I haven’t started it yet, so I still haven’t got to grips with it all. All I can recall is that I’ve been busy working on audio versions of my Africa memoirs. I’ve managed to publish the first two now, which is very rewarding. I’ve been using Amazon’s beta program with a virtual voice over. It has limitations and pronunciation errors, but overall, it’s not bad at all. Since I could never afford to hire a voice artist and don’t have the skills (or technical equipment) to do it myself, it’s a fair compromise to be able to offer the books to people with vision problems. On the writing front, I’m working on a collection of stories that were originally published as articles in a sailing magazine for women, Sistership. I’m enjoying editing and adding to them for an anthology I’m putting together.

Oh yes, I’ve also succeeded in scraping, sanding and painting the Hennie H’s roof, and Koos has repaired the broken entrance hatch. Our poor little boat has suffered badly in the heat this summer and the flaking paint was getting beyond bearable. Now, I’m busy with the two roof windows, koekhoeks in Dutch. I’ve replaced them with the temporary windows I made a few years back and brought the real ones back to the crumbly cottage to work on. Restoring all things wood is something I love, so that’s no hardship.

There have been other mini projects as well, but this blog isn’t meant to be my ‘what I’ve done list’, so I think I’ve ticked off all the important things. 

What’s marked the month, though, has been the fine, dry weather. From a boating perspective, it’s been much too dry. Canals have been closing all over France and England. From a farming perspective, it’s been even worse, but for once, the conditions have been pretty good for working outside. Koos did a sterling job of painting the fence at the front of the crumbly cottage Mk 2, and I’ve managed with my daughter’s help to do more paintwork repair on both Vereeniging and Hennie H than in several previous years combined, despite the restrictions of the heat.

So yes, although it hasn’t been a month of great excitement or events, it’s been a busy one. Last weekend, however, we drove north 200 km to celebrate Koos’s sister’s 87th birthday. Given that she looks at least ten years younger, still lives independently and is as bright as a button, she’s an example to us all. It was a lovely day and although it took over six hours of driving, it was worth every minute to spend some time with her.

Have a good weekend, allemaal! Next week, it will be September. I wonder where (and how) that month will go! I won’t jinx it by saying what or when, but we have a plan…

Koos and his two older sisters. The birthday 
Girl is on the right
Still work to do, but she’s looking better!
One of the daily delights: seeing tugs and ships
On the canal
Our other daily delight: Zoe doing cute as only she know how.

Fort Rammekens, the oldest sea fort in Western Europe

I've been back in the Netherlands for nearly two weeks now and I really can't figure out where the time has gone. All I know is that I've been very busy working on the boats and doing some re-decorating in the Crumbly Cottage Mk1. However, it hasn't all been work and no play. The first week I was home I needed to go to Vlissingen to buy some rope to replace the old, stiff lichen-covered line that was keeping my tarpaulin on Vereeniging's hatches. Knowing there were some interesting sea forts along the coast there, I persuaded daughter 1, Jo, to come with me and visit Fort Rammekens, said to be the oldest sea fort in Western Europe.
After a successful visit to the chandlers in Vlissingen, we made our way east to find the fort situated on the coast nearby. I was prepared to be impressed, but I wasn't ready to find it as interesting as it is. Dating back to 1547, Fort Rammekens has had a pretty intense history, the outlines of which you can find in this website, along with information about the natural environs as well. Just make sure to ask Google to translate the site into English. 
In short, though, the fort used to be right on the sea with only a small dyke running through its walls to protect it. The outer footings of its walls were submerged in the waters of the estuary. It was originally built to defend the shipping route to Middelburg, the most important city in Zeeland (and still the provincial capital). However, over time, it was used not only for protecting Middelburg, but also to supply the Dutch East India company (the VOC) and to be part of Napoleon's defences. In addition, it acted as both a prison and a hospital and during WWII, it was part of the Germans' defence wall along the coast. These days, the sea dyke is much larger and further from the fort, while the canal to Middelburg it originally defended has been re-routed, largely rendering the fort redundant. 
That said, it remains an impressive historical monument and I really enjoyed our visit on a beautifully hot sunny day. Luckily, dogs were allowed on site and Jo and I eagerly explored all the cavernous rooms, passages and cellars we could reach. The walls of the fort are six metres thick (yes, that's right, 6m!) and these are also protected as being home to a special species of yellow wallflower.
Walking along the outer walls of the fort
Gun portals in the walls
Another gun portal
Apparently, the brickwork is Napoleonic
How we exited the fort to walk around its preimeter
Looking back
The moat surrounding the fort. In former times,
this would have been the sea.
Yellow wallflowers on the old Napoleonic
brickwork
Lucy pooch
More of the moat
Zoe squinting at the sun
These chains are simply to guide water into
channels below the ground to supply a central
reservoir.



What they used to defend the fort!
After our fascinating visit finished by a welcome cuppa from the small kiosk in the grounds, we took the pups to a nearby beach where, joy of joy, they were allowed to run off the lead. Much fun was had by all, as well as some other pooches. It was lovely to find a beach where the dogs were welcome even in high season... that is, as long as we picked up any... erm... deposits, which we always do anyway.








 Altogether, it was a lovely day out and I hope we can explore a few more of these historical sites before the weather turns cold. If you'd like to see more photos of Fort Rammekens, click on this link, 

For my next post, I'll try and remember what else I've been up to in these last two weeks, so have a good one, allemaal.

Pedalos, hikes and family visits

At the end of my last post, I'd returned to France, where I stayed for another two weeks, most of which has become a blur of activities surrounding the house. But rather than going into detail about our DIY efforts, I thought I'd share some of the more relaxing and enjoyable things we did, the most unexpected of which was going for a spin on a pedalo along the Marne river in Joinville.
My daughter, Mo, had been before, so we arranged to meet her there at the Quai des Peceaux where the pedalos are 'parked'. We were already in Joinville for other reasons, so we arrived a bit early only to be puzzled by the lack of any sign of boats for hire. All I could see was a chalk board outside a restaurant saying "Pedalos ici".
"It all seems a bit vague. Shall I go and ask?" I said to Koos, who agreed this would be the best plan.I entered the restaurant and went to the bar. Luckily, the girl serving assured me this was the right place to book, asked how many we would be and told me to come back at 18:15."Ici?" I asked, for certainty."Oui, ici, here," she said.
It still seemed a bit odd, but I supposed all would be revealed, which indeed it was. When my daughter appeared, she told us the pedalos were kept a little way along the quay behind a hut, which was why we couldn't see them. Sure enough, just after six, a young lass came out of the restaurant and led us round to the small craft. Judging by the looks alone, it's hard to think of them as boats, but I suppose they are, technically, paddlewheel boats.
Anyway, we were all supplied with life jackets and the three of us, plus the two spaniels, Zoe and Mack, climbed on board and, after some undignified scrabbling around (on my part at least), we found our seats. Mo and I elected to be the pedallers, while Koos took photos and looked after Zoe. She, bless her, curled up between his legs and went to sleep. Mack, on the other hand, wanted to keep an eye on things, especially my steering. 
We didn't go terribly far, but we were out for 45 minutes and it was altogether delightful; in fact, much more fun than I imagined it would be. The river is really so beautiful and once out of the town, it is very natural. To our huge pleasure, we even saw a kingfisher skimming over the water. The photos below are just a few Koos took after the obligatory group grin taken by the girl who helped us. Incidentally, she told us she has a spaniel and it almost seems that everyone we meet in France either has or had American Cockers. Our dogs can do no wrong!











Then, at the weekend, my other daughter, Jo, joined us and we had some terrific walks. The first was to the remains of the old castle at the top of the hill overlooking Joinville. It's a pretty steep climb and one I'd failed to achieve earlier in our stay, but this time the weather was cooler and Zoe and I managed it with encouragement from my girls. The view was worth every step.




Then the following morning, we took quite a hike through some wonderful woodland, although it transpired we were somewhat off the beaten track, a factor which was the more unfortunate when Jo lost her car key and despite their efforts to retrace our steps, the key remained buried, probably in the forest. This meant some car shuffling so she could get back to the Netherlands for work, but we made a plan involving most of the family and all was well.

My girls and all the dogs
And this was on the beaten track, so you can
imagine what it was like off it!



The last bit of fun we had was a family game of 'boules'. I've never played it before even though it's typically French. Mo had two sets of the heavy steel balls needed and we found a nice piece of flat ground down by the village hall. If you don't know it, the game is something like bowls, but it doesn't have to be played on grass and any old piece of smoothish ground will do. Great fun and lots of good natured ribbing. 


So that was it for my French adventure this summer. I'll fill you in on the rest next time, but for now, have a good weekend allemaal. Keep well, keep cool and have fun!

 

Adventures in Amsterdam and the 'lady with the dog'.

So here I am, back in France again after an enjoyable week home in the Netherlands. Not only did I have fun with my daughter on board Vereeniging, but I also took a trip to Amsterdam to meet up with one of my memoir author friends, Lisa Rose Wright. I have to say this definitely counts as one of this year's highlights because Lisa and I have been online friends for a few years now. We beta read each other's books (beta reading is feedback given by a few sharp-eyed and discerning readers prior to final proofeading) and share a love of rural life as well. I absolutely love Lisa's writing and can recommend her books without reserve. Here's a link to her Amazon page.
Anyway, Lisa and her husband had just completed a cruise down the Rhine from Basel, finishing at Amsterdam from where they were flying back to Galicia (Spain) where they live. It happened to be her husband's birthday, so after meeting them at the station, the three of us set off to find some celebratory coffee and a snack. The only place not overwhelmed with tourists was an entertainment centre, mainly for children, which was surprisingly quiet. Our friendly, obliging waiter admitted he was quite enjoying the tranquillity since most of their usual customers (parties of noisy children) were away on holiday. His good humour was a bonus when S, Lisa's husband, asked if he could have the 'kiddy menu'. It looked, so he claimed, the most enticing of what was on offer. Whether this was true or not, the waiter joined in the spirit of the occasion and presented him with the lunchbox full of goodies, while a colleague brought him a surprise gift: a ball. S was, of course, delighted. Being a gentleman of a certain age comes with equally certain benefits, one of which is the good-humoured indulgence of wait staff.

We spent a lovely few hours chatting about their cruise and the places they'd visited, amongst other subjects of common interest, i.e. books, authors, travel and writing. All too soon it was time for me to catch my train back to Zeeland, from where I headed back to France again two days later.

Meanwhile, Koos had been keeping the flags flying locally by attending the Bastille Day barbecue in our village. He was invited to join when he was passing the gathering on his motor scooter and cajoled into accepting refreshments hot off the grill.

Where was I? they asked. "Ah, she's left me," Koos said to a collective gasp of "Oh, non!" "But she's coming back," he said, and they all laughed. At that point, someone else asked, "Who are you talking about?" and another said, "You know, the lady with the dog!" It seems that Zoe and I are known for our daily walks, but now they even know my name. When Koos called to tell me where he was, there was a delightful crowd cry of 'Bonjour, Valerie' in the background. Isn't that a lovely way to make us feel welcome?

Each day we are here, more and more people stop to chat.  I love it that the old lady opposite is the sister of the former owner of the Crumbly Cottage, Mk 2, and her brother and another sister live just down the road next door to each other; the whole family in this one village. The brother keeps rabbits and chickens and collects grass cuttings to feed them in his pickup truck, which I'm very envious of as it's a double cab model similar to the bakkie I used to have in South Africa. He also has a big German-shepherd type dog that either sits next to him in his bakkie or sticks its nose out through a hole in his garage door as we pass. I have yet to see the whole dog!
There are other dogs in the village, but apart from Colette, whom I've mentioned before, no one else seems to walk their four-pawed friends. Admittedly, they have huge gardens, but the riot from these cooped-up canines when Zoe and I walk down the street suggests that they'd love to join us. Maybe we'll start a trend? Who knows?
On a more personal front, during my absence, the septic tank was emptied and cleaned (a big relief) and we now have proper internet in the house, so blogging will be much easier. Since I came back, we've also managed to dig up all the rusting steel sheets that were  spread across the garden – Koos has cut them into strips so we can now dispose of them – and we've also cleared years of hedge trimmings and garden débris from the lean-to on the side of the house, with huge thanks to daughter 2, Mo, for her incredible help in completing the job.
The top of the septic tank and
the beginning of the steel sheet project
Steel sheets cut, piled up and ready for disposal
The last couple of days have been changeable weather-wise; the sun has been cast aside for some cloudy, rainy weather, so I'll finish now with a couple of pics taken down on the canal side when it was beautifully bright, shiny and warm.




Have a good week allemaal. Living the life in rural France is everything we hoped for. The only improvement would be an open canal, so keep your fingers crossed and I'll be back with more news from the Marne valley soon.








 

Snatching a spuddle

This week, Zoe and I have been back in Zeeland. We came back last Sunday so I could be here for my daughter's birthday. Jo is a Bastille Day baby, born exactly on cue, right in the middle of the summer holiday season. It's always difficult to do anything on her special day as most people are either away or planning to be. Anyway, Mo and I came back up from France so we could have a kind of birthday brunch with her on Sunday. Since then, I've had a lovely few days spending time with her on the Vereeniging. We even managed to have a short spuddle in our tiny rowing boat (bijboot in Dutch), which was absurdly good fun.
At first, Jo was just going to use it to touch up some paint."Do you want to get in too?" she asked."No, not really. I think it's fine if you do it," I replied.But then after the job was done, she said, "Well, if you've got some oars, I'd like to go for a row.""Ha, well in that case, I'm coming too," I said, never one to miss an opportunity for a spuddle, and so I scurried inside to unearth the oars, or rather paddles. Oars is too grand a name for them.
In fact, calling the tiny tender a boat at all is stretching things a bit. It's really designed for two children or one adult at most, but we both managed to climb in and sit cross-legged on the bottom. Armed with a bright yellow paddle each we rowed up and down the harbour around the barges and back again, looking for all the world like a couple of giggling tweenies. It was the most fun I've had on the water this year. I only wish one of us had thought to take a phone and snap a photo; it's a memory worth cherishing, but I'm sure we'll do it again one of these days.
This is a pic of the boat I took when we first got it in 2022, just to give you an idea of how minuscule it is.


What was also special was having Jo spend the night on Vereeniging while I slept on the Hennie H (aka the Shoe). It felt very much like having a mini holiday at home. I had a lovely night once I'd got used to the creaking and squeaking the Shoe made when when she rubbed against the fender on the mooring pole. The wind was blowing quite hard and with the wash from passing barges, the waves travelling up the harbour were quite forceful, resulting in lots of very weird noises. Nevertheless, Zoe remained unperturbed and I ceased to notice it after a time so a good night's sleep was had by all.

Apart from the fun, we've both been doing other jobs: Jo has had her teaching and I've been tidying the garden and collecting tools and supplies to take back to France, so my next post will probably be an update on the situation there. I had an email today suggesting there might be water restrictions in the Haute-Marne, so I'll see  when I get there.

Have a lovely weekend allemaal. May the weather gods remain benevolent to all wherever you are.

Joining the locals in Joinville

Just a quick post this week, mostly pictorial, because I wanted to share images of the morning we spent in Joinville last Saturday.
As I've mentioned before, Joinville is the nearest town to the Crumbly Cottage Mk 2, which is a real bonus for us as we love it there. It's such a delightful place with its narrow, winding streets clinging to the hillside below what remains of the castle. However, the prettiest part of the town is the Quai des Peceaux, a narrow quay lined with charming limestone houses and shops. It runs along the Marne through the centre of Joinville and looks across the river to another row of gorgeous typically French houses whose ancient garden walls dip their footings into the river.
I've noticed before that the Quai des Peceaux is often the location for town events and last Saturday there was a bouquiniste, which is a market for second-hand books. There was also art, photography and music involved and the brass band playing at the end of the Quai was remarkably good. In many cases, the books on display were not just second-hand, but antique too, and we found it fascinating to browse through them.
Koos met a photographer selling books of his own work and was surprised to find they had several mutual Facebook friends, reminding us that the Internet makes the world smaller by the day. 
Anyway, enough of my rambling. The photos below give a better idea of our meanderings along the river.
I forget quite where this was, but it looks like
an old laverie or wash-house. Don't you love
the higgledy-piggledy roof tiles?
Approaching the Quai des Peceaux with the bouqueniste
all set up
A closer view
At the end of the Quai des Peceaux is this fine old bridge.
I loved the tall, narrow house on the end.
Here's a closer view of that too!
A little beyond the bridge, it's clear to see how low
the river is now. I loved the old stone walls that line it.
Looking back to the barrage in the river that helps protect
the town from flooding. Not much danger of that now.
And lastly, this is the bridge over the Marne in our village
Again, you can see how low the river water is due to the
lack of rain
That said, we have had a bit of rain in the last two days; not a huge amount but it has raised the river level slightly and cooled the temperatures temporarily. As for the canal, it seems that the VNF (the French waterways authorities) are deliberately draining it, possibly to do repairs. The water level has dropped far more in the last week than could be considered reasonable. Where last week, it was just a few centimetres below the normal level, now it is at least twenty-five centimetres lower and I can see the bottom of the channel. 

My village friend, Colette tells me it will be closed for two months. How she knows, I haven't yet ascertained, but Colette has her ear to the ground and seems to know everything. I went for a walk with her last week and despite only understanding 10% of what she said (she speaks faster than a TGV train), I learned more local news in 45 minutes than I'd picked up all week.

Other than this, our DIY adventures continue, so more on that next time. Have a lovely week allemaal.

Frying in France

As I mentioned in my last post, we are now down in France at the Crumbly Cottage, Mark 2, and Murphy has been at it again to ensure we timed it to coincide with the hottest week of the year so far. We arrived last Saturday lunchtime after spending the night at Charleville Mézières a fine town roughly forty kilometres from the Belgian border. The reason we stopped was two-fold: the first being to avoid driving in the heat of Saturday afternoon, which was predicted to reach 30C (have small dog; avoid long, hot drives), and the second being to allow Koos to take a break. He has brought his 150cc scooter down to France as a handy runaround, but 480 km is a long way to drive on such a small bike, so splitting the journey seemed sensible.

I'm pleased to report he managed perfectly, but I was even more pleased we hadn't tried to do the whole distance on Saturday. It was very hot and even with the airco going full blast, poor Zoe was panting by the time we arrived.  Since then, we've had temperatures over 30C every day and today it's been up to 38C, so outside activities have been limited. 

I walk Zoe early every morning between 7 and 8 a.m., then it's been a quick 'dash and slash' now and then until around 8 p.m. when I can finally take her for another walk.

We've made a habit of heading down to the canal side where it's shady and deliciously cool at the start of the day. In the evening, the air is like soup, hot and thick, but at least the sun has lost its power by then. We pass an old ford over the river on our way and Zoe loves going for a paddle and a drink there. Unlike most spaniels, she's not a swimmer. She dipped out on that gene (sorry) but wet paws in this heat are clearly a welcome refresher.

Sadly, we haven't seen any boats on the canal and are unlikely to this summer unless we get a lot of rain and soon. Koos, however, encountered four boats moored up in Joinville to the north of us. When chatting to the owners, he learned that they'd all been instructed by the VNF (Voies Navigables de France) to head north as the canal was being closed to traffic due to lack of water. Sad news for us too as we'd hoped to come down here with the Hennie H later on in the summer. With Plan A scuppered, we'll have to come up with Plan B but that's still to be formed.

Anyway, we have achieved a few other things. I've painted the kitchen ceiling (very hot and sticky up there!) and cut the grass (while being fried in action). Meanwhile, Koos has put up an antenna to improve our GSM signal (which doesn't help), as well as fitted a new tap in the kitchen and replaced the loo seat (two minor triumphs to compensate the failed GSM booster), both much needed jobs that involve crawling into small spaces, so very hot and sticky too. It doesn't sound a lot, but we're both moving a bit slowly during these steamy days. Even the slugs on the path outside could give us a run for their money (we don't have any 😁).

So that's our local news and limited views for now, allemaal. We're hoping for some cooler days to come before the next heatwave, but in the meantime, here are a few pics of our gorgeous environs.

The Marne river looking very low
Lovely, welcome, shady trees
More of those wonderful trees
The canal. As you can see, it's totally
undisturbed


The village cross
The mairie for the village
Old ford and mill
Paddling in the shallows
Glorious geraniums
Proud home owner!