Blacking with Bluey

It's two weeks since I last posted here and I'm not quite sure why I haven't. It's been busy, of course, but that's normal. The education year has started again and I've been making some extra efforts to find work, something which is in slightly short supply at the moment for me as a freelancer, so I've been writing emails and updating my CV and generally putting the word out for my availability. Doing all that has definitely taken up some time.

People often ask me when I intend to retire fully and the honest answer is that I don't know. For one thing, I enjoy what I do very much. I love the contact I have with students and researchers as I find it stimulating to learn about their studies, their subjects and their opinions. The discussions are lively and it does me good to be challenged by these younger, eager minds. I might not agree with them; I sometimes don't, but being part of the debate stops me from stagnating and vegetating. That has to be a plus, doesn't it?

The other aspect is financial. Without going into detail, I came to the Netherlands too late to receive a full pension and because of the time I've been away from the UK, I am not entitled to any money from when I worked there. As for South Africa, there was (maybe still is) no reciprocal pension arrangement with Europe, and anyway, I've been away from there too long as well. Had I been financially savvy, I'd have organised myself much earlier, but I wasn't, so I just have to live with the situation. Working fills the gap and so I'll carry on teaching as long as I keep on enjoying it. After that? Well, we'll see.

So what about writing more, you might ask. It's a good question. I love writing, but it's my hobby and I've never wanted to make it my job. Okay, I worked in marketing and communications for many years, but then I was writing to order for a company. I loved that too, but it's very different from writing books and trying to market them yourself. I've never wanted my books to be 'products' and I'm hopeless at self promotion, so that wouldn't work for me. Besides, to write professionally would mean spending hours at my computer and I'm far too fidgety for that. Everyone in my sphere knows I can't sit still for more than fifteen minutes. That aside, I have a barge (make that two) to look after, which brings me to the title of this blog...see, you knew I'd get there eventually, didn't you?

A few blogs ago, I mentioned that the weather had been very harsh on Vereeniging's hull this past year. She was out of the water for three weeks in 2025 and looked beautiful when we brought her back to the harbour at Sas van Gent. However, the hard winds, storms and extreme heat of this summer reduced the shiny top coat on the hull to a cracked and flaking mess. It was horribly disappointing.

So I had an idea that I cooked up with daughter #1. If we bought another little rowing boat, we could both repaint the hull down to the waterline within a day. Enter Blue (or Bluey as he is now called), the little boat I wrote about in my last post. A couple of days after Bluey's arrival, we descended on Vereeniging with a five-litre pot of hull paint, pulled both Bluey and Grey (the little boat we already had) into the water and took a side each. We had already scraped and sanded all the flaking paint off, so now it was a matter of very carefully rolling new hull paint on to avoid any drips into the water. 

I can report that Bluey is not quite as spotless as he was on arrival and Grey is also well spattered with black, but we did it and Vereeniging has a bit more protection now agains the winter furies. She may not be shiny, but at least her hull is painted again. Daughter #1 and I, however, were splattered in black and exhausted at the end of the day. It took us both some time to recover. The muscles needed to keep the boats in place while painting in a harbour with busy water were worth a fortune in workouts.

As you can see, then, this is one reason why I could not sit and write fulltime for a living. The other reason is in the photos below. Well, not really, but Zoe needs walks despite her own conviction that she doesn't. A lazier and more reluctant dog I have yet to meet. She much prefers to snooze in this corner of the sofa. 😄

Tomorrow and every day that the weather allows and work permits this month, we'll be doing more paintwork on both Vereeniging and Hennie H, but for now, I'll wish you all a great week, allemaal and hope to have more updates on life here in the flatlands soon.

An unexpected excursion

Last Saturday,  daughter 1 and I went on an unexpected excursion and found this glorious, almost secret beach.

The Grevelingenmeer

But before I get to that, there was a small matter of collecting an addition to our fleet. Yes, really, but before I hear all the gasps and 'are you mad?'s, let me show you what it is:

Meet 'Blue' our new maintenance dinghy. I know. We have one already, but it's so much handier if we have two so that we can work independently at different places on Vereeniging's hull. Add to that, we also have a Hennie Ha, so now we can, in theory, work on both boats simultaneously if need be! We found this little gem on our Dutch version of ebay and it's immaculate. I'm almost reluctant to get it dirty it's in such good condition, but we bought it for a bargain price and we are delighted with it. 

Anyway, to collect it involved a 110 km drive north to the town of Hellevoetsluis (pronounced Hellefootslouse) to the south west of Rotterdam. Saturday started off beautifully and the sun shone as Daughter 1 and I, together with  pups, Lucy and Zoe, on the back seat, sped along the western edge of Zeeland, over the amazing Oosterschelde storm surge barrier, part of the famous Delta works and across the islands to our destination. For Jodie, it was a brand new route as she'd never been that way before and I think she was quite captivated by the wild coastal duneland with its covering off rough golden grass and tempting hiking possibilities.

Having mounted 'Blue' on the roof, we set off back with the aim of finding a good spot to walk the dogs. We'd originally thought we might go to the beach, but with the weather being so fine, a change of plan looked more appealing and we turned off at signs to the Grevelingenmeer, one of the many wide bodies of water that weave between the islands and peninsulars on this unique part of the country. 

My daughter, being a keen walker, has an app on her phone with all the trails available wherever she goes, and she could see how we could have a lovely walk from where we parked through the nature reserve to the waterside. The photos below give an idea of what it was like.

Part of the walk, which was all like this with virtually no-one
else to disturb us. The dogs had a wonderful time.

And then we arrived at this beach. Who needs the sea when
you can have this? says Zoe.

Time to dispense with shoes and socks and go for a paddle.

And time for a cheeky pooch to pinch her mum's socks :)

Zoe had a lovely time rolling in the sand...yes...it did get
everywhere!

But with a face like this, is anyone going to mind?

On the way back to the car, we saw this old WWII bunker. Apparently this area has fifteen of them, which visitors can follow as a walk of a short, but quite challenging 1.5 km. Definitely something I would like to do in the coming months. It would be so interesting to learn about the bunkers' history and what part they played in the war. I understand that underground hikes are also possible but not being a fan of tunnels, I'm not sure I'd like to do that. We also saw a poster advertising a guided night walk to observe the local bats. Unfortunately, it was on the same day as our visit, so too difficult to arrange, but I'd love to join that in the future if they repeat it.

So that's it for this month, allemaal. September begins tomorrow and with it the hints of autumn, but I hope we'll have at least some of those golden days that characterise this time of year. We need a decent bridge between the inferno of these last months and the cold days of winter, don't we?

 

When is a barge not a barge?

Answer: when it’s a narrowboat.

Before I go further, I just want to say that this post is not intended to be pedantic, nit-picking or difficult; it's just to make things a little clearer for my international readers.

To give you some background, I have a number of friends and contacts on Facebook, X and Bluesky who are genuinely interested in my life with boats, and barges in particular. I really love the way they follow my posts, send me photos of canal boats and even fascinating articles about life on the water. I can't tell you how touched I feel and how much I appreciate their enthusiasm for my watery life by sending them to me or tagging me in what they have found online.

One thing I've noticed, though, is that quite a lot (of course, not all) of my friends refer to my barge as a narrowboat. I don't mind for myself but the point is that (and it was a surprise to me too) a narrowboat is not a barge. However, my Vereeniging is a barge; she's a Dutch barge to be more precise, and she was built for carrying cargo, and even animals, along the Dutch canals. She is 3.2m (10.5 ft) wide and is nearly 20m long (about 65.5 ft). QED, she is not a narrowboat.

So what does that mean? What is a narrowboat? And why can Vereeniging not be called one? Well, a narrowboat is uniquely British for a start and it is, as its name implies, very narrow. Anything with a width (or beam) of more than 2.08 m or 6ft 10 inches is not a narrowboat. In the past, they used to carry cargo and were called 'narrow boats' as two separate words, but all modern narrowboats (one word) are purpose-built to be pleasure craft or liveaboard boats. There are a few historic narrow boats left and they still cruise the British waterways, often carrying cargo such as coal, wood and fuel for other boats. They are beautiful; they are revered and they are very special, but they are still not barges. What's more Dutch barges can never be called narrowboats, however much Vereeniging might remind people of them.

Have a look at the comparison photos below and maybe you will see the difference more easily. The first three are my photos of Wandering Snail, a narrowboat that belongs to dear friends of ours,  Anne and Oll, who cruised Europe's waterways for several years.

See how narrow Wandering Snail is?

Narrowboats have no real foredeck. They have a 'well', which
is a cosy place to sit when you're travelling.

And this is the lovely Snail on the water. Note the high sides
with portholes and the decorative paintwork.

And this is my Dutch barge, Vereeniging. See how much
wider she is and how large her foredeck is.

And here, you see her full length with the long foredeck for
carrying either goods or animals.

And here she is on the water. Although her hold is higher
than usual, it is not as high in proportion to the hull as
a narrowboat's living space is.

The one feature both Vereeniging and Wandering Snail have in common is that they have no side decks and I often think that might be the cause of the confusion. I will admit that when I first saw my barge I was reminded of a narrowboat, and that was part of her appeal. To me, she has the same charm and beauty, but I would never dream of painting her with the traditional English canal art. Why not? Well, she's a Dutch barge, isn't she? A 128-year-old former working barge. She isn't, and never will be, a narrowboat, much as I love them.

I really hope this will help clear things up. In fact, I fully understand why there's a bit of an identity issue over my barge, and I honestly won't mind if some people keep calling her a narrowboat, but it might be wise not to tell that to a narrowboat owner 😉

Have a great week ending, allemaal, and I'll be back with more boating news from the flatlands very soon.

Quinze Août, a public holiday with a difference

Summer in France is the time for village fêtes and town festivities, so when Koos and I saw a poster for a 'brocante' (flea market) in Joinville, the nearest town to our Crumbly Cottage II, scheduled for the famous quinze août* (15th August), which is a public holiday, we felt we had to go. One of the more compelling reasons for going to this particular market was that it is organised every year to raise money for the sapeurs-pompiers (fire-fighters). Yes. I don't think I need to say much more on that subject given the number and extent of the wildfires across Europe this year. The pompiers deserve all the support they can get

As a result, and because we knew it was going to be fiendishly hot on quinze août (the forecast was for 38ºC), we decided to go early. The brocante was due to open at 6 a.m. but that was pushing it a bit for us. All the same, we were there before 8 a.m. and enjoyed the event very much.

At that time, it was already quite bustling but not too crowded, which suited us. Zoe made lots of friends as we wended our way along and between the stalls. Other people were there with their dogs too so her social activity meant we also interacted with plenty of the locals. Having such a friendly dog has been a revelation to me. She's the most amazing ice breaker and my French is being tested to the max thanks to my little pooch. 

I must say the setting for the brocante was perfect. It took place in the Parc au Petit Bois which is opposite Joinville's lovely chateau. I don't know about it being a 'little wood' (petit bois), though. The trees in the park are huge and magnificent and the shade they offered that morning was perfect for our purposes. My photos below give a few snapshots of this delightful event and although we left before 9:30 owing to the increasing heat and crowds, we were very happy we'd been. Given the food being prepared and the number of stalls on show, I have a feeling the firefighters will receive a substantial contribution to their coffers, as they well deserve.

I loved these wooden geese with their unique footwear.

Koos had his eye on that tempting chain saw

I loved these two with their viking horn hats!

I also thought the chainsaw looked pretty good!

Look at those beautiful trees!

Grandpa got caught again. At some point, a small child
dumped her dolly on him and he couldn't move until she came back

Isn't this tortoise/ladybird on the children's playground special?

A couple of days later, the morning was blessedly cooler so Zoe and I drove to the next village from where we walked a stretch of the canal we hadn't done before. Our first kilometre took us past the local quarry with its railway siding and wagons loaded with white limestone.

The rest of the walk seemed delightfully pastoral and we very much enjoyed the cloudy skies for a couple of hours. The bridge below was where we stopped and turned back.

And much to our surprise, we encountered a field full of sheep, the first we'd seen in the area. They were being extremely vocal about the lack of food, and probably water, but I would guess that much of their mouthy annoyance was being directed at a man carrying a bucket who appeared to be doing the rounds of livestock feeding. He evidently hadn't got to the sheep yet.

 

Having come to the conclusion we'd had enough of the intense heat for one summer, we are now back in the Netherlands where it has also been exceptionally hot, but is cooler now for the moment – a welcome change despite the pleasure we always feel at being in France. 

Enjoy your weekend allemaal and I'll be back soon with more news and views from Zeeland.

* The 15th August is the Catholic feast of the assumption of Our Lady, which is a religious holiday observed with great diligence in both France and Belgium. 

The heat goes on

And so, ten days after my last post, the situation at the Crumbly Cottage MkII remains the same. We are now on our fifth (or is it sixth?) heatwave since June, but in truth, it feels like just one long continuous hot summer, much as we had in 1976 (if any of my readers here remember that one?). Granted we've had a couple of days when it's dropped below 30º, but those days have been few and far between, so I'll say no more about it and focus on what I've seen instead.

In my last post, I had a photo of cows and their calves, but they were all in the distance. Now there's no grazing left for them, they spend more time gathered around the hay the farmer is providing. These calves looked so contented, and I smiled to see them still feeding from their mums. They really are so pretty and sweet.

Happy babies. Still with their mums and still being udder-fed!

Cows and calves gathered around the hay feeder; one was quite
curious about me, though.

As usual, Koos and I are drawn to the canal and the river wherever we go. On one hot day, we took a drive along the Marne and its accompanying canal. The bridge below lifts for boats but is inaccessible to cars. We'd hoped to have a picnic  here, but found there was no shade or anywhere to sit, so we enjoyed some sinfully delicious cakes from the local boulangerie instead.

As for Zoe, it's been quite a struggle to keep her cool. She doesn't like swimming but she loves paddling in the river. I bought her a little paddling pool to see if I could gradually get her used to swimming. However, I didn't dare fill it because of the drought, so I put two washing-up bowls of water in it and popped her in. As you might observe, she wasn't too impressed and we haven't tried it again. Maybe next year...

On another day, we went to the departmental capital of Chaumant to explore a bit more of its historic centre than we'd seen previously. The last time we went, it was a cold day and we didn't feel inclined to linger longer. I'm so pleased we took the time to go this last week. If anything, it was too hot for comfort this time, but the city's delightful ancient alleys, marvellous basilica and beautiful stone buildings made it worth it, and then of course, it was a real reward to sit and have a fresh drink at a pavement café. Chaumont's roots date back to at least the 12th century. It holds a commanding position on a hillside above the Marne and its incredible railway viaduct is one I've posted about before (see photo below). I've also written about its history here. However, this time, I truly appreciated what a lovely, if small, city it is. With a population of only around 21000 people, it's quite a diminutive provincial capital.

That said, I'll let my photos tell their own story. Showing, as they say, is always better than telling!

In the centre of the city, the buildings are typically French
but a variety of styles

I loved these arches around the old shuttered windows

Good company is always found at a street café

I liked this balcony decked out with hanging baskets

The basilica dates from the 13th century and is
very ornate on the exterior

The details on the basilica's entrance were quite gorgeous

One of many matching gargoyles on the church. Isn't
that sky amazing?

An alley way around the church

And another

And this really caught my attention. How to
make room for a staircase in a small house!

Above and below: lovely old doors, shutters and stone cottages

On Friday, we met my daughter and her boyfriend for lunch at a rural restaurant  in the gorgeous village of Vouécourt, also on the Marne. It was a wonderfully typical plat du jour; in other words, nothing fancy, but good wholesome food served in three courses and eaten outside in the sunshine. It couldn't have been better.

Other than that, I have been walking Zoe early in the mornings along our sadly empty canal. The bankside flowers are a delight and we both enjoy the tranquillity of the towpath, but I do miss seeing boats. I can only hope that next year will see all the canals open again for the full season and that we can be on the water rather than next to it.

Gorgeous scenery along the towpath

We have also managed to sand down and re-varnish all our shutters, so that is at least an achievement of sorts. I should have taken photos, as we're rather proud of them now, but I'll do that tomorrow.

Wishing you all a wonderful week allemaal. We're heading for another scorching few days, so look after yourselves and each other!