Four seasons in one day

This past Sunday was one of those typical Dutch ones. I remember being amazed when I first came here from South Africa that we could have four seasons in one day, just like the Crowded House song. What surprised me even more was that it happened quite regularly, meaning we could have brilliant sunshine, torrential rain, a gale and snow within the space of 24 hours. 

In South Africa, the weather tended to be much more stable and predictable. Here in the Netherlands, you never know what you’re going to get next, especially at this time of year.

Yesterday was like that. We had a lovely morning walking in beautiful sunshine, but by 3 p.m. it had started snowing and it came down heavily. Daughter 2, Mo, had been to visit and headed back home just in time. This was what it looked like at 3.30 p.m.

 

Then, this morning it was raining, blowing a hoolie and miserable; we even had some hail, so dog walking seemed destined to be a quick dash between the showers. Surprisingly, the weather improved, so we managed not only a decent walk, but also a trip to the harbour to check on the boats. That was just as well, because our Hennie Ha had slipped her mooring in the gale and was floating across her berth ready to take off. Fortunately, the sun was shining again by this time and fixing her back in place was done without complaint or cold. It was a lesson learned, though. Our new mooring will need some rethinking.

Ten minutes later, we were checking on Vereeniging and the rain started again, without any warning. Well at least the wet stuff helped to clean the tarpaulin, but we naturally kept it as brief as possible. As I said, the Dutch weather is unpredictable, even fickle! Zoe loves cold, dry weather, but she’s not a fan of having wet paws…just like her mum. Here she is looking relieved after having her fluff dried.

Of course, I know why the weather’s not great. It’s Carnival time here in our area, and it’s guaranteed that there will be rain, cold, and anything else the sky can throw at us during these festivities. I never quite understand why anyone wants to participate, but there you go. It’s very popular and the costumes people put together are amazing! Wonderful colours and zany outfits. I saw a man today dressed up as a pony and rider. I still can’t quite figure out how that worked.

Enjoy the rest of you week, allemaal, and I hope your weather’s not too bad. It seems to have been extreme for so many people, and there’s been so much damage. Take care until next time.

A new spot in our watery world

So here we are, nine days into February already and we're counting the days until those first scents of spring creep into our noses, lift our spirits and brighten our days. We had a foretaste of it this last Sunday. For a few glorious hours, the sun shone and the temperatures crawled their way up to double figures. For us, it was perfect timing because we had to move our Hennie H to a new mooring in the harbour, so the weather couldn't have been better for our first manoeuvring of the year.

Okay, we didn't exactly have to go far, but there's nothing like the feeling that starting the engine arouses. The rumble of our steady diesel motor under our feet, the wonderful exhilaration of casting off the ropes, the delight of reversing out into the harbour, it's all great motivation for planning trips in the months to come. 

In reality, all we had to do was move three places sideways and into the corner of the harbour, a new arrangement that suits us perfectly as we've long hankered for this spot. It's more private, more easily accessible from the land and will probably make maintenance easier too. Although not quite the same as lying alongside, I can see possibilities for placing a small pontoon between the boat and the bank so that we can paint the sides. Whatever the case, we're very happy with the change.

The move was made more fun by having daughter 1, Jodie, along for the ride. She's learning the ropes both literally and figuratively, as she's going to be taking over Vereeniging one of these years. She was also a great assistant to Koos while he attached a new mooring pin to one of the poles. Jo has had many years of experience as a human clamp and she's perfected the art admirably. :)

That said, I couldn't help noticing that apart from all the usual maintenance that needs doing, we need a lift out to paint the waterline and the hull below it, so watch this space for forthcoming arrangements in that regard.

Back at the CC Mk 1 again, Zoe and her bestie, Lucy, enjoyed some cuddle time together while we consumed coffee and apple tart (a typically Dutch treat we all love). Don't they look absolutely adorable together? I love these photos of them.

 

Other than these snippets, there isn't all too much to report. I am busy studying for my Dutch boating license (I stupidly let my English one lapse) and I'm also doing some teaching, as well as the regular training for my examining work, so life is busy and fitting in the more creative areas I enjoy is not quite as easy. That said, my crochet, writing and DIY projects are still simmering away.

Looking out from our world here, I am praying the poor folk in Spain and Portugal gain some relief from the terrible storms and torrential rain they've been enduring. The stories from the region are heartbreaking and, tragically, a friend of mine has lost her home to the floods in Andalucia. Her house and land have been claimed by the river, which burst its banks and consumed everything within range. Her goats and horse have had to be moved onto a neighbour's land, while she and her husband are sheltering with another neighbour until they can find a way forward. They really have lost everything except each other and their animals. A friend of theirs in Spain has set up a GoFundMe donation page to try and collect money to help them survive the coming weeks. If any of my readers here feels like contributing – every little helps – here's the link: GoFundMe 

Have a good week allemaal and let's hope the snowdrops I saw this morning are heralding an early spring. We could all do with some of these small signs of hope, couldn't we?

Crafting new ideas

January hasn't exactly been an inspiring month. It started off with a heap of snow, which I can't say I enjoyed. I was six when I decided I absolutely did not like winter, snow or any other typical manifestation of that season. As for Zoe, she quite liked it to begin with, but then she got ice balls stuck to her legs and feet and that wasn't so much fun; nor did she like wearing the little snow booties I borrowed from my daughter much, but she tolerated them very well. I think we were more entertained by the kicking donkey impressions she made before she got used to them.

We are not amused!

Luckily for me, Daughter 1, Jo, is a master of crochet these days and she made me this wonderful hood, which helped keep the worst of the icy blasts off. I find it incredible that it only took her an evening to make it. 

My lovely monk's hood

On that note, I decided to try my hand at crochet myself while outdoor activities have been so limited. I've been getting a bit of cabin fever even though the snow didn't last long. I'm so used to being able to spend time outside, even if it's only for long walks, so the cold has been difficult to endure to say the least. Anyway, I've managed to make a hat, which some of you have already seen and I'm now busy with another one in a more complicated design, It's taking me a while as I don't have the patience to sit still for very long, but this was the beginning of it. 

The work in progress

I made a couple of bloopers in one row and didn't notice it until I'd got too far to undo it, so I'm hoping no one will notice once it's on my head, and if they do, well they're too close for courtesy anyway. 😊

This is the one some of you have already seen

Another project that kept me busy for a few days was adapting my kitchen stove to be more Val-friendly. I am not a cook and have never made any claims to be, so when we first found the CC Mk1, I was a bit flummoxed by the huge Boretti stove that occupies a large portion of one wall. I realised I was supposed to count myself lucky, but I had no idea what I could do with such a beast. It has six gas burners and a huge oven.

At best, we used two of the hobs and the oven was only turned on once a year when family came to visit. However, I now have a combination microwave, so the oven became even more redundant, and for the last two years, I've just used it as a cupboard. Then, with the increase in energy prices, I started thinking of replacing it and gaining more counter space by buying a smaller stove. Bad idea.

If I wanted a new all-electric cooker, I would need a new group added to the main electricity board as well as a new socket and plug for phase 2 or 3 electricity. My solution was to turn off the gas to the stove, remove the burner grates and the loose tops of the burners and make an extra 'counter' to cover two-thirds of the top. Then I bought a two-hob, free-standing induction plate, which neatly fills in the last third. The oven is also unplugged. The upside is everything is still there if we ever need to resurrect the stove, but now it's much better suited to my way of preparing and cooking food.

As for the Boretti itself, it's a fine appliance, and it still looks good, even if it's now just a cupboard with a small cooker on top!

A much more Val-friendly arrangement

I found the wood for the counter in the cellar, shabby and discoloured, but after sanding it, colouring it with garden fence stain and varnishing it, I was very happy. Koos then helped me by cutting the aluminium trim neatly to size and we used silicone kit to stick it on. I must say I'm very pleased with the result. 

We also spent one Sunday installing a rainwater tank in the garden. I've wanted one for a long time and now, at last, we have one. Hopefully, this will help water the plants in the summer although we have to seal the pipe that feeds the tank. With the rain we've had in the last few days, the tank is full and it's leaking out of the hole that receives the feed pipe. There's always something, isn't there?

I rather like its organic shape. Excuse the messy
garden, though. I haven't had the courage to go
and tidy it up!

So that's about it allemaal. Nothing very exciting and I wouldn't blame you if you've lost interest by now. Sadly, we haven't been able to do much on the boats except give them a clean up a couple of times, so news on that front is pitifully lacking. Here's hoping the weather cheers up some more and gives us a chance to get busy again. I'll finish with a boaty photo just as inspiration. Till next time!

Good morning lock Evergem, this is Vereeniging Papa Golf 1234

 Well I've finally done it! Some of you may recall I took my VHF radio exam in December so that I could register the portable VHF radio I bought for Vereeniging.

Of course, I was thrilled to pass the exam, but the real test was the one that followed. How could I get my handheld radio registered for my beloved barge? When I say that these things are organised and regulated by national authorities, you will, I think, understand that these institutions' purpose in life is not to make things simple. 

The thing was, I received my 'certificate' for passing the exam. Actually, certificate is a bit of a misnomer as it's a plastic card like all the others we have in our wallets and much like my driving license. Anyway, that told me my qualification had been officially recognised; at least, so I thought. However, on logging in to the relevant government website to register my VHF, I received a message that I couldn't do so without a certificate and it appeared that the fact I'd passed the exam wasn't yet on the system. Okay, I thought, I can wait, but in the meantime I wrote an email to the relevant body, the RDI (Rijksinspectie Digitale Infastructuur), to ask the how long it would take.

I have to say they were very quick. A nice person from their office wrote to me to say that if I wanted to register a VHF radio, I'd need a permit. She also sent me the link to where I could read about it. Well, that totally rocked me. I thought I had the permit I needed by passing the exam. What now? 

By this time, it was just before the Christmas holiday and after trying unsuccessfully to decipher the complicated language in which the site was written (usual governmental gobbledegook, but even more obtuse in Dutch), I decided to give it a rest until the new year. After all, I wasn't going anywhere by boat, was I? Not in the frigid weather we were having. And anyway, we were in France, far away from my beloved Vereeniging.

On our return to the Flatlands, I received a second email from the lady at the ministry. She admitted with effusive apologies that she'd made a mistake and I didn't need a permit after all. I just had to register my VHF in the normal way. Naturally, I thanked her but was still a bit mystified, since when I'd first applied, you might remember I wasn't allowed to complete the online form due to my lack of certificate.

Thankfully, the RDI seemed to have recovered from their holiday hiccoughs and I was able to complete my details without any further stern messages. But that wasn't the end of it. I still had to wait for my registration to be official before I could set the VHF device up.

Then, at last, a few days ago I received the letter and yet another card with all the details: the ATIS code (a special number that identifies my device precisely) and my call sign, which is the one beginning Papa Golf (or PG1234, which is not exactly it but you get the idea). 

The nerve-wracking part of it was that I now had to programme the radio with the code and be extremely careful not to make a mistake. The documentation said that if I got it wrong, I'd have to send the device back to the distributor or manufacturer to have the mistake corrected. Gulp!

So... I enlisted Koos's help and together we sat down and went through the process step by step. It took us a while and lots of checking, re-reading and repeating but eventually it was done.

I can't tell you how chuffed I am now to have Vereeniging's own VHF and her own call sign. That makes all those weeks of studying worthwhile and I can't wait to get out on the water again and use it.

And that's it for this blog. Till next time allemaal. I hope you all have a good weekending and I'll fill you in on all the other news and updates later.

A different kind of New Year

Normally, we go to the coast on New Year's day, as many of my long-time blogging friends know by now. It's been our tradition since we bought the Crumbly Cottage Mk1 (see this old post from 2014) until this year when we were simply too far from the coast to get there; 422 km too far, in fact. We still felt impelled to go somewhere, though, so Koos suggested we go and visit a lock and a tunnel over the canal he'd spotted as he was driving back to the Crumbly Cottage Mk 2 from Chaumont, Haute-Marne's departmental capital. Since a canal is as good as the sea to a boat-loving Val, off we went, only to discover it was a real treasure.

Not only is the tunnel at Condes, where we found Koos's sighting, the only two-way canal tunnel in France (two commercial 5-metre wide péniches can pass each other comfortably in the tunnel), but beyond it there is both an aqueduct and a lifting bridge. What's more, although you can't quite see it from where I'm standing to take the photo below, the end of the lock that Koos initially spotted from the car is next to Zoe. That makes four major waterways' features all in one place. Quite a bonanza for us! As the proud mayor of Conde said when these four monumental structures were built in the 1880s, 'Within 500 metres there are four fine examples of 19th century industrial achievement'. And he was right. From the lock to the tunnel is less than a hundred metres, and the aqueduct with its bridge are less than a hundred metres from the other end of the tunnel, which is itself 308 metres long.

We very much enjoyed our discovery and it made a great alternative to the normal 1st of January beach outing. In fact, the aqueduct and its bridge made it extra special because, as some of you know, I have a bit of a thing about them, so I hope the photos give you a good idea of how these structures hang together.

Zoe and I are standing next to the lock

I'm now standing at the beginning of the aqueduct
looking back to the 'two-lane' tunnel

Along the aqueduct over the Marne

The Marne again

The lifting bridge over the end of the aqueduct

An overview

I hope you've enjoyed this small piece of canal history and engineering. There are many websites that include a sentence or two about Condes' special canal features, but none that are specifically dedicated to its construction and how it came to be. I'll keep looking, though! Have a good weekend, allemaal, and I'll catch up with you next week.