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.

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?