Squeaking a second April post in

Yes, I admit it. This month has been beyond almost anything I've experienced in a long time, and I wish I could say it's been full of new sights, sounds and places, but I'm afraid not. My last post was two weeks ago already. I can't believe I still haven't sorted out my official license for the boating theory exam I took, but since then I've been immersed in some intensive work demands and I simply haven't had the time.

I won't go into details, as none of it is any more exciting or interesting than usual, but suffice to say it's kept my nose to the grindstone, so much so that I haven't been able to write or even read that much. Of course, being a freelancer, more work is good for my bank balance, and being in the famine and feast business, that's always a blessing; the problem is it just diverts me from other activities I might rather be doing.

Luckily, I enjoy my work and have no desire to stop yet. I love the interaction with my students; they keep my old grey cells working overtime with their constant enquiry and thirst for knowledge. Sometimes, it's a challenge that I wonder if I'm up to, and I always feel as if I learn more from them than they do from me, but I just wish I could live parallel lives. I would so like to spend more time on writing, for instance, but also on reading, working on my barge, visiting new places of interest, crocheting, painting and sewing. There simply aren't enough hours in the day to do everything I'd like to do, and still work. 

At the moment, Koos and I are in France, but I'll be returning to the Netherlands this weekend. When I haven't been working, we've been busy doing some renovations and sorting out the garden again. One issue we have in the CC Mark 2 is that there is a colony of bees living in one of the walls. As far as we can ascertain, they have been there for many years and none of our village neighbours appears to think there's anything strange in that. The problem is, though, that we'd like to paint the walls of the house and maybe even renovate the grenier the wall of which is currently very beezy (sorry). It's a bit of a dilemma really. While we don't want to upset the bees, their presence isn't condusive to either maintenance or repair. If anyone has any ideas on how to deal with these tenants of ours, suggestions will be gratefully received.

Once I'm back home in the Netherlands, there will be barge work on my agenda, which I will also enjoy, weather permitting, so watch this space for more news on that score. For now, here are a few photos of the glorious Haute-Marne during these beautiful spring days. It really is a stunning area at this lovely time of year.

A backstreet in Joinville. It doesn't look it
but this is on a very steep hill

And a little further up

Riverside bliss for residents and cyclists alike

Joinville water towers

Lovely common land in the village

The green swards behind the houses

A village backstreet. Note the table and chairs
outside. When you have no garden...

Zoe enjoying a walk along the canal towpath

Glorious chestnut trees in leaf again

The Marne back to its normal lazy flow after the raging torrent
it was six weeks ago.

Enjoy the lovely month of May, allemaal!

Geslaagd!! It’s done!

The title of this blog sounds horrendous, doesn’t it? That Dutch word ‘geslaagd’! If you expel the ‘g’ from the back of your throat, it sounds as if you are…well… to put it mildly, hoiking up something nasty, or even worse. However, far be that from its meaning, which is that you, or I in this case, have passed an exam.

I finally did it! I took my Dutch boating theory exam on Thursday after months of learning the sometimes confusing and often complicated rules, regulations and practices of waterways. It involved everything from safety measures, technical knowledge, weather conditions and waterways signage to manoeuvring in various different conditions, bridge height calculations and the meaning of lights, symbols and other boating accessories. Sheesh! I swear I’ve never had to work my poor old brain so hard, not only to know the factual details, but also to work out things like how to moor up a boat with a left (or right) turning propellor, when the wind is coming at you from various different directions, and you have a bow thruster (which we don’t have). To prepare, I did practice exams almost every day, but I still wasn’t confident, so it was with huge relief that I passed! 

Of course, it helped to have had some practical experience on the canals and rivers, but questions involving sailing, night-time conditions and using a bow thruster were difficult because they were complete unknowns. I was glad we could use a pen and paper during the exam because I could draw little boats doing different manoeuvres and work out the answers that way, 

And then there was the added puzzle of the language. Now, my Dutch is limited to very standard usage. I can read, write and speak using very normal communication without frills or idioms. Give me a letter to read from one of my service providers and that’s easy. Ask me to write business emails or speak to people about missed deliveries, problems with an account or arranging appointments, that I can do, albeit clunkily, but the figurative language they often use in these official tests had me scratching my head on many an occasion (picture Val with a big ? over her head). Add to that a few ‘trick’ questions, and you have a recipe for confusion. So, I knew I’d never ace the test and the fact I passed with a respectable score was, for me, like winning gold. 

And now what? Well, this being the Netherlands, I’ve had to order and pay for a health declaration before I can order (and probably have to pay for) my license. But once I’ve got all that,  I’ll be fit to fare for many a year. Isn’t that great?

Other than this milestone, April has been pretty intense in other ways too. I’ve had one of those waves of work which have meant long days at my laptop and little time for fun in the sun. These waves are good for my bank balance but not for my garden and boat! However, it’s settling down now and I’ll be able to get outside again more. An outdoor Val is a much happier creature than the indoor version. That said, we are off to the Haute Marne soon for some French flavour, so I’ll probably post an update from there too. There will still be work involving laptop time, but it will be in France, and the French ambience will make it easier. 😄

Enjoy your weekend allemaal!

Is it spring or not?

Sometimes, I honestly don't know what to write on my blog. At this time of year when spring is still in two minds as to whether it's going to be shy and vascillate or to go into full-on bloom, I feel in the same state of suspended animation myself. First we had warm days and the blossom bloomed, but then it changed its mind and we had bitter cold with snow, followed by overnight thunder storms and gales. Even yesterday we were having icy winds and hail. It cannot make its mind up and, as a result, neither can I.

Yes, it's true we've been doing some work on the boats when the weather has permitted, and yes, I've planted some pretty petunias in the pots and boxes in front of CC Mk1, but the will to get on with the jobs I actually want to do is still wavering. 

I really should do a few things this week, though, because from next week on I have a very busy couple of months of work, added to which we want to spend a bit of time in France (petrol prices permitting). Maybe by writing my intentions down it will spur me on to tidy up the garden and plant some annuals there too. Maybe I'll also sand down the doors and frames in the cottage so I can repaint them – a job I've been procrastinating about for some time. Perhaps I'll also finish the book I'm writing although I still have roughly a third of it to go. Maybe I'll do all of these, or none. And then, I have that exam to take...

I'll see what tomorrow brings and keep my fingers crossed that the weather will be kind enough to give me some time outside. For now, though, I'll leave you with a few photos. These five could make me believe March has been beautiful. In truth, it's been like that curate's egg: just good in parts, but those parts have at least given me views like this, so I'm not complaining!

Early morning from the cottage

Across the harbour from Vereeniging

The big passing sea ships are a constant marvel

Lovely rural walks with Zoe

A bird watching post at the nearby nature reserve

Enjoy the rest of your week allemaal and I'll be back with something of substance soon!  

The meaning of de-greening

It's that time of year again, oh readers. Time to get on board and do something about the ravages of winter on my poor Vereeniging. To give you some context, the harbour where my barge is currently moored is on the big shipping canal from Gent to Terneuzen, where the massive North Sea Port locks lead the huge cargo ships out onto the Westerschelde and from there either east to Antwerp or west to the Channel. The canal is wide and open; it is also a wind tunnel. We have a surfeit of wind in Zeeland as it is, but when it is funnelled along the canal, what might be a mere breeze on land gathers the strength and force of a gale on this bottle-neck of a waterway.

The result is that it abrades my paint work with as much power as a sandblaster and all the good work we have done the previous summer is stripped away. Add to that the mould and moss that accumulate due to the clinging damp of a Dutch winter, and there is some spring cleaning to be done as soon as the weather permits.

I've written about the not-so-joys of de-greening my barge before, both in my blogs and books, but this year it has, so far, been more enjoyable. Over the last week, we've been blessed with some bright and sunny days. While I wouldn't go so far as to say it's been warm, Sunday was an exception and the temperature climbed to around 15ºC in the shade. In the sun, it felt quite a bit warmer, so daughter 2, aka, Jodie, my 2IC when it comes to all matters Vereeniging, opted to climb into our tiny boat and de-green the wooden rubbing rail. Armed with a bucket of cleaning vinegar and an old washing up brush, she happily scrubbed away at all the parts I could not reach from the deck. I employed a second old brush and container full of vinegar to work from the foredeck. Zoe supervised from the top step where she loves sitting when I'm working outside.

I think I can genuinely say a pretty good time was had by all, and Jodie particularly enjoyed the impromptu spuddle she took when changing sides. 

And so, repeat. A further rondvaart (round trip) ensued when she followed up the de-greening by oiling the wood, which helps to protect it.  Of course, all these photos cannot hide how much work needs doing on deck and on the woodwork of the rear entrance.

But we have also managed to sand and revarnish the mast. I gave it another coat after I took the photo below as the birds (which I've also written about in my stories) have yet again been using my barge as their favourite latrine. I swear they perch on the mast in a row and go 'ready, steady, poop!' in unison.

Still, once we'd finished those tasks, the temperature was dropping and we opted to stop for the day. Luckily, it is only the end of March and as long as April gives us some more of the same, we should be ahead of the painting game this year. 

And so it was time for me to have a spuddle too. Koos had come to see how we were doing, so he caught us in the act. Our little boat is a tad small for two people, but we managed and enjoyed our jolly up to the end of the next boat and back. A perfect way to end the day!

Wishing you a good week allemaal. The world might be in a very uncertain and precarious place at the moment, but when the sun shines and there is even the smallest boat available, life can still bring a smile to our faces. As Mole so rightly said in Wind in the Willows, "there is nothing — absolutely nothing — half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats".

 

 

A different kind of driving test

 I don’t remember exactly when it was now, but back in the early noughties, I took myself off to the UK to follow a boat handling course which also involved taking a short theory test on the CEVNI (Code Européen des Voies de la Navigation Intérieure or European Inland Waterway rules) to qualify me for the RYA (Royal Yacht Association) inland waterways’ helmsman’s certificate, valid in Europe as well. I did the course on a narrowboat on the Thames, then I took the theory test. It involved maybe a dozen questions on the rules, but that was it. I passed both, but I somehow never felt I was really qualified for navigating Europe’s waterways. I just had that feeling something important was missing.

For a start, driving a narrowboat on the Thames, upstream of the tidal stretch, in fine weather, didn’t seem like sufficient preparation for driving my Dutch barge with a wheel, not a tiller, on a very busy commercial and tidal river in windy, often bad weather in the Netherlands. The two just didn’t relate. Secondly, the theory test seemed skimpy to say the least. Since then, and because of my lack of confidence  in the training I received (not their fault at all – the situation was just too different), I have generally left all the steering and manoeuvring to Koos. He was born on a barge and to him it is as intuitive as breathing. It wasn’t difficult to accept that his skill would always be greater in all and any situation.

However, and this is the thing, I stupidly let my English RYA license lapse, and it’s now too late to renew it. As a result, and because I can’t always guarantee Koos will be available to be my skipper when necessary (of course, he’s always willing, but you never know), I decided to study for the Dutch waterways’ permit, known here as the Klein Vaarbewijs (certificate for operators of pleasure craft). There are two parts to this license and I’m aiming to do Part 1 only as I have no intention of cruising on wide waters where there might be waves. Big ones. I do not do the sea or its equivalent. I get hopelessly sea sick and that would never do if I were taking on skipper’s duties, so Part 2 is one I deem to be unnecessary for me. It also means no one can ever ask me to cross the Westerschelde estuary, my big horror. Smart, eh?

Anyway, I’ve been at it now for a few months and I am staggered by the amount I need to learn. It is so much more involved than the somewhat meagre CEVNI rules test I did, which amounted to knowing what a few lights, boards and symbols meant. Now, I need to understand the theory of manoeuvring with both a right and left turning propellor, what effect a bow thruster has (which we don’t have) and what the right of way rules are for sailing boats, both in relation to other sailboats and to motorboats. There is also technical stuff to understand about diesel, petrol and electric engines, both inboard and outboard, as well as regulations for the Dutch waterways and those rivers that are part of the Rhine system. The BPR (the Dutch rules) are often different from the RPR (the Rhine rules) as regards who has right of way in different situations.

I have to say my brain is spinning with all the different information I am having to retain and I’ll be very happy if I just scrape through the exam. I’ve booked it now so for the next few weeks, I’ll be practising during the countdown. Wish me luck and some nice easy questions! 😄

In other news, spring sprung and then slumped back into winter mode again. So far, March has been cold, wet and none too encouraging, but my forsythia is doing a great job of blooming with enthusiasm and we are getting one or two jobs done on board when conditions allow.

Here are a few photos to give you the idea that the world is waking up.

A sunny afternoon today

Our village

Commercial barge on our canal

My beautiful ship

Typical March. Undecided. Should it rain or 
shine?

Have a lovely weekend allemaal and I wish you all a peaceful, pleasant week. The world might be about to implode, but as long as the sun rises every day, we can have hope.

Pretty as all the pictures

We’ve been back from France a few days now and in that time, the spring has sprung, the waters have subsided and March is set to be as dry as February was wet. In the space of the week we were in the Haute-Marne, huge lakes reverted to fields and the waters of the Marne ceased their torrential rage and dropped a good 60 cm. It was glorious to see the sun shining, so Koos and I enjoyed seeing the villages come alive again. People started working on their gardens, sweeping away the debris left by the rain and storms and generally tidying up their world. I also noticed lots of activity with wood chopping, sawing and stacking. It seems our village folk are already preparing for next winter. Maybe we should take note!

The photos below are just snaps of some of the lovely days we had in the area. These blue skies did much for everyone’s spirits.

In my last post, I showed you a couple of photos of our local laverie at the beginning of the week. It was completely submerged in water then, and the river was lapping through the door. By Sunday, we could go into it and the water had dropped below the second step, which was incredible to see. It’s awe inspiring how fast these changes can occur.

The river was around the roots of these bushes the previous week. By the time we left, it was almost back to normal winter levels.

And the tree lodged against the bridge here was almost completely submerged when we first came to look at the waters. It’s  now exposed and will have to be cleared away, or it will become a dam which could cause flooding too.

And now we are back in our other lovely place where horizons and watery vistas take on their own special significance. This ethereal scene was at the creek a few hundred metres from our Crumbly Cottage early one morning before the sun had burnt through the low lying mist.

And here is a scene from my walk with Zoe this morning. Our village runs along a dyke so we can be out in the fields in no time. Here, I’m looking back to an old brewery, one of at least four that used to operate in this community. No wonder the Belgians like it! 😆 In fact, there are no breweries and no tramlines along the dyke these days, but the village really is very popular with our neighbours across the border. The population has a high percentage of Flemish folk and it’s nice to feel part of their culture too.

 Have a great weekend, allemaal. We will be busy with boats, I think, so watch this space for news on cleaning and degreening! 

Soggy and Boggy in France

 So yes, we’re back at our Crumbly Cottage Mk2 this week, making sure it hasn’t been washed away. Actually, we weren’t particularly concerned about that as Grand Est, while very wet, has not had the major flooding the poor souls in the south have had. It’s been appalling there as well as in Andalucia, Spain, and in Portugal. However, we were prepared for some inondation as it’s called here and were not surprised to see many places with lakes of standing water in fields that are normally dry and clear evidence of rivers breaking their banks.

Our own Marne river here in the village is higher than I’ve ever seen it, with some spots where it has lapped over into the neighbouring fields. What is most impressive is the speed of the flow. From being a usually fairly tranquil river, it has become a torrent of awe-inspiring noise, carrying tree branches and all sorts of debris with it in its race downstream. I took this short video of it from the village bridge.

Here are some other photos I snapped when I took Zoe for a walk along the path between the river and the canal.

The old laverie is completely swamped and full of water

Here, the river next to the laverie has broken
its banks

Another spot where it has risen over the bank

The ford where Zoe likes to drink and paddle is now too deep
to cross over.

There’s usually much more space beneath that foot bridge!
The mill in the background must be very noisy now.

More high water. It’s amazing the trees aren’t all uprooted

Yesterday morning, we had to go to Chaumont, the departmental capital, to do some admin at the tax office, so while Koos was busy negotiating his way through French bureaucracy, I went for a walk with Zoe. The weather wasn’t inspiring, but it was at least dry. Chaumont is a fine city built high above the Marne valley. We’ll definitely go back on a nicer day to explore more as this is the second time we’ve been in less than inviting conditions. Here are a few snaps to give an idea of its position.

Just beneath the high ramparts

Looking down into the valley from the ramparts

The city’s administration building is an example of the type
of archtecture prevalent in Chaumont

A rather nice bandstand in a small park 
opposite the city’s admin offices. If you
look through it, you’ll see more houses of a
similar style

We are hoping today will be a lovely one once the fog has lifted, so I’ll wish you all a good week, allemaal, and hope you are warm, dry and contented wherever you are.