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, these being more interesting to most than how to dispose of rusting steel sheets and general ground clearance. 

The most unexpected delight 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 (see the post before last) 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 vaguely 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 real 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, thus demonstrating her familiarity with all things floating. Mack, on the other hand, wanted to keep an eye on what we were doing, especially my steering. 

We didn't go terribly far, but we were out for 45 minutes and it was most enjoyable; 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 – or rather, Mo did. With my dodgy eyesight I only saw a flash of blue, but given their rarity, I was thrilled to have caught a glimpse.

The photos below are just a few Koos took after the obligatory group grin pic taken by the girl who helped us. Incidentally, she told us she has a spaniel and it seems that almost 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 and urging from my girls of the "You can do it, Mum" variety (of course, I had to!). 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. A search by the girls ensued, but despite their efforts to retrace our steps, the key remained buried, probably deep in the forest. We just hope it won't unlock any anxiety traits among the resident wildlife (sorry). 

However, the loss meant some car shuffling so Jo could get back to the Netherlands for work, but we made a plan involving most of the family in cross border arrangements, 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.