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

So here I am, back in France again after an enjoyable week home in the Netherlands. Not only did I have fun with my daughter on board Vereeniging, but I also took a trip to Amsterdam to meet up with one of my memoir author friends, Lisa Rose Wright. I have to say this definitely counts as one of this year's highlights because Lisa and I have been online friends for a few years now. We beta read each other's books (beta reading is feedback given by a few sharp-eyed and discerning readers prior to final proofeading) and share a love of rural life as well. I absolutely love Lisa's writing and can recommend her books without reserve. Here's a link to her Amazon page.

Anyway, Lisa and her husband had just completed a cruise down the Rhine from Basel, finishing at Amsterdam from where they were flying back to Galicia (Spain) where they live. It happened to be her husband's birthday, so after meeting them at the station, the three of us set off to find some celebratory coffee and a snack. The only place not overwhelmed with tourists was an entertainment centre, mainly for children, which was surprisingly quiet. Our friendly, obliging waiter admitted he was quite enjoying the tranquillity since most of their usual customers (parties of noisy children) were away on holiday. His good humour was a bonus when S, Lisa's husband, asked if he could have the 'kiddy menu'. It looked, so he claimed, the most enticing of what was on offer. Whether this was true or not, the waiter joined in the spirit of the occasion and presented him with the lunchbox full of goodies, while a colleague brought him a surprise gift: a ball. S was, of course, delighted. Being a gentleman of a certain age comes with equally certain benefits, one of which is the good-humoured indulgence of wait staff.

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

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

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

Each day we are here, more and more people stop to chat.  I love it that the old lady opposite is the sister of the former owner of the Crumbly Cottage, Mk 2, and her brother and another sister live just down the road next door to each other; the whole family in this one village. The brother keeps rabbits and chickens and collects grass cuttings to feed them in his pickup truck, which I'm very envious of as it's a double cab model similar to the bakkie I used to have in South Africa. He also has a big German-shepherd type dog that either sits next to him in his bakkie or sticks its nose out through a hole in his garage door as we pass. I have yet to see the whole dog!

There are other dogs in the village, but apart from Colette, whom I've mentioned before, no one else seems to walk their four-pawed friends. Admittedly, they have huge gardens, but the riot from these cooped-up canines when Zoe and I walk down the street suggests that they'd love to join us. Maybe we'll start a trend? Who knows?

On a more personal front, during my absence, the septic tank was emptied and cleaned (a big relief) and we now have proper internet in the house, so blogging will be much easier. Since I came back, we've also managed to dig up all the rusting steel sheets that were  spread across the garden – Koos has cut them into strips so we can now dispose of them – and we've also cleared years of hedge trimmings and garden débris from the lean-to on the side of the house, with huge thanks to daughter 2, Mo, for her incredible help in completing the job.

The top of the septic tank and
the beginning of the steel sheet project

Steel sheets cut, piled up and ready for disposal

The last couple of days have been changeable weather-wise; the sun has been cast aside for some cloudy, rainy weather, so I'll finish now with a couple of pics taken down on the canal side when it was beautifully bright, shiny and warm.

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

 

Snatching a spuddle

This week, Zoe and I have been back in Zeeland. We came back last Sunday so I could be here for my daughter's birthday. Jo is a Bastille Day baby, born exactly on cue, right in the middle of the summer holiday season. It's always difficult to do anything on her special day as most people are either away or planning to be. Anyway, Mo and I came back up from France so we could have a kind of birthday brunch with her on Sunday. Since then, I've had a lovely few days spending time with her on the Vereeniging. We even managed to have a short spuddle in our tiny rowing boat (bijboot in Dutch), which was absurdly good fun.

At first, Jo was just going to use it to touch up some paint.

"Do you want to get in too?" she asked.

"No, not really. I think it's fine if you do it," I replied.

But then after the job was done, she said, "Well, if you've got some oars, I'd like to go for a row."

"Ha, well in that case, I'm coming too," I said, never one to miss an opportunity for a spuddle, and so I scurried inside to unearth the oars, or rather paddles. Oars is too grand a name for them.

In fact, calling the tiny tender a boat at all is stretching things a bit. It's really designed for two children or one adult at most, but we both managed to climb in and sit cross-legged on the bottom. Armed with a bright yellow paddle each we rowed up and down the harbour around the barges and back again, looking for all the world like a couple of giggling tweenies. It was the most fun I've had on the water this year. I only wish one of us had thought to take a phone and snap a photo; it's a memory worth cherishing, but I'm sure we'll do it again one of these days.

This is a pic of the boat I took when we first got it in 2022, just to give you an idea of how minuscule it is.

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

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

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

Joining the locals in Joinville

Just a quick post this week, mostly pictorial, because I wanted to share images of the morning we spent in Joinville last Saturday.

As I've mentioned before, Joinville is the nearest town to the Crumbly Cottage Mk 2, which is a real bonus for us as we love it there. It's such a delightful place with its narrow, winding streets clinging to the hillside below what remains of the castle. However, the prettiest part of the town is the Quai des Peceaux, a narrow quay lined with charming limestone houses and shops. It runs along the Marne through the centre of Joinville and looks across the river to another row of gorgeous typically French houses whose ancient garden walls dip their footings into the river.

I've noticed before that the Quai des Peceaux is often the location for town events and last Saturday there was a bouquiniste, which is a market for second-hand books. There was also art, photography and music involved and the brass band playing at the end of the Quai was remarkably good. In many cases, the books on display were not just second-hand, but antique too, and we found it fascinating to browse through them.

Koos met a photographer selling books of his own work and was surprised to find they had several mutual Facebook friends, reminding us that the Internet makes the world smaller by the day. 

Anyway, enough of my rambling. The photos below give a better idea of our meanderings along the river.

I forget quite where this was, but it looks like
an old laverie or wash-house. Don't you love
the higgledy-piggledy roof tiles?

Approaching the Quai des Peceaux with the bouqueniste
all set up

A closer view

At the end of the Quai des Peceaux is this fine old bridge.
I loved the tall, narrow house on the end.

Here's a closer view of that too!

A little beyond the bridge, it's clear to see how low
the river is now. I loved the old stone walls that line it.

Looking back to the barrage in the river that helps protect
the town from flooding. Not much danger of that now.

And lastly, this is the bridge over the Marne in our village
Again, you can see how low the river water is due to the
lack of rain

That said, we have had a bit of rain in the last two days; not a huge amount but it has raised the river level slightly and cooled the temperatures temporarily. As for the canal, it seems that the VNF (the French waterways authorities) are deliberately draining it, possibly to do repairs. The water level has dropped far more in the last week than could be considered reasonable. Where last week, it was just a few centimetres below the normal level, now it is at least twenty-five centimetres lower and I can see the bottom of the channel. 

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

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

Frying in France

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Marne river looking very low

Lovely, welcome, shady trees

More of those wonderful trees

The canal. As you can see, it's totally
undisturbed

The village cross

The mairie for the village

Old ford and mill

Paddling in the shallows

Glorious geraniums

Proud home owner!