2024 roundup

Well here we are on the last Monday of the year. Since I didn't manage a pre-Christmas post, I thought I'd better finish off the year in style and do a final fling for 2024 before giving you all my New Year's good wishes. It's actually as much for my benefit as yours as it helps me remember what we've done this year; otherwise, I'd be at a loss.

So, starting with January, the big event in my life was having to say goodbye to my beloved little Daihatsu Cuore, Buttons. That hurt a lot and I'm still not sure if taking her to the scrapyard was the right thing to do. But more about that later. January was also the month I, with the help of my daughters and some cement mixing from Koos, installed the French drain along the side wall of the house to help alleviate the damp problem in the Crumbly Cottage's kitchen wall. We also had a spell of very cold weather, which was a first for Zoe. If she'd ever seen frost before, it was from the doors of a kennel cage, so she was fascinated by it.

In February, I met up with my sister's daughter and her husband in Dordrecht. We had a lovely lunch and walk around the city, which I enjoyed tremendously. Zoe had a visit to the poodle parlour, which she absolutely did not enjoy (look at that face) and I bought a new car at the end of the month. Bobby the Panda joined the fleet. I bought him from a garage not too far away after having first bought a Kia, which I'd had to return as the electrics were faulty. Luckily, I was given a full refund, but I had to go searching again. It was then that I regretted getting rid of Buttons, but so far, Bobby's proved to be reliable.

Dordrecht with my niece

Bobby the Panda

What a miserable little face.
"Mummy, you've betrayed me!"

In March, the first highlight was a walk on the beach with my daughters, Mo and Jo, Mo's partner and his daughter, along with all the dogs. Then, Jo and I had an interesting walk along the big locks at Terneuzen (well, the dogs found it interesting, anyway (I did to!)), after which Koos and I took a trip down to the Haute Marne and discovered the beauties of the canal and river Marne valley south of Joinville. 

A walk along the locks in Terneuzen
looking out to the estuary

The quayside at Froncles on the Canal between
Champagne and Burgundy

An aqueduct over the Marne River

As we all know, April comes with sunshine and showers, so there is always a sudden burst of growth and green. Babies are born in the animal world and I was able to start maintenance work on Vereeniging again. Nothing dramatic or interesting, but such a relief after the short, cold, winter days. Zoe, of course, featured large in most of this. She finds the animals fascinating and often sits watching the horses, sheep and chickens that populate our environs.

May was distinguished as the month I built the wainscoting in the kitchen at the Crumbly Cottage. We were also able to spend more time on board Vereeniging and even managed a spuddle on the Hennie H, which felt quite triumphant after the months of being harbour bound.

Just ready for painting

View from the hatches

Zelzate: the extent of our spuddle

In June, despite the evidence of my photos, it seemed to rain constantly, so we contented ourselves with planning our summer trip and enjoying the garden whenever it was possible.  Nevertheless, nature kept on doing its thing and we had some beautiful blooms in the garden and along the roadside. The poppies were glorious. We also had a festival in the village which featured a vintage car festival. I was instantly attracted to the Karmann Ghia shown below as I used to have one of them and loved it. In fact, it's my favourite car of all time.

Stormy skies from the garden

Glorious poppies galore

We'd really hoped to get away in July, but again, the weather gods refused to cooperate. Not only that, there were a few appointments that needed to be kept, so Koos made a foray into France, unfortunately during the first heatwave of the year, while I finally finished the wainscoting, renovated the kitchen floor and repainted the stairs. It was extremely hot for more than a week, but at least it gave me courage our holiday.

Wainscoting painted

Beautiful meadow flowers

re-vamped staircase

At last, in August, we were on our way, this year to Belgium only. We'd originally planned to go to Calais along the canal parallel to the coast and then back east, but the lock at Dunkirk was out of use, so we had to remain in Belgium. As it happened, we had a wonderful time, going instead to the border village of Roesbrugge on the Ijzer and then to Ieper (Ypres) and Diksmuide (Dixmude). The weather was stupendous and we thoroughly enjoyed our relaxed trip, finishing up in Lokeren on the Moervaart to the east of Ghent. At the end of August, we had a visit from a long-time friend from South Africa, which was really lovely. We hadn't seen Bobs (as I call her) for years, but it was as if we'd never been apart.

Faring around Brugge (Bruges)

Moored up in Veurne

On the upper Ijzer going to Roesbrugge

On the Plassendale to Nieuwpoort Canal

Lokeren

L to R, daughter 1, Jodie and Bobs

September came and the good weather remained. I made a trip up to the small fortified town of Willemstad for a shanty choir festival. I met my daughter 2, Mo, and we enjoyed the singing as well as a glorious walk around the fortifications. Koos and I then spent a few days back in our now beloved Haute Marne. In fact, the sun shone the entire time we were away and it was really quite beautiful.

Willemstad

Lafferté-sur-Aube in the Haute Marne

October saw a return to my university work and a winding down from the summer. We felt so fortunate we'd had several weeks of sun, heat and dry days. The weather became changeable again and although I enjoyed a beautiful, warm day in Rotterdam – ostensibly to go to the dentist – but also to see some friends, Koos's subsequent visit to Slovakia left me doing chores at home because it was too wet to work outside most of the time. To compound the sense of reality biting, Zoe developed a nasty ulcer and needed antibiotics, but luckily, she recovered quickly. When he came home, Koos took us on another spuddle on the Hennie H, this time round to Vereeniging's harbour, so I could do some maintenance, using the HH as a pontoon. She's very handy for that :)

October morning skies

October afternoon. The same view!

Rotterdam's Leuvenhaven

A spuddle to Vereeniging's harbour

November? Well, what can one say about November. It followed its reputation and we had rain, mist, storms and high winds on the menu, but to brighten up a typically dreary month, Sinterklaas, a Spanish bishop turned benefactor of all good children, arrived in our harbour, as he does every year. This event meant moving Vereeniging to make way for his Lordship who needed my gangplank to disembark. The day we moved was wonderfully calm, but very gloomy. The return was sunny, but with high winds. Guess which trip was easiest in a barge with no bow thruster? (A bow thruster is a helper propellor set into the bow, which assists the skipper when manoeuvring). Koos took these photos of the great man's arrival on November the 16th,

Sinterklaas arrives in our Historic Harbour

So that brings us up to date in December. Today is the 30th, and in the last month, it's been by turns, very cold, very wet and very stormy. We had one last spuddle with the Hennie H early in the month, again to Vereeniging's mooring to do some maintenance, but on both boats this time. With the inclement conditions, we didn't stay too long, but it was great to be out on the water again. Other than that, I've had work commitments to finish up and, as mentioned in an earlier post this month, I sent my latest travel memoir into the world.

Christmas was a lovely get together with family and we were seven around our little table at the Crumbly Cottage, plus three dogs. In the days since, we've been relaxing and pottering about, awaiting the moment we can celebrate the dawn of 2025 and look forward to spring, with its longer days, new growth and frothy blossoms. I can imagine those of you in the northern hemisphere are looking forward to it as much as I am! All you summer souls in the south? Well, maybe you're looking forward to cooler days?

In the meantime, Happy New Year allemaal!

The December cruise

Christmas pups

A final foray into France

This is likely to be my last blog post before Christmas, and maybe even for this year, although I'll try and do a New Year's post as well.

December being a quiet month when mostly I feel like simply hibernating, you might be surprised to hear that we made another quick foray into our newly favourite part of France, the Haute Marne. Of course it helps to have a daughter with a house there, but we are quite in love with the region. It is beautifully spacious, gloriously scenic (even in horrid weather, which was the unexpected part) and sparsely populated. In summer, it is heavenly; in winter, nowhere is, but the Haute Marne comes close.

Our jaunt took us first to the beautiful, ancient town of Joinville, which attracts me immensely with its narrow, winding streets that seem to breathe history. We stopped there for lunch and wandered the streets absorbing its old-world atmosphere.  Many of the houses have cellars and we saw one with its doors open, which I could have instantly occupied. What a fine space it was, complete with water heater, a tiled floor and bicycles. Koos sneaked in and took a photo. It looked perfect for conversion into a small apartment.

What if all cellars were like this?

The upper town is the original part of the old settlement and it wraps itself around a hill topped by the ruins of a castle. It's crumbly, romantic and wonderful. I love it. Koos took all the photos below except for the church steeple. I was too busy  drifting about absorbing the historical romance of the environs.

Later, we followed the Marne valley to the village of Gudmont Villiers-sur Marne where Koos indulged his inner child and enjoyed watching the train at the level crossing. Again, we walked through the village, delighting in the sturdy stone houses with their uniform mellow hue. Christmas is clearly a big thing in the area, as every village sported decorations attached to fences, traffic bollards, gates and houses. Christmas trees were dotted around the villages adorned with lights and colour, and it looked very festive. In the Netherlands, we also have a lot of street decorations, but they tend to be more focused on prolific lights and commercially produced figures of reindeer and snowmen. In France, most of the adornments looked home-made, which gave them great charm.

We spent two nights in the area before heading back home again. In theory, we could have stayed longer, but, contrary to what the forecast predicted, the weather was quite miserable and the days were too short to do anything much in the evenings, so we drove back home on Tuesday. As you can see from the photo below, Zoe was pleased to be queen of her castle again.

My Cockney spaniel: The pearly queen

In our Dutch village, we are now leading up to Christmas when we'll be having family down for the day at the crumbly cottage. The boats will have to fend for themselves for a few days as Vereeniging is too small for entertaining and the Hennie H is even smaller and too cold, but hopefully, with weather permitting, we'll be back on board before too long.

Happy Christmas one and all!!

So that's it for this time allemaal. Wishing you all a very happy and lovely Christmas, and I look forward to catching up with you as the New Year approaches.

 

The last spuddle of the year

I’ve been a bit remiss with my blog again, but in all honesty, there hasn’t been much happening here in the Flatlands. Winter is always limiting, and this December is proving to be either very wet and windy or bitterly cold, neither of which encourages me to spend much time outside. Even Zoe prefers looking out rather than being out, as you can see from the photo below.

However, it might surprise you to learn that we did manage one last, short spuddle. It was last Thursday when it finally stopped raining long enough for us to start up the Hennie H and take her on a trip to where Vereeniging is moored. Okay, I confess I wanted to use her as a pontoon for cleaning Vereeniging’s side panels and wooden rubbing rail (berghout in Dutch) because I can’t reach them easily from the hatches, but it was a great excuse to get out on the water one last time. 

The day was cold and blustery and we needed to wrap up warmly. Even Zoe had a jersey on, although she was still cold. I don’t think she liked it very much; she looked distinctly anxious and was either shivering or trembling in protest. 

However, despite enjoying it ourselves, time wasn’t on our side and we soon had to head back to home port. I only managed 45 minutes of de-greening before Koos decided we should get going again. The days are so short now, aren’t they?

Koos wrapped up against the cold

I do like watching the wake we leave

A much faster boat than the HH!

See that anxious little face

It’s hard to remember that just a couple of weeks earlier, it had been bright and sunny when we had a good clean up at the Hennie H, but the photo below proves it.

The only other news is that I’ve published another boating travel book. This one is about our journey south from Rotterdam with Vereeniging. It’s in three parts: the first being the preparations and trip to Oudenbosch, where I kept her for 18 months; the second covers the Oudenbosch period; and the third is about our journey south to Sas van Gent. Followers of this blog will already be familiar with some of it, but this is now the full story. If maybe you’re interested in reading a sample of the beginning, you can have a look at it here.

In actual fact, I didn’t really mean to publish another book this year, but it sort of took over and wrote itself. Books have a way of doing that. It’s also quite serendipitous as it coincides with my 25th anniversary of boat life, which I rather like, especially as Vereeniging was my first real home in this country. 

 So that’s it for this week allemaal. I hope you’re all warm wherever you are, and that you’re looking forward to some festive fun. I’m hoping to do another blog before Christmas, but for now, enjoy the rest of the week, and I’ll catch up again soon!

Changes of scene(ry)

There's not really very much to report from the Flatlands this week, but having said that, I've been very busy work-wise. It's the time of year when students are thinking about the programmes they want to apply for next, and since most masters' degrees are conducted in English here, those wishing to follow one need to prove they have the right language level. For a master's in most of the business subjects, as well as in economics and analytics, they need a C1 in English, which is, theoretically, quite advanced. 

The reality is that as long as they can understand everything we say and they can conduct a conversation on any subject we challenge them with, they can pass as long as they don't make too many mistakes. The idea of the assessments is to elicit what they can do, rather than what they have trouble with, so it's a forgiving system. And indeed, most of the students who've grown up here are fully capable of conversing quite easily in English, the result being that most of them pass. We also assess a written assignment, which in many ways is more important, and I'm often truly impressed by the quality of their writing. Of course, they make mistakes (AI has been excluded from equation), but even so, which of us can write an academic level essay in 45 minutes without a few typos and errors? They really are very good.

When I've been free to get out into the open, I've enjoyed walking with Zoe in the nearby nature reserves. The scenery in the last week has changed from autumnal to wintry, thanks to a major hoolie that blew away the the last leaves that were clinging to the trees. 

The photos below were taken before the storm when I went for a walk along the creek close to the crumbly cottage.

Spot the camouflaged canine

Got her!

Glorious colours in the fallen leaves

And more of them

In the midst of the awful weather, I took a day trip to London. Although not a breeze, it's quite easy to do with the Eurostar from Brussels. I left home at 6.20 a.m., caught a train from Ghent to Brussels at 7.20 and was at the Eurostar waiting area by 8 a.m. The train was due to leave ten minutes before nine, but this time, it was delayed. I'm not sure why. Eventually, we got away and arrived in London at 10.40. My sister was also delayed, but in her case, it was because of floods. Anyway, she met me within ten minutes of my arrival and we then made our way through a chaotic, very crowded London to Trafalgar Square where we went to the Van Gogh exhibition. 

It was such a privilege to be able to go. Van  Gogh is probably my favourite artist of all and I can't thank my sister enough for arranging it. Despite reserving a time to enter, it was incredibly busy with crowds of visitors but such a joy to see Van Gogh's incredibly masterpieces all together. Of course, his series of sunflower paintings was a huge draw. I managed to snap the one below, which I now know is one of the paintings that was recently assaulted with soup during a Just Stop Oil protest. It was apparently undamaged and put back on display just hours after the attack.

The one below with its wheatfield and Cypress trees is one of my personal favourites. He painted it in 1889 and it's still vivid and vibrant in its colours and textures.

This one, The Stevedores, is a new favourite. It depicts a coalboat on the Rhône, but has a more exotic and eastern feel, something Van Gogh was himself aware of as he likened the scene to something by Hokusai, a celebrated Japanese printmaker.

There were so many other wonderful works, but it was impossible to take photos of them all; there were too many people and it was too difficult to get a good view. I also had very little battery life on my phone to spare. My sister did better. Here are two others I loved. They're slightly fuzzy, but still faithful to the originals. Apparently, Van Gogh felt The Sower (the lower picture) was one of his most important works from his time in Arles. I think they're both superb. The Olive Grove is so captivating in its sense of those ancient trees in the heat of summer.

An olive grove

The Sower

After the exhibition, we had lunch with my brother and his wife in a Pizza restaurant on the Strand. It's always good to spend time with my family, even for such a short time, and seeing them was a special bonus. But time flew and then it was time to head to St Pancras station for the return journey home.

Back in the Netherlands again, the weather did an about turn, and from wet, mild and very windy, it is now icy cold, sunny and calm, which I have to say I prefer, so to finish with here are some photos from my walks with Zoe the last two mornings in and around our village and the canal.

The trees on the horizon are along our canal

Again, the canal is on the horizon

Zoe in her winter woollies. She's not fond
of the cold or the wet

Just the village street

Straight into the sun, I know, but still...

I'm hoping the sunny, cold weather will remain for a bit as it's much easier to live with than the gales and soaking rain. Wish us luck for a fine weekend, allemaal and enjoy yours. Till next time.

 

All in the interests of community spirit

It's that time of year in the Netherlands when everyone with young children gets inordinately excited over the arrival of a very ancient, white-bearded bishop from Spain. This gentleman is known as Sinterklaas and his purpose in life is to travel around the country on a horse dispensing gifts to good children and admonishments to the naughty ones. His whole trip culminates on December the 5th when the children receive their gifts on pakjesavond, after which he disappears back to Spain again. How he does this has never been made clear to me, but his arrival by steam boat is always a big event.

Sinterklaas turns up every year in different cities around the country (he's clever like that 😉) and in our area, he comes to the harbour where Vereeniging has her mooring. In fact, this year, he wanted to use Vereeniging's gangplank, so we were asked if we'd move our old lady in time for the grand reception yesterday. In the interests of community spirit, and all, we were happy to oblige and on Friday, in the most perfect conditions (meaning no wind at all–a very rare event), we fired up the engine.

Vereeniging, with Koos's expert help made a perfect manoeuvre and a full turn to land gently against the side of our neighbour, thus leaving a space free for his venerable and ancient lordship to disembark.

Seen from the other side

She's coupled up to the neighbour

 

leaving the gangplank vacant

Just a nice view. Well, I think so!

Our move left the way clear for a tugboat to arrive bearing his nibs, Sinterklaas. To our surprise, the good bishop has moved into the modern era and far from using a traditional steam tug for his tranport, his ship was a rather modern commercial tug, such as we often see working on the waterways here. Anyway, the kids didn't care and traditionalists merely frowned because the crowds that gathered to greet the saintly man were full of good cheer.

Koos went along to take some photos for the record and managed to capture the lively scenes on the shore in some sunshine. As you can see, everyone had a jolly time and the event was well attended.

Today, with all the fun over, we decided to move Vereeniging back to her spot again. Well, that was a different story and something of a comedy of errors. We decided, for some reason best known to neither of us, not to use the engine and just to haul her over with ropes, which wasn't the best decision we've ever made...

Long saga short, the wind was blowing hard and one of us...ahem...forgot to attach a retaining rope from Vereeniging's front end to the barge we were lying alongside, so with only one rope at her stern to pull her across, her bow was blown round and out into the harbour, leaving her at a 90-degree angle to our mooring. Pulling her back in would have put an unshorn Samson to the test, let alone two humans of a certain age, one with dodgy knees and the other with a rickety wrist. That 'ten-minute job' ended up being nearly two hours even with the help of a kind soul who happened to be watching and ended up taking much of the strain. Of course, we won in the end, and we both realised that hindsight is about the only good thing we could have taken from it, especially as we were both shattered by the time we'd sorted all the ropes out and tidied the decks.

Still, Vereeniging is back where she belongs facing out into the canal, which means she's ready to depart for any new adventures. It won't be until next year, of course, but let's hope the winter won't be a long one. Our brief spuddle on Friday got those faring juices going again.

Have a lovely week allemaal, and I hope the weather's kind to you wherever you are.

Estuary shores and sandy paws

Estuary shores are a bit different from real coastal beaches, aren't they? I grew up in London with the Thames not far away, and I remember loving the wildness of the foreshore at low tide. Seeing the mudflats and the birdlife gave me more pleasure than going to play at the pebbly Channel coast. Of course, the Welsh beaches where we spent most of my childhood holidays are incomparable, but even so, there's just something about a river estuary.

The Westerschelde Estuary

We happen to live close to the Westerschelde (Western Scheldt) estuary and it's a lovely place to take the dogs for a walk. The spot where we like going best is just to the west of Terneuzen where it's a cross between beach and tidal marshland. When the tide comes in, the land is mostly flooded but at low tide, there are large areas of grasses, tiny creeks and wild plants – great for doggy snuffles, with their pools and rivulets. You can see a little of what I mean from this Google map satellite view here.

The shady area is the sand and grassy parts mixed. There's
also a big sandbank out in the estuary that shipping needs to be
very careful to avoid 

Last weekend, my daughter and I took our pups there for a good run. It was a lovely morning and the dogs had the best time ever charging about between the rocks and into the undergrowth. I think Zoe ran more than I've ever seen her do and even, almost, got to zoomy stage, something she's not known for at all.

But I think I'll leave the photos to speak for themselves...

The tide was coming in when we were there

Happy dogs

"Hey, Lulu, this here's a good sniff!" "Yeah, Zozo, gimme a load of that!"

There are pebbles too as well as lumps of small stones
apparently glued together with sand

Just a track through the grasses here

The incoming tide brought some lovely pools for the pups

And out in the estuary, a massive container ship heads for Antwerp

To the east, a chemical factory, which I can't help finding quite beautiful

More doggy pics from daughter's perspective

Such good friends

We are now into a spell of grey and gloom and it's cold in that damp way that makes me feel unwell–real November weather. I'm not a fan, so fingers crossed the sun peeps through again soon. I've told the weather gods that cold and sunny is fine, just not this endless misty grey. They really need to do something about it. Anyway, enjoy the rest of your week, allemaal, and the weekend too!