Pictures of Haute-Marne, France

As you may have guessed from the title, we are in France at the CCMkII (Crumbly Cottage Mark II, the CCMkI being in the Netherlands, for anyone not familiar with my chaotic life). In principle, life at CCII is much the same as it is at home. It's just that we have no boats here, (much to my regret) which should mean I have less to do, but somehow it doesn't work that way. 

What is a blessing is that we have internet, so I can still keep up with work; we also have plenty of DIY jobs as the house is, well, yes, crumbly, and what we do has to be done in the short spells we are here. But that's okay. There's no goal and we're not aiming to be in the Home and Garden magazines for the best restoration job. There's just Koos and me, two old crumblies ourselves, so we do what we can and enjoy being in France and among French people. 

What can I say about our sojourn here this time? Well, the autumn has been stunning until the last two days. Even this last Friday, it was 25ºC in the afternoon. The nights have been chilly, though, but in general it has been so like a South African Winter I've loved every minute of it. The photos below are a collection of snapshots I've taken of our environs in the area and also of that little gem of a town, Joinville, of which I have become so fond.

Vouécourt, where we had coffee and ice cream after DIY 
shopping in Chaumont

Ah, okay, excuse the dog spam. A photo of Zoe had to creep in somewhere!

Zoe with Koos 

Back to business, the next few photos were taken at Luzy-sur-Marne, a delightful village just south of Chaumont. I regret not taking photos in the village itself, but I was a bit smitten with its river frontage.

The footbridge or passerelle over the canal; a bit rusty
but a fine structure

The road bridge over the same canal. This one lifts.

And then to Joinville. These photos are some I took of a walk around town I did with Zoe one morning when I was there. I discovered some gorgeous little alleys and tiny streets that could be drawn straight from a medieval novel. The electricity cables and the cars give it away, of course, but I love the fact the cables are on the outside of the houses and in some cases cross the streets overhead. We would never see anything so old-fashioned in the Netherlands, a land where everything can be buried in sand.

Earlier that same day, I'd climbed to the top of the hill against which Joinville is built. It's the site of the old castle, which crowned the hilltop from the 11th to the 17th century when it was (and I'm scandalised by this) sold to a stonemason who gradually dismantled and sold off the stone. I know the view from the top is amazing, but not the morning I scaled its exceptionally steep slopes. The next two photos show all that could be seen from the former chateau's position; the clouds hung low over the town and everything was completely obscured. 

Up in the clouds with just a few rays of sunshine
penetrating the gloom

Looking straight out from the top of the 'Chateau en haut'

Then, the image below is what I saw when I climbed down into town again; the skies were clear and it was a glorious day. No sign of the foge that had been enveloping me just minutes before.

Back at the CC again, we had a busy day when our delivery of winter fuel arrived for the wood-burning stove. At home in the Netherlands, we can order quantities of wood from one to several cubic metres, but here, the supplier told Koos the minimum was five cubic metres. This is what it looked like in the lane next to the CC where he tipped it out. In fact, this doesn't really give the full impression because the heap went back quite some way. Koos and I looked at each other in shock. 

 

The lane is a public road and although not used very often we knew we couldn't leave the wood there. We spent the next two hours (or maybe three?) re-locating it over the wall into the lean-to we'd spent even more hours clearing of rubbish last year. 

This is what it looked like when we'd finished. Not too bad for a morning's work by two old crumblies :)

Since then, Koos has nobly been rearranging it and stacking it neatly in the French style. I must say his patience puts me to shame. I have conveniently found other jobs to do which, naturally, couldn't wait.

And what of the canal? It's still almost empty and the VNF are still working on the locks near us. There are boats at the halte nautique in Froncles that haven't been able to move this summer and will probably be stuck there until next year. And it's not just our stretch. The photo below is of the canal at Luzy-sur-Marne which is roughly fifty kilometres from us. Perhaps it will be full again one day. We can but hope! The weather has turned today, so I doubt if anyone is fretting to be on board except me. 

Have a good week allemaal, and if you want a giggle, take a look at this old post of mine. I discovered it today and was weeping with laughter over the student howlers my colleagues and I collated. If the autumn chills are getting to you, their well-meant errors are guaranteed to put a smile on your face.