Quize 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 Zeealand.

* 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!

 

A morning walk by the Marne

This last post for July comes to you from the Crumbly Cottage Mk II where we arrived last Sunday on a blessedly cooler day. Since then, temperatures have soared again and yesterday it reached 38º, although I must say it's not humid the way it is in the Netherlands, which makes these high temperatures much more bearable. In fact, I rather enjoy them. 

Zoe, on the other hand, does not, an issue I've mentioned before. She suffers from heat stress quite quickly, so we take ourselves out early in the morning when it's still cool and fresh. First call each day is down to the river, or what's left of it. If you remember, back in March, I showed photos of the Marne at the highest and most turbulent I've ever seen it. Well now, it's the other extreme. If you look at the photo below, you can see Zoe is paddling in extremely shallow water. I could quite easily walk across to the other side and not even have wet ankles. 

The rocks that make up the bed of the river are protruding and the footings of the bridge pier are completely dry. If you then look at the photo below this one, you'll see how high it was in March. The difference is quite dramatic, isn't it? I couldn't even get close to the beginning of the bridge, let alone its second pier then (the first one is invisible in both photos, but I can walk round it on dry ground now.)

For the farmers, this shortage of water is bad news. According to one report I read, Haute-Marne has had 55% less rain this year than usual. Considering the deluges of the first quarter of the year, it goes without saying that the lack of rain since then has brought the department into serious drought conditions. Everywhere I look I see pastures that should be green are dried up and yellow. Cattle in the fields are being fed with hay that should be being kept for the winter. 

For us, it is sad once again that the canal is closed, just as it was last summer. What water there is must be kept for agriculture, not for pleasure boaters. That said, the canal here is also a commercial route, which means transport of goods is affected too.

Note how close Zoe is standing to that bridge pier

This was the same spot in March. See the bridge pier in view?
That is the one in the photo above where Zoe is standing close to it.

I stood on the river bed to take this photo, and no, my feet didn't get wet.
Normally, I'd have to stand on the bridge to achieve this angle.

Another section of the river as it is now.

Not exactly the same spot but very close in March

On the upside, we have had some lovely walks along the canal, and it's always a pleasure to see a train crossing the waterway. I like to make a wish when I see one. I think it was my grandmother who taught me to do that when I was a child, but to this day, I've never registered whether those wishes (usually quite modest ones, I admit) have ever come true.

One of the other sights I enjoy in the morning is seeing cows together with their young, something we rarely see in the Netherlands. The small herd in the picture below is a particularly beautiful one. Their creamy-coloured skin is gorgeous and the youngsters look so 'new'.

Yet another charming sight is one I spotted this morning. An elderly man and his wife were driving through the village with a trailer, on which was a large plastic tank of water with watering cans hanging to its sides. I saw them stop next to a large planter with colourful blooms, so I asked him if the water was intended for those plants. 

"Oui," he replied. "There is no tap for the commune to use in the village, so we water all the plants in the street like this."

It made me smile because he and his wife must have been in their eighties at least, and yet they were still engaged in working for their community.

Cows kept together with their young–always a lovely sight

And then there are the swallows. Oh my,  I could spend hours watching them swoop, circle and dive in the street near the CC. They are common around these parts, but I've never seen as many as I have since we've been here this year. They fill the sky in the evenings with their glorious aerobatic displays of flying skill, ducking below, above and around the telephone lines that criss-cross the road. Such magic on wings. I love them. Sadly, I have no photo of them as it would be impossible to capture. If I can manage to film them, though, I'll post a clip next time.

So that's it for this month allemaal. We are blessed that we're nowhere near any of the terrible fires afflicting France, but vigilance is always necessary. Keep cool, or warm, wherever you are, and I'll be back next month for more news from the wine lands of the Champagne region.
 

The Leopold Canal – a forgotten treasure

Before I get on to the title of this post, I am pleased to say we've had a change in the weather at last! The two photos below are of the moody skies I saw during my walk with Zoe yesterday morning. Sadly, what looked like rain clouds proved feeble in the extreme and we had a smattering of drips at the most, not even enough to wet the leaves of my hydrangeas, but at least it's cooler, a blessing I never thought I would be relishing.

Spot the flying geese!

By the afternoon, the clouds had blown themselves into oblivion and the sun made a reappearance but thankfully lacking the intensity we've been becoming accustomed to. Without the energy sapping heat to contend with, and with a smidgin of ambition restored, Koos and I (with Zoe, of course) took a short drive over the Flemish border to a place called Boekhoute where we arrived at the beginning of the Leopold canal.

This tiny chapel marks the place where the canal begins.
The sign says "need seeks comfort"

Zoe looking ready to head off along the towpath

This canal is little known as it is not navigable, not these days anyway. It was constructed in the 1840s as a means of draining the Flemish polder lands. Prior to Belgium's independence in 1830, the polders in Flanders drained into the Western Scheldt, but the Dutch were not pleased with losing 30% of their territory to this new country and they closed of the drainage channels, leaving large areas of land swampy and even malarial. The solution Belgium's new government decided on was to construct a canal along the border with the Netherlands, with its mouth at Zeebrugge on the North Sea. It was to be named Leopold after the country's first king, disregarding its real champion, Jozef Andries, who was a member of Belgian's National Congress but was also a parish priest from Middelburg in Zeeland. It was he who initiated and pressed ahead with the plans for the canal.

However, all did not go exactly to plan. The original intention was to connect the North Zea with the great Gent-Terneuzen ship canal at Zelzate, but when in a rare moment of accord, the Dutch and Belgian authorities signed an agreement to allow drainage into the Western Scheldt once more, the last stretch between Boekhoute and Zelzate was abandoned and the Isabella canal was dug in 1920. It crossed the Dutch border into Zeeuws Vlaanderen with its drainage water exiting into the estuary at Braakman, a wide water course that was largely dammed in 1952, although the drainage system remains. 

What we have left is a rather beautiful and very peaceful tree-lined waterway that appears to start randomly in the middle of the Flemish countryside and which runs approximately 45 kilometres almost parallel with the Dutch border until its end between Zeebrugge and Knokke-Heist at the coast. 

That said, the towpath is popular with walkers and I wouldn't mind having a go at hiking its entire length one of these days. I'll probably have to take a little cart for Zoe, though. She's made it quite clear she doesn't do more than around seven kilometres a day and even that's stretching it.

There is a footpath the other side too

The Isabella canal, that side branch leading to the Westerschelde.
Ahead, you can see a pumping station

Wikipedia also tells us that "during WWI, the German occupiers assigned a military role to the canal. Specifically, it played a part in the Hollandstelling, (a German defence line) which, however, never served any military purpose. The last time the canal fulfilled a military function was at the end of WWII.  During the month of October 1944, several Canadian and British divisions fought heavy battles around the canal against the German occupiers in Operation Switchback, who were determined to hold the Scheldt estuary." Sorry for quoting directly from the internet, but their explanation was much better than any paraphrasing I could come up with, and the links are tempting rabbit holes :)

This wasn't the first time we've been to the canal, but we'd never been to its beginning before, so it was quite inspiring to start at the source, so to speak. When the weather's cooler, I might well plan a few long walks and see if I can fulfil that ambition. After all, 45 km is not all that far... is it?

Enjoy the rest of your week, allemaal. Next time I write, I might well be in France!

A few magical maintenance moments

One of the upsides of these heatwaves we are having this summer is that it forces me out of bed much earlier in the morning. Working on the boat is only possible in the fresher hours between 6:00 and 11:00, so shipmate Jodie and I have dragged ourselves up and out so we could do just that. The only alternative would be to wait until the hot weather is over, but then, of course, it will probably rain. Murphy and his law rule here, unfortunately.

So why do I say it's an upside? Well, the tranquillity of the harbour before most people are up has been magical. There's been very little wind and with the still calm of a day not yet begun, it's been quite lovely.

I think the photo below of Jo rowing our little boat around to Vereeniging's offshore side is a true image of this captivating morning peace. 

Shipmate enjoying the stillness of the morning
on the water

Panel painting from our little boat
rightly names 'Little Pal'

The only downside yesterday was that we didn't want to disturb anyone, especially the campers parked on the ground next to the harbour, so we deliberately avoided using power tools and focused on things we could do by hand. Yesterday's job, for instance, was painting all the panels on Vereeniging's port side as we haven't replaced those yet.

There was much hilarity and laughter because we kept forgetting things we needed and I had to clamber back on board to fetch certain tools, only to find I'd forgotten something else – you know, you have the screwdriver but not the bit; or your pocket is full of screws but they're all the wrong size. Of course, the more you try to avoid making a noise, the more noise you make, which just makes the giggles worse.

Two shipmates enjoying a minute's maintenance
on Vereeniging

Other mornings, it's been Hennie Ha's turn, and there I have to keep the noise down even more. So many people stay on their boats in this harbour it's like a floating dormitory. And let's not forget the houses nearby (see the photo below). But there, I have no one to giggle with, so I just enjoy the wonderful peace of the surroundings while I potter about, still forgetting things, still clambering in and out, but loving the quietude of being on the water as the wash from passing barges and ships rocks the boat in a gentle rhythm.

The vibrant colours here in HH's harbour are so cheerful

Taking time to give some TLC to Hennie H
aka The Shoe, also early in the morning

The better side to work on, being in the shade

And a nice grassy bank to sit on too!

Back at the crumbly cottage, we've been looking for ways to combat the heat. Being a hundred years old, the little house is not well insulated and, being brick, it tends to trap the warmth in its walls. However, what we can do is stop the sun shining straight in to the interior. 

There are many products on the market for blackout and deflective window coverings, but like the current run on mobile aircos, there has also been a run on these. My interim solution was to cut a roll of foil-covered bubble-wrap insulation to the size of the window panes and stick them on. It certainly helps to keep the worst out even though it means we're living a rather gloomy existence indoors at the moment. The exterior of the cottage looks... err... quite dazzling these days – sorry! :)

My temporary solution to the heat:
bubble-wrap insulation foil, which helps significantly!

All being well, we are planning to go to France to the CCMk2* before the end of the month, but exactly when will depend on the temperatures dropping a little. There's not point in going if we have to stay inside most of the day, so we wait...

Enjoy your weekend, allemaal, and I hope the coming week will be kind to you wherever you are!

*For anyone new to my blog the CCMk2 is the second crumbly cottage. It is also old, in need of repair and lacking in mod cons.