The sky's the limit with AI (or not)

The last couple of weeks have been quite intense work-wise, so I'm a little late in blogging again. Mea culpa! Here's the reason, though.

It's not often I discuss my job, let alone voice any concerns about it, but the intensity I mentioned was generated by worries about students using AI (Artificial Intelligence) to write their essays. Have any of you had experience of this? It really is becoming quite a challenging issue.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not against AI as a tool. It can be incredibly useful, and I use it myself to give me ideas for materials I can use for classes. All I have to do is ask a question with suitable prompts and the AI program will give me suggestions for a lesson plan, for exercises, and even sample texts to use for evaluation purposes, but the thing is, I never actually use what it gives me. I just use the ideas.

The first problem with AI tools for teachers and students is that it's clever, but not clever enough. The ideas it can produce are generic and offer nothing original – for obvious reasons. After all, it can only produce what it has drawn from the mass of data it has absorbed from elsewhere. The second problem is that students don't seem to have understood these limitations, and believe if they ask ChatGPT (the most popular tool in academia) to give them an essay that answers a specific question, they can use the seemingly perfect answer it produces and the teachers won't notice. A big mistake on their part.

I won't go into the circumstances in which this issue has arisen recently, but suffice to say it became obvious that a few students were doing just what I've described, but what's worse, they were doing so in a test situation. Their essays were strangely fault free, their paragraphs were all the same length, and the arguments in their texts reflected little to no personal thought or experience and only very general ideas. Now, as a native-speaking writer myself, I know it's impossible to write a 350 word text in half an hour without making a single typo or error; nor will I produce sentences all of the same length, or have the ideal number of five sentences in a paragraph. Only super humans (or AI) can do that. 

When I write this blog, for instance. I make heaps of silly mistakes and I have to edit it numerous times before I've eliminated them all. My sentences are often far too long and I naturally ramble, so I have to cut out words, shorten sentences and improve on what I've written. It all takes a substantial amount of time, and even then, I nearly always end up with a typo or two that Koos points out to me. I haven't even noticed them.

So to add to the unlikelihood of the fault free writing, the third problem is that we cannot actually prove they've used AI. You see, if I give ChatGPT the same question four times, I'll get four different essays, so it will never be flagged as plagiarism. As I said, it's clever, but not so clever we cannot sense its use in the style and content.

But what do we do about it? If we're trying to test students' ability to write at a certain level, and AI is doing the work for them, it's a serious matter. These kids are neither exercising, nor proving, any educational skill or academic level. The only solution I can think of is that schools and colleges will have to revert to controlled exam conditions with students using paper and pens instead of independent computers. But that would really be turning the clock back, wouldn't it?

Fortunately for me, the problem isn't mine to overcome; I'm just one of the assessors. But it never feels good accusing a student of effectively cheating when you don't have the evidence they've done so. What if they were really just that accurate? It's incredibly unlikely, but not impossible. 

In the end, however, the sky might appear to be the limit when it comes to AI, but to me it feels as if it's another nail in coffin of real education, the kind of education where students use critical thinking and argue a point based on their own observations or research; that is unless we can teach them to use it as just a support rather than a replacement. What do you think? I'd be interested to hear of any experience you've had with AI.

Anyway, on the same, but slightly different subject, here are some photos of the stunning skyscapes (or limits) we've been having between the rain showers, as well as a couple of pretty spring village scenes, and Zoe, of course (for Rebecca).

 

From winter to spring and back again

It's been the oddest time here in Zeeland. Honestly, last week, we thought we'd come to the end of the miserable winter weather. The sun came out; we went for some lovely walks; Zoe shook off some winter fluff and we even got to spend the weekend on Vereeniging. The photos below are the evidence. Look at that cerulean blue sky and the puffball clouds!

I loved this view of one of the great sea ships on the canal in the distance with Zoe snuffling in the foreground.

In the fields nearby, the horses were out to grass again. The photo above is from a bit later last year – May, I think – but the same horses were in this field last week and the baby has grown quite a bit already. It was so good to see them. Zoe and Lucy, her pal, found them quite fascinating, like dog TV, so we had to stand and watch them graze while the pups sat and gazed at them adoringly.

And of course, we've been out and about. The photo above is totally gratuitous cuteness, but my excuse is that it's for Rebecca (if she sees it :)). I love the way her little paws are tucked in.

Best of all, though, was being able to spend the weekend on my Vereeniging. With all the recent storms, it's been impossible to stay over, because we've never been certain we could get on or off the barge. When the wind blows hard from the west, as it often does, it pushes her away from her mooring and I can't reach her to climb aboard. Try that with a dog as well. I can help Zoe jump the gap but then can't bridge it myself – either on or off. Anyway, last weekend was glorious and only just a bit breezy. I even worked outside in a T-shirt, managing to sand the teak entrance hatch and give it a coat of varnish, which it sorely needed.

I love waking up in the harbour; it's so peaceful. The two photos above and below were taken on Sunday morning when I was out for a walk with Zoe. The harbour is very popular with pooches and their people, so we had plenty of fun time as well as working on smooshing Vereeniging up a bit.

However, and here's the thing, we're back to winter again now. I can hardly believe I'm writing this, but it's now really cold and stormy and we've got high winds, lashing rain and hail. Last Saturday it was 24C and today, it was only 6C when I went into the village an hour ago. Is this normal for April? Maybe, but I'd be very grateful if it would just stop and give us back that lovely sunny warmth. I was really hoping to be able to get used to it.

In other news, I was also wrestling last week with the production of my new travel memoir. To cut a long and anxious story short, I published it on pre-order with a less than perfect version of the content. Big mistake on my part.

Unfortunately, you have to upload the content or you can't promote the possibility for readers to pre-order it. I was still waiting for some final feedback from my readers, and knew I'd be making some changes, but thought I'd be able to upload the best version before D day (or rather P for publishing day). One thing led to another and I realised I needed a bit more time to sort out some formatting issues and a couple of small glitches, so I tried to postpone the release date. 

And this was the real mistake. 

I'd obviously done something wrong, although I have no clue what, but Amazon wouldn't let me change it. Anyway, I've sorted everything out now, and it's released, but it was a bit stressful. Self-publishing is a choice for me, and I actually enjoy the whole production process. I like the formatting and cover design; I enjoy the nitty gritty of getting things right (as best as I can anyway), but there are times when I'm glad I'm already grey-haired. What did I learn? That I'm not sure I'll be risking that pre-order process again...

If you're interested in taking a look, here's the link to the book on Amazon US, but it's available on all Amazon marketplaces.

So that's it for this week allemaal. Keep your fingers crossed that spring returns to our shores soon. Enjoy the rest of your week! 

 

Meandering through northern France and along the Marne

Last weekend, we arrived home from another short visit to our new most frequent destination—the beautiful Haute Marne where daughter two has a second home. Despite the really gruesome weather, we enjoyed the trip very much. 

Breaking the journey each way helped tremendously, and we are incredibly thankful that Zoe is such a good traveller as well as being no trouble at all in hotel rooms. She takes it all in her stride and seems to enjoy all the new sniffs and snuffles that come with a new place, especially as we try to stay in hotels that have these gallery-type rooms where you access your 'chamber' from an outside passage. It makes it much easier for late night pee walks—and early ones too! 

The first night, we stopped at Laon in the Aisne department. Avoiding the toll roads on route took us through some delightfully pretty scenery in the Thiérache area of the Nord and Aisne departments. I've never seen hedgerows in this part of the world before. They seem so English to me, but the stretch we drove from Landrecies (south of Valenciennes) to Vervins covered some gorgeous hilly countryside with hedges surrounding every field. I could have been in England's West Country again. The Thiérache is known for its magnificent fortified churches. However, another special feature of the area is the way the old brick homes are built end-on to the roads. One village we passed through, Prisches, had rows of these wonderful old houses. We didn't stop to take photos, but here's one I found on a website about the town:

Credit: https://henoo.fr/explore/destination-Prisches_Nord_Hauts-de-France_France/closeTo

Once we arrived in the Haute Marne, our main purpose was to explore some of the villages along the Marne river and its corresponding Canal entre Champagne et Bourgogne. Like our beloved Sambre and Oise rivers, the Marne weaves its way to and fro under the canal, which means there are a number of aqueducts along the way.

Now, I don't know quite why, but I have a thing for aqueducts and love seeing them. When combined with a river bordered by enchanting villages, I am in my own kind of heaven, even when it's raining. Yes. Just think of that.

We visited Gudmont-Villiers, Rouvroy-sur-Marne, Villiers-sur-Marne and Froncles all in the space of the afternoon. The prettiest were undoubtedly Villiers and Rouvroy. Their limestone cottages complete with shutters and big barn dooors are as charming as it is possible to find and to add to the rural joy, we saw a field with pot-bellied pigs just metres from the aqueduct. I didn't take many photos because of the rain, but here are a few–of the canal or course. We managed to catch a few moments when it wasn't tipping down.

The walkway next to the aqueduct

The River Marne over which the aqueduct flows

Rural road leading to the
Canal Entre Champagne et Bourgogne

The Halte Nautique at Froncles with a hint of sunshine...we dream

Such a beautiful place to stay

On our way home, we spent the night in Maubeuge, the reason being we wanted to go to our favourite marina at Erquellines, just over the border in Belgium. Once again, the weather was diabolical, but we still enjoyed being there. It's been in our minds to take the Hennie Ha there again. For my part, I hope that's not just a dream.

Two boats at Erquellines belonging to a friend of ours

Southern Belgium, in other words Wallonia, remains very dear to my heart and I love being there. It has a stillness and calm we both cherish and the Sambre river is a particular favourite.

Our last stop before ploughing our way through torrential rain back home was to a backstreet of Jeumont (back in France, but right on the border). Koos wanted to show me this unique house he'd seen some years ago when on a scooter ride. It's concrete but built to look like tree trunks and branches. Isn't it wonderful?

So that's our travel trip for this week, allemaal. I hope you enjoyed the ride. It's been raining here all week but they promise warmth and sunshine tomorrow. Let's hope this weekend is the start of something drier! 

What a difference a year makes

Vereeniging in Oudenbosch
The river was pretty high

This time last year, Vereeniging was still in Oudenbosch at her ligplaats in the town's marina. The photo above was taken on the 23rd of March, 2023, when the river was extremely high. We'd been suffering strong gales and heavy rain, causing me more than a little anxiety. The thing was we were due to leave the marina for her new mooring on the 1st of April and the weather was not showing any signs of being in our favour.

High water in Oudenbosch last year

What eventually happened was that we left on the 3rd of April on an icy cold morning that was, thankfully, sunny and calm. The story of our trip south is one I wrote about on this blog. I'm also planning on expanding it into a travelogue that will include our original journey from Rotterdam, but that's yet to be written. 

However, given that it's almost the anniversary of our departure, I thought I'd take some time to think back on this year and see if there are any regrets about moving south. 

When I look at the photos of our mooring on the Mark, I realise there are some things about the mooring I miss, not least of which is the town itself. I really liked it there and loved driving up to spend a few days on board every week just to be somewhere else. Oudenbosch is a pretty, quaintly Dutch town with some lovely old buildings, a magnificent basilica and good facilities. It was a genuine pleasure to be there and yes, I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel some pangs of nostalgia. 

It was always a pleasure to be there

So easy to paint the boat from the bank

I also miss the position of Vereeniging against the bank. It was so easy to climb on and off the decks and it was a dream to be able to paint the boat standing on firm ground. I can't do that where we are now and I can see my paintwork suffering from the buffeting my old girl gets from the elements. The Mark at Oudenbosch was nicely sheltered from the worst of the weather's assaults – all except the extreme high water, which at least we don't have to worry about now.

The other downside is that I no longer have the excuse to pay regular visits to my younger daughter. Her home is just eight kilometres from where Vereeniging lay, so it was very handy for coffee stops and other visits. 

And lastly, I simply miss the Mark – no, I'm not joking or even punning. I really mean it. The Mark is a beautiful, tranquil river that exudes an almost mystical quality. I'm still sad we didn't spend more time exploring its beautiful reaches.

So yes, I still feel some regret that the ever increasing costs of the mooring there forced me to leave, but overall, I'm pleased with where we are now. Although we haven't spent much time on board over winter due to the awful weather, it's been so much easier to make regular checks and simply spend a few hours enjoying my barge in its new environs. Plus, there's no worry about high water on the canal, which is a huge relief, and in all honesty, there's nothing to beat our current view.

I'm very much hoping spring will show its proper face soon, and that the annuals I planted out last week will get a chance to flourish. For now, though allemaal, enjoy the rest of this week; keep warm if you're in the soggy northern climes, and cool if you're down south, but most of all, keep well!

Wash and walk

I'm not lazy, really I'm not, but I dislike doing the laundry to such an extent I tend to let it pile up. A quick solution to this problem is to take everything to the outsize washing machines that many filling stations seem to have now. I've often wondered what the connection is between laundry and petrol pumps. It stretches the imagination somewhat, doesn't it? Mind you, I could happily entertain the idea of soaking my washing in petrol, but then I'd rather set a match to it than wash it. But arsonist tendencies of the material kind aside, maybe it's because they often have a car wash on the same premises ... you know, do washing and spruce up car simultaneously? Perhaps it's an efficient use of water. Who knows? Whatever the case, our local giant washing machines are at a filling station in Terneuzen close to both a dog park, and even better, a hop and a skip to the huge locks on the Westerschelde Estuary– always great eye candy for a waterways' lover.

So, last Friday, my daughter kindly offered to let Zoe, me and my washing accompany her, Lucy and her own laundry pile to Terneuzen where we both availed ourselves of the facilities. In our case, though, we didn't do any car washing; instead, we took a walk to the locks and along the waterside. It was a blustery, rainy day – note the cloud scape as well as Zoe's hair. No, she hadn't been to the hair dresser. It was the wind giving her that artfully swept-back look. 

Both dogs enjoyed the walk as much as we did and then practised their cute impressions in the car while waiting for us to unload the machines.

Ah, now I can see! At last!

Some good sniffs around here, Zoe!

Ooh, wot you got there, Lucy?

Eye candy for me

Are we cute or what?

And just to show how wet it's been.
That isn't a lake; it's just water on the fields

The photo above is just one that shows how wet it's been here. Normally, the Netherlands can cope with excess rain. The drainage ditches do a fantastic job as do the pumps that keep the polders dry, but being a land largely below sea level, the kind of endless rain we've had has taxed even this country's brilliant anti-flooding systems. There's standing water and mud everywhere. We're just praying it will dry up sometime soon as we could definitely do with some respite (remember my green barge and damp walls?).

So that's it for this week allemaal. I hope you're all keeping well wherever you are. Below is a photo of Zoe especially for Rebecca. As my little pooch says, she can't help being adorable! :)

I can't help being adorable, can I?

 

Spring cleaning, spring tides and spring fever

It's March and that time of year when I start doing something about the green algae on and in Vereeniging's nooks and crannies. This year, it's worse than it's ever been after the winter because it's been so unbelievably wet. I'm not even going to show you a picture of how green the rubbing rail (known here as the berghout) was. I'm more than a little ashamed to have neglected it for so long, but with such lousy cold weather and so much wind it's been almost impossible to clean it in the past couple of months. 

The photo below is just to show you what I mean by the rubbing rail. It's made of hardwood with a rim of steel over it, and it attracts green growth like nothing else on the barge. The next photo is of me this last Friday with my long-handled brush. I was scrubbing it with vinegar, which happens to be the best, most environmentally friendly degreener available. It was a lot of work and I haven't finished yet, but I've made a good start. Such is life with an old barge. I have to admit I miss the little green rowing boat I had in Rotterdam. It would be such a boon to have it for these types of jobs.

The berghout or rubbing rail. This is an old photo
 taken in Rotterdam

Cleaning the rubbing rail with a long-handled brush and
vinegar. Note the ship passing in the background. 

Of course, we're hoping the weather will warm up enough to do some jaunts up the canal before long, so spring cleaning gives us the incentive needed to get out onto the water. Still, there are other lovely watery places to go too. Last weekend, I took Bobby the Panda car for a test drive to meet daughter two at a beach about halfway between our two homes. Daughter one, who lives very close to me, came along in Bobby with Lucy the Podenko to keep Zoe company. Daughter two brought her boyfriend, his daughter, and spaniel, Mack. The tide was so far out, we could barely see the water and the dogs had a wonderful time playing chase on the huge expanse of the beach. I think the humans enjoyed it too. I certainly did, especially as Bobby performed very nicely as well.

Luckily, the dogs are all very good friends. Zoe is the oldest of the three but is game for lots of larking about on the beach, in the woods and even on the sofa at home. Yesterday, I 'babysat' daughter one's Lucy when she (daughter) was out for the day. The photo below is evidence of the 'ow ow' games Zoe and Lucy find endless entertainment in playing while I find equal entertainment in watching them.

March has also brought a (spring) fever of learning into my life. Quite apart from my daily Duolingo lessons in Dutch and French, I've embarked on studying for the Dutch version of the cruising license for small boats (meaning anything up to twenty metres). I was doing quite well until I reached the current chapter about the technical stuff. As it's all written in Dutch too and frequently concerns the type of craft I have never and will never use, I'm finding it a bit of a challenge, but I'll get there. It's fun to do and good for my language development, not to mention my technical knowledge. 

I now know the difference between an outboard cooling system, an inboard cooling system with outboard water and a closed cooling system...in Dutch, so I guess I'm learning something. On Vereeniging and the Shoe, we have closed cooling systems so I'm familiar with those, but it's quite a complicated matter to understand all the different types and I'm not especially technical. 

I'll keep at it, though, and when I've finished I'll have a go at the exam. However, there's a huge amount to learn before I'm ready to take it, so it'll be a while yet. There's my paid work to do as well, you see.

Anyway, weather permitting, we'll be back cleaning the boats again in the coming week, and maybe there'll be photos to show of pristine clean barges. You never know!

That's all for now, allemaal. Enjoy the coming days and let's hope they'll stay dry and bright for us all.

 

Chaos with cars

It must seem as if I'm being a bit of a drama queen these days, or at least that I invite drama (although I do everything I can to avoid it), but I have to tell you about my chaotic car catastrophes (see what I did there?), and then that's it for the trials and tribulations, I promise.

Back in January, you may remember that I had to kiss goodbye to my beloved little car, Buttons. She'd failed her APK (the Dutch version of the MOT or roadworthy certificate) and the repairs would have been too costly to be justifiable. So, there I was without a runaround, something I find essential for my way of life with boats, teaching and dogs. 

Koos has a wonderful ancient Opel Astra, affectionately known as the Blue Classic, which at 29 years old is defying all the mechanics' predictions that she won't see another year. So far, they've been wrong, but to avoid tempting fate, we nurse her a bit now, ever conscious that she might be wearing her last tyres. This year's APK could well be the deciding test, although we hope not of course. What I'm trying to say is that even without Buttons we weren't completely car-less, but living where we do often makes it awkward to have just one vehicle, especially one as old as this one. 

The Opel wears her life scars proudly, but it can be a bit embarrassing at times. For instance, the last time we were in France, a distinctly inebriated local in a very rural village mistook us for criminals coming to make mischief. Yes, really! Now when someone is that drunk, it seems that diplomacy and courtesy take a back seat (so to speak), and honesty is all they can produce. When he slurred how he thought we were 'outsiders' from the city coming to see what nefarious deeds we could commit, I was a bit shocked and not a little mortified until I saw the funny side. However, seeing yourself as others see you can be surprising to say the least.

Anyway, that's not really my story for today. The point is, I needed a new small car, so after weeks of searching online and a few trips to go and look at cars, I became the hesitantly proud owner of a bright, shiny, red Kia Picanto.

The hesitancy part came early; in fact, before I even left the garage. I got in the car to drive it away and it wouldn't start. Thinking it was me doing something wrong and inadvertently flooding the engine, I gave it a minute, turned the motor over and gave it a good pump. It started, but I needed to rev it up a lot to keep it going. 

After that, it was fine and I drove the 130 km home without a problem. However, that wasn't the end of the problem. Over the following days it happened several times and it was also prone to stalling. It made me very nervous of stopping anywhere, especially on the hill approaching our opening bridge over the canal. So at the weekend, my very auto-savvy daughter came and with the aid of a diagnostic tool, we established there was an electrical problem, possibly with the alternator.

I then got in touch with the salesman at the garage and he was full of apologies. "Take it to a local garage and we'll cover the costs," he said. So I did. I took it to the Kia dealers nearby who diagnosed a serious wiring problem. "It's a mess," they said. "We're not touching it. You should take it back." Not very helpful, but clear.

Further contact with the sales garage resulted in my returning the car to them and getting a full refund, which was fantastic of them. I was aware they didn't know much about the inner workings of the cars, so I didn't blame them at all. Still, I was surprised and grateful they were so decent about a problem that didn't fall under the guarantee. That said, the whole experience had involved six trips there and back and four of these with a second car (being our poor old Opel).

So, what then? I started my search again, this time focusing on a Fiat Panda, which is a car I liked very much, and even test drove one before buying the Kia. Sadly, that one (the Panda) had clearly not been driven for way too long. Its exhaust was seriously rusty with lumps falling off it, while the engine bay was covered in cobwebs and full of dust.

Inside, though, it was very neat and clean, but there were a few clues regarding the previous owner that had us inventing stories. There was a crucifix plus a small plastic angel hanging from the mirror and the radio was tuned to classical music. My son-in-law, Sherlock van der Holmes, concluded the car had belonged to a single older lady from Breda (a city known for being in the Netherlands' Catholic south), who had a small dog, probably a Yorkshire terrier, judging from the sprinkling of hairs on the carpets. Whatever the case, and much as I enjoyed driving the car, it hadn't been maintained for too long.

But with that experience in mind, I began looking in earnest for a suitable Panda to adopt. It felt like a long and, at times, frustrating hunt, but was actually only a week because I returned the Kia last Wednesday and it was just yesterday I found the one I could buy and drive home in. So, without further ado, let me introduce Bobby, so named after the British policemen who drive (or at least used to drive) Panda cars. 

Bobby is also quite old for a new car but has far more bells and whistles than I've ever had before: electric windows, air conditioning, central locking etc., none of which I wanted or needed, but it's difficult to find a car without them now. He was born in 2006 and has 143,000 km on his clock. He's averaged 8500 km a year, which is quite modest, so it's unlikely he's been thrashed, and hopefully, I'll have some good driving time with him in the coming months and years. A compromise? Maybe, but I have a feeling I could grow to love him quite quickly as long as he behaves.

So that's the end of my car saga for now. At least I hope so. I think that all told I've seen and test driven seven cars in the last month and travelled a few hundred kilometres in the process. I need to thank my wonderful daughter and son-in-law (or son-out-law, as I call him) for all their help and support in my search. They also spent a whole day driving me around their area, for which I'm endlessly grateful.

Anyway, let's hope the chaos with cars is over for a bit.

Enjoy the weekend allemaal!

A soggy bloggy story

Well, I never got to write that extra post last week, so I'll have to try and catch up this week. However, for those of you who aren't into DIY or solving those types of problems, you might want to skip this one. Here's a pretty picture of Vereeniging seen through another beautiful barge to make up for it.

Vereeniging in the distance

So for the DIY enthusiasts, what's the soggy story? It's about a kitchen wall, you see. Once upon a time, when my crumbly cottage was a youngster, it had a front room and a back room each with its own fireplace. Later on, when it was older, one of its former residents decided to open up the wall between the two rooms and close up the fireplace and chimney in the back room.  All well and good. The cottage now had central heating, so why have more than one fireplace? 

That in itself was fine. Unfortunately, said resident knew not what he did because in sealing it, he set in motion a problem that has grown to ugly and mouldy proportions in the intervening years.

For a long time, I had no idea where the damp patches at the bottom of the kitchen wall were coming from. I thought it might be condensation as I usually kept a cupboard standing against it. Actually, I still don't really know the source of the problem but this last winter the weather has been so wet, the damp and mould have developed to unacceptable levels. After dismissing the condensation idea, I thought it was rising damp, but when yellow patches started showing high up on the wall, I started to believe it was probably water ingress through the old bricks. 

Some hours of research later, I bought some milky fluid that I sprayed on; it promised me it would prevent the type of ingress I feared. When this method didn't seem to improve things, I bought another product to paint on the wall – a type of cream that was supposed to seal the brickwork completely. That hasn't worked either.

However, after observing water dripping down the inside of the kitchen wall during one particularly violent storm, I wondered if rain was getting into the air vent for our extractor fan and seeping through a crack in the plaster. To address this possibility, Koos and I made a hood to cover the vent without closing it off. Once again, no change. 

Makeshift hood, which has surprisingly weathered
more than a few storms already

Then, I thought that maybe rain was also coming in through the lower air vent for the old, blocked off chimney, so I made another hood for that, not to mention digging a trench and installing a French drain. Anyway, to cut any further rambling short, none of it has made any difference, and following each storm, the kitchen wall has become increasingly damp and mouldy, with the problem principally sitting where the old chimney breast used to be. By this process of elimination, I was now beginning to feel quite certain the issue had something to do with blocking it up.

Hood over lower vent and French drain along
the length of the wall

So what could be next, you might ask? Well, I began a new attack from the inside last week. Taking off the now rotting plinth, I hacked off the plaster from the bottom of the wall to see what was behind it and found to my dismay that the fireplace flue had been filled with concrete. Now, I don't remember where I read it but apparently, you should never fill up an old chimney with concrete, especially in a cavity wall. It stops the wall 'breathing' and provides a nice 'bridge' for water ingress to pass from the outer skin to the inside wall. It also encourages condensation, which may be why there are other yellow patches on the rest of the wall. See what I mean about the unforeseeing previous owner?

So there we have it. Yesterday, when it was raining heavily, I could actually see water dripping off the concrete into the gap I'd created by removing the plaster. I now know what's happening, but... not how to fix it. Where the rain is coming through the wall, I haven't established, but I know it is and I know the concrete has to go. This will involve opening up the old fireplace and drilling out the offending filling, a job that will need care so as not to damage the outer brickwork. Oh joy.

I wanted to build a new interior wall with damp resistant plasterboard, but I think even that won't take kindly to being almost literally rained on. The incoming rainwater has to be stopped, so any suggestions from you, my courageous readers, would be welcome.

Anyone need convincing of the joys of owning an old house yet? 

That's all for this week allemaal. Wish me luck!