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January 2012
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Lucie and Charlie on Holiday in Bezier
- Lucie's at Nini's house (Bezier) with Steve, Sophie and Charlie.
Carnival Time for us Boat People
- This carnival takes place, early in each season, in Castelsarrasin
Champagne on the rocks Sept. 14th 08
- Pictures of Malcolm's 67th birthday trip which went wrong!
Become a Fan
January 25, 2012
Yet another "chomage" - we quit! (It ain't all plain sailing... part 38)
Oh horror! - 5 days before Christmas we are informed by the Canal Authority (The VNF) that there is to be another "Chomage" (I've just discovered the correct spelling!). Once again, the canal between the locks in either direction of us, has to be emptied for serious repair work. We must choose between resting on the canal bottom, tilting as before, at an angle, until March (2012) or sailing off to somewhere else for the remainder of the winter where we can stay afloat. This is the second time in the last three months - the first time being for only one week.
It's a nuisance but we decide to winter in Caumont just as we did last year when we suffered the same fate. We set sail on the 4th January with our guests, Clive and Aileen, (My Son and daughter-in-Law) who arrive in Bordeaux, after an exciting journey from Colorado via Yorkshire via Derry, the evening before. They have a hired car, a "Twingo" with a GPS system on board which proves very useful for their short stay and we drive it down to Caumont to await our eventual arrival on "Body and Soul". Our much loved 2CV Van ("Mange Toot") is to be collected later.
The canal trip to Caumont, normally, takes half a day by canal and about twenty minutes by road but we dawdle as we pick up fallen branches from canal side to augment our existing stock of winter logs.
Free central heating from the canal-side plane trees, is something which gives us great pleasure. It keeps both of us warm and fit. Clive and Aileen are a wonderful help and we take full advantage of them as crew, arriving on "Body and Soul" in Caumont, late afternoon, with piles of winter fuel on our roof deck, ready for sawing up into logs. It's enough for the rest of the winter.
Eating, drinking, talking, laughing and going places, form a large part of their five day visit, which we thoroughly enjoy. We haven't seen them for three years but catch up with everything - sadly, in such a short time.
But, brilliant! there's an excuse to delay the start of my annual austerity program until their departure. (28 days, normally starting Jan 1st - now Ten days to go at the time of writing!)
At least my home-brew has had time to mature to its optimum condition for once. Mark and Charles, our next door bargees, say that it's "like nectar" (the bastards!) and I have ordered an emergency supply of home-brew kits from the UK in anticipation of sudden increase in consumption after 6th Feb. Mark has joined in the home brewing bug which makes the postage from the UK less painful at 12.50GBps. for orders over 70.00GBps. in value. (approx 31p a pint or less with bulk orders)
A generous present of a new DVD audio system for my PC, piano and radio console for my 70th birthday is adding much pleasure to our daily lives and, with Clive's help and technical know-how, I can now record the sound of the piano and post it to this blog (just click on this below, as an early effort with all its mistakes and rather flat tone).
(Just the way you look tonight)
But it really ain't all plain sailing, y'know
Happy birthday to both Gabby and Skya for the 15th and 16th Jan.
Nick and Laura's two daughters who's birthdays I forgot....yuck!
December 27, 2011
So what's with this "hygiene" thing? (It ain't all plain sailing, y'know! (prt 37)
This is sensitive subject and I dare say I open myself for some grief from readers ( probably non-dog owners) who will, of course, base their arguments on their own private and pure habits to which I am not witness.
But we live in a household in the close company of two terrier dogs who, one could say, are "hygienically challenged", to coin a phrase. Much as we love them, only a brief observation of their behaviour shows that they are responsible for much filth that is almost unmentionable in polite society.... but here goes... they attract fleas, they scavenge and eat the most ghastly detritus including dead rats and animal pooh. They never clean their teeth and their breath smells. They tread in the unimaginable and bring it into our boat on their paws. They sleep on our sofa and sometimes our bed. They lick our faces and we stroke them constantly - probably never washing our hands afterwards and so on. Our Jack Russel, (we call him Dr. Spud), insists on licking clean, any of our burns, bites, skin abrasions or other wounds until they stop bleeding and which appear to heal miraculously afterwards.
As an elderly couple, we have yet to catch any recognisable disease or infection from our dogs. I am guessing that other dog owners will make the same claim and that, as far as I know, none of the many visitors to our homes pick up anything nasty - they eat from our crockery, drink from our glasses and fondle the dogs. I assume the same phenomena applies to Cat owners, pet snakes, pet hamsters, birds and so on. Why is this?
Assuming that human beings have always been living in close contact with their animals since God-knows-when - more so then than now - for instance, European farmers kept their animals in stables underneath their living space, using their body heat to keep the floors above warm - and so on.
Clearly, humans have developed a high degree of essential body defences against infection. Could it be that there is a correlation between the huge rise in eczema in children, allergies and asthma (Not forgetting the overall drop in sperm count) with the reduction in animal contact and the excessive attention, now paid in modern homes, to "artificial, chemically induced hygiene" - especially at an early age?
If there is no correlation, then what is the reason for these frightening statistics? http://www.anthrozoology.org/taxonomy/term/17
Some may conclude, that I am wilfully self-deluded after observing the picture below which shows my newly installed canal water filtration system, of which I am rather proud. It has yet to be boxed in.
Canal water is pumped in and flows from right to left through a series of filters and fills our existing stainless steel domestic water tank. I have yet to get it properly tested but hope to become independent of official tap water. My supply will be ready for drinking soon!
Anyone for a sharpener chez nous? Fish like it, so why can't we ? cheers!
(a 70th birthday present from lovely relatives - with thanks)
To all "rellies" and friends.
Have a Healthy and Happy 2012!
December 05, 2011
Blair Hols ruined by Russians? (It ain't all plain sailing y'know! prt 36)
Nearly - but let me explain!
Chateau Sauvin or, as we know it, - "Chez Kelly" - figures quite a bit in our lives over the last three years at Meilhan. It is owned by two delightful blokes who run it as a luxury B and B and through various social events, they become friends of ours as with many other local people. It is a natural choice for pool parties, firework nights and other festive occasions - often initiated by them. Their expensive birthday present to me for my 70th - two 40 pint home-brew beer dispensers - is just typical of their generosity and "joie de vivre".
Chateau Sauvin is a perfect location for friends who threatened to visit us as part of their holidays. Its grand gardens slope down to our canal allowing us easy access by barge, the convenience of which, as all safe car drivers would testify, we often take advantage.
Then, Oh horror ! We are appalled at the news! An obviously very rich Russian buyer (an oligarch?) makes an offer which the owners, the Kellys, can hardly refuse and they sell the place within weeks. All bookings are cancelled without notice. For the Blairs and other friends with confirmed bookings as well as us, it causes a great deal more research and stress, at this late stage, before an alternative venue is found. In the middle of the season - everywhere is full. The Blairs seriously suggest cancelling the whole of their holiday.
Typically, Sophie and Steve set about seeking alternatives - urgently - and with their "www" skills to the fore - they finally come up with the answer - they rent a lovely house near Lauzun, with swimming pool and all that young families need. They insist on us joining them for the week. We are unlikely to refuse. One might say it was a sort of holiday within a holiday for us. I take my piano too. The house turns out to be as good as expected and offers every facility that one could possibly want- excepting, in our case, a fridge large enough to house our drinks - the pool is gorgeous - large enough to properly swim in and, at the same time, play with the smallest of children without fear of accident.
So, firstly, a week's camping at Meilhan which included a Jazz Concert in the port, a night market in the village, a visit to an inland beach at the pleasure park in Casteljaloux and a trip to Fontet on Body and Soul where we all swim in the artificial lake with its fountain, rather green looking water and where we build sand castles with the imported sand. Body and Soul takes us back to Meilhan in the evening.
The Blair's second week is spent with their friends in Agen whilst Lucie and I relax into a dreamy summer at the port with occasional visits to and from friends.
Whilst they are in Agen we are invited to Stephen and Janet Campbell's beautiful Manoir near Montflanquin, -(first met them in Wiltshire where I played piano for their birthday party)- A picnic in the garden followed by dinner for ten people and a stay over night. It's a kind of castle with its own tower and man in armour standing guard at the bottom of the classic round tower stairs. An almost medieval atmosphere. Wonderful to meet up again with family Nicks (My Niece), Alex (and their children Emily and Lucie) The weather remains fantastic. I explore the "Moat" with glee...dogs go bonkers with such space to be free. We picnic again for breakfast, talk and laugh a lot before our departure for the rest of the holiday at the rented house..
A pre-70th birthday party for me with a super dinner/barbecue. Lots to eat and drink and fun with the two littles. Sweet of Sophie and Steve, our hosts, to set this up. Cheers! Yet another memorable evening. The weather is good although we have one day when I insist on swimming in pouring rain. It's gorgeously warm in there, despite it. Memorable indeed.
Sophie and Steve grab the opportunity to take a look around this beautiful area of South West France - the Dordogne and Lot-et-Garonne as they have now decided to move to France as a family.. and to meet our friends Caro and Charles Lamb, who joined us for a family barbecue and bring their daughter Zoe and her two lovely children Collie and Grace. Lots of useful information is gleaned which may useful as three weeks of holiday has confirmed the urge, though there are potential dangers when one has two children who have just started school - a dog and cat to bring and a house to sell - in a slack market too. (It really ain't all plain sailing, y'know!) Living in England whilst trying to find the right property in France can be a bit of a nightmare.
We all conclude that it might be better to rent a property in the right area first, say for an exploratory year, in order to get a better understanding of the facilities and options available - schooling etc ...but it doesn't stop them finding an agent and viewing some lovely properties, whilst on holiday, just to get a flavour of what is available. We will see......
More fun back at the hired house
Check out the "Hols with Sophie and Steve" - the Blair holiday album near the top of this page in the left hand column or try....
http://tillersandtastebuds.typepad.com/photos/hols_with_sophie_and_stev/index.html
October 28, 2011
Stick-in-the mud at Meilhan (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know! Pt 35)
A lovely place to stay - contact Jennifer Moss - http://www.bernisson-france.co.uk/
You might be thinking - what with the excitement of my 70th party, the world financial slump and the crisis now enveloping the Euro - that enough was enough for one summer season. But as you know it really isn't all plain sailing. Notification reaches us today - our lovely canal is leaking again and there is going to be an emergency repair just down stream of us. This means that our section (Pound) will be emptied between the two locks, north and south of us.
This time we decide to stick it out, literally, on the bottom. Apparently the pound will be emptied this Monday (31st Oct) We are due to be refloated on the following Thursday - here is a photo of the the same thing which happened last year - you will see a small blue boat in the centre of the left-hand picture, attached to the "floating pontoon" - this is where we will be for about a week - if we're lucky - One year later - 20011 - this is us - for a week.
So we suffer here in the Port of Meilhan, stuck in the mud, for almost a week and on a significant slant to port. But we still have an electricity and water supply and good friends around us.
One of the unexpected benefits of this inconvenienc is the fact that we are able to see the sides of Body and Soul and check whether or not our recent visit to the dry dock in Castelnaudary was successful. Happily we find all the new paint well in tact - phew!
Postscript:
We're safely back on the water and the Canal is full as of 5th November - oops - I forgot - It's Clive's Birthday
Happy birthday Clive
But it really ain't all plain sailing, y'know......
October 20, 2011
Entering antiquity. (It ain't all plain sailing, y'know part 34)
My last day in the "sixty nine club" is celebrated with a stupendous party organised by Lucie. Brilliant!
- have a look at many of the photos by clicking on the album at the top of the left hand column of this page
Cartoon by Rob depicting the Body and Soul Brewery
What starts as my suggestion of "a few friends for dinner" turns out to be a much bigger bash all together. Sixty people descend upon Le Porte de Meilhan - Sunday Lunch from 1.00pm until an awful lot later. (1am for some!) We drink "Champagne" and taste Lucie's delicious canapees to start with and eat Fish and Chips from a very smart van ("Cod en Bleu" would you believe?) 60 portions of Cod and Chips with the various accompaniments - on the house! - Really first class quality and the best I have ever tasted. We finish off with homemade chocolate brownies with cream - of course.
I am aghast at the number of people who make the effort and comply so well to the 1920's dress code, as suggested, and so pleased to have my Sister Judy, Brother Rob, and daughter Amanda (Moo)(from Peterborough Dover and Barnard Castle respectively.) Numerous other friends turn up in ridiculous garb.
What an effort they make. Lovely telephone messages received and much appreciated from Jake in Vancouver and Clive in Colorado. .
My old friend, Simon Glover, with whom I am gloriously reunited after practically a "post-school lifetime"- arrives from Farnborough and is billeted in the Barge "Pezza" - a few feet away from "Body and Soul". We don't have much time to catch up - but promises to keep in touch are made between laughter and general party chat. I never seem to catch up with anything these days. Is there any hope of improvement? - I think not.
Lucie arranges all their accommodation impeccably. There is, naturally, a party on the Saturday night for those coming from so far and before the main "do". The weather forecast is of some concern but we are blessed on the day, although there are several moments when a trickle of drizzle causes a rush to cover up the band's electronic instruments with canvass sheeting. It's quite warm and pleasant otherwise.
More about the party later... must tell you about one of the many exciting presents I receive - a ticket for 35 minute flight on a "micro-light" shown here. I've just landed and have to tell someone how great it was!
Scroll up to the top left hand column of this page for the new album of party pictures and some more on the micro-flight.
Up in the sky I go with the pilot/instructor sitting in front of me. I am astride on a flying bicycle and feeling a bit like Harry Potter. The take- off run seems only 100 feet and the pilot deliberately swoops close over the heads of his colleagues and the huts which make up the airstrip offices. "He always does this" they tell me afterwards. We are high in the sky within a few breath-taking seconds. I hang on to the seat beneath me unnecessarily - call it "white knuckle syndrome" if you must. It's difficult, at first, to let my hands go free of it.
My instructor shows me how easy it is and soon I am applying both hands to the camera. There is a bit of vibration from the propeller, just inches behind me and photography is not easy. As requested we fly up the canal towards Meilhan so that I can take pictures of "Body and Soul".
The conditions are superb for flying and I don't want this to end. What a beautiful world this is! I take three or four pictures of the Porte De Meilhan and we soon turn for home, taking a circuitous route over towards Marmande.
More and more pictures.... then soon the home airstrip is already in sight.. Then comes the best bit. The pilot - with whom I have every respect - through my earphones - informs me that he is about to turn off the engine and to glide in to land from around 1000 ft. Glorious peace follows for what must have been 2 minutes as we gracefully swoop down, clipping the crop of maize at the edge of the airstrip and a safe landing. Wow! I am elated.
Now, back to the birthday celebrations....what a party we have! Music is created from the roof of Body and Soul by Rob and me playing the old standard jazz numbers with Colin Wilkes on double bass.
Then to the delight and surprise of all, including me, Moo joins in with a few unrehearsed songs. Frankly, I can't remember the order of events which followed - this, perhaps, a function of an excessive consumption of my own home brewed beer (housed for general consumption in the back of our van) or a surfeit of fish 'n chips - but we are all delighted to have Charlie Smith and his friend Antony who sing their young hearts out with such confidence and talent. We are all priviledged to be in their presence. I hope the "hat", passed round, made it all worthwhile. In between acts Lucie puts on carefully chosen 1920's background music. Perfect!
Anyway....more later given the chance....
July 05, 2011
July 01, 2011
So what's new? (It ain't all plain sailing y'know! - part 32)
Golden Oriole http://www.rspb.org.uk/wildlife/birdguide/name/g/goldenoriole/index.aspx
and then, equally, the Hoopoe and Nightingale.
Hoopoehttp://www.rspb.org.uk/wildlife/birdguide/name/h/hoopoe/index.aspx
Nightingalehttp://www.rspb.org.uk/wildlife/birdguide/name/n/nightingale/index.aspx
...and the Cranes in flight
Flock of common Craneshttp://www.rspb.org.uk/wildlife/birdguide/name/c/crane/index.aspx
I am just trying to get good at importing sounds to my blog - to share, more to come!
But it ain't all plain sailing, y'know!
And a very happy birthday to Cameron
June 06, 2011
Wot! No paint? (It isn't all plain sailing y'know - part 31)
The trip as far as Toulouse is outstandingly pleasant both in terms of the weather, the places we go to and the people we meet. However, carefully laid plans to pick up bro' Rob at the Toulouse Lock just outside the airport bus terminal at Toulouse, are thwarted by a strike by the French lock keepers.
So - cunningly - we decide to go through the locks at Toulouse early and stay the night upstream of the agreed lock / rendez-vous - thus avoiding the strike as much as possible. Frantic text messages instruct Rob to take a walk from the Bus Terminal upstream to where we are waiting, having returned to this spot early that morning after our night at Ramonville where we needed to check-out facilities.
The strike still affects us by half a day's sailing at least. We manage to do a mere 12 klms until being forced to stop at the next lock at Castanet (PK15). We have to stay, reluctantly, until noon the following day when the strike is over. But we have no trouble making the best of the time forced upon us. There's time to relax. But our appointment with the dry dock and our time with Rob's precious help is thus curtailed somewhat.
"Aurigny" tied up with us in the Port de l'Embouchure, (the big "pond" at Toulouse where the Canal Du Midi begins and is joined by the Canal Lateral a la Garonne)
Peter and Nicky invite us to celebrate the Royal Wedding which we watch, practically all day, on their huge screen. Then dinner, etc etc....Note the celebratory lights. What a wonderful occasion.
e, Nicky, Peter and their daughter Laura on deck of Aurigny having an aperitif after THE wedding (29th April).
A floodlit view of where the two canals meet
Arrival at Castelnaudary is windy but fine and we make it on May 5th, complete with Robert and despite the strike.
We steam in to the dry dock in the afternoon and fiddle about with ropes and barge-poles to get ourselves straight and well placed above the concrete plinths which we cannot see but we trust the markings, painted white, on the dock- side. Men from the VNF close the lock gate and lift the sluice gate at the other end, to allow the water to escape and for us to slowly settle down on to dry land. It's a strange and unnatural feeling. But this is it for the next week or so.
An even closer look
Floodlit, Le Port de l'Embouchure, Toulouse, where the two canals meet - showing the entrance to the Canal Lateral a la Garonne on the left - A bridge to the right of the floodlighting, unseen, is the start of the canal du Midi.
We're back at Meilhan right now and enjoying the place we call home, having been away for five months. Our project to repaint "Body and Soul" under the water line has been very successful but we have had some concerns about the rust which may have been caused by electrolysis.
We are seeking advice on the future prevention of this and have already added another magnesium anode which we have hung over the side and attached to the hull with stainless cable... But now it seems, according to admired experts, that we might have to invest in an isolation transformer (ie get rid of the galvanic isolator).... more on this later...but you can guarantee, it isn't all plain sailing, y'know!......
The whole point of this long journey to Castelnaudary (225 x 2 klms) is to scrape and paint our beloved "Body and Soul", thus saving her from any further rust. But there is absolutely no point in rushing things. We enjoy every minute.
Try this link that I found on the web for a more detailed description of the Canal de Garonne. There's even a couple of snaps which include Body and Soul, so it must be quite recent.
April 20, 2011
Brewing Good Beer in France ( It isn't all plain sailing y'know, Part 30)
We're having a cracking time slowly making our way to Castelnaudary.
Started brewing the Woodford's "Admiral's Reserve" 9/03/2011. All malt extract. No sugar needed, but quite expensive per pint. Must find more water bottles to put it all in. Lucie will just have to drink more fizzy water. It's good for her!
Pictured here ravioli stuffed with spinach, more spinach topped with shavings of goats cheese, garnish of balsamic vinaigre
Plan to syphon off into second 25 litre bucket after initial brewing is complete. It Gets rid of most of the sediment.
On 15th, I give it all a big stir. It's on the roof covered with a rug and canvas. Have now bottled it and added 1/3 of t/spoon of cane sugar per litre. Approx. I may have brewed it all too cold but next time will be warmer.
Took the van back to Meilhan followed by Bob on his super motor bike, to take me back to Caumont. Much laughter at my expense. It certainly took less time to get back, to say the least.
Me on Rob's bike having delivered the Van back to Meilhan.
The Body and Soul Brewery with about 40 pints of Munton's Heavy brewing as at 22/04/011
Locally grown asparagus topped with crushed feta cheese
Departed Caumont at 3.35pm on 21st March Monday. Weather OK, if a little cool.
First night wild-moored at the lock before Damazan. Now Lovely weather. Moon. Dinner. Wine. Walked the dogs next morning and sawed some new logs which I found in abundance. Stopped in Damazan at our normal position and went to shop in the town.
Had coffee at the road side pub whilst Lucie went to the Boucherie opposite the Casino. We love this Boucherie as much as we love the one at Meilhan.
Chris and Bob are following us up the canal on "Sassi" with my hat which I left on board! Asked them to look out for my club hammer which I left on the bank side at Damazan. They find it the next day and then moor behind us at Seringnac-sur- Garonne where we enjoy free electricity and water. We stay for a few days.
We talked about the "elastic band" driven cars now available and thought we'd look them up on the web. They are very popular in France - no licence needed. Perhaps one day.......
Reached Buzet PM. Stopped for the night opposite the Capitainerie where we paid for WiFi services and take on water. Spoke to Herman the German in his wonderful Chalk. We stay in Buzet for a few days.
Click on map below to see our journey in full clarity....
We've met a lot of new and "old" friends whilst on the move - one of the great features of cruising that we had forgotten since being mainly in Meilhan. A French couple, Alan and Danielle Poujade on "Resa" with whom we have already had lunch at the "Chicken on a Bicycle" - (PK 94, ie on the chart 94 klm from Toulouse) - a delightful converted lock house - and dinner on board their boat, later, in Moissac. Lucie gets chatting to the nice lady who owns the business and books me to play the piano on the weekend of the 21st May. on our return. They have an annual "shin- dig" then apparently. I will be playing from the roof of Body and Soul as we steam in. Subject to the weather.
Return dinner on "B'n S" tomorrow. Alan and Nicky Robinson on "Finca" at Moissac - their Linsen Sturdy - always lovely to see them again. More dinners at each other's. Another interesting couple from Australia - Tony and Rita - have just taken over "Kimasut" - a Piper Boat familiar to us with the previous owners. They are just off to take their "Boat Driving course" but we manage to get them in for a long coffee break before they went - swapping emails and blog addresses "as you do". Then at Moissac whilst in a rush to go out to dinner on "Finca", we briefly meet a lovely couple Mark and Annie on their huge barge "Anna" - have a look at their blog on www.somewhereinfrance.co.uk
We very much hope to meet them properly next time. It is indeed just a long village.!
Anna on her way through the double lock to the Tarn from the port at Moissac.
We have just bumped in to another delightful couple, NewZealanders, Keith and Lynn Milne, (On yet another Linsen Sturdy "Paprica") at the lower lock before Montech. More aperitifs and name swapping.
An English lady, Mandy, and her daughter Maher, arrive on the quay at Moissac on our second day - she's selling her own home grown asparagus - amongst other fresh veg. (cherries soon). Her email address is Ksiawash@yahoo.co.uk for orders. Very good quality and right to your door. We wished her luck in her enterprise. We'll be buying cherries from her on our return journey, if there are any left.
View of the canal junction Montech junction
I am writing this posting whilst moored up at Moissac for a few days. It's Tuesday the 12th. April 2011. We'll be off again on Thursday morning destined for Montech. The weather, on the whole, has been very kind to us with several heat-wave type days. We're both in shorts and these conditions are ideal for brewing beer. This I must now do again because, I am ashamed to say, the first brew - The Woodfords Admiral's Reserve - has already been consumed and never reached its true potential. It went down very well never-the-less.
The Hambleton Bard's Bitter is now resting in bottles but seems flat at the moment. Will take time. It's delightfully "hoppy"
I am using water bottles, screw top, non returnable and plastic, to bottle the beer in. This is a potentially risky idea because of the danger of explosions after priming. But I am being very careful not to prime them too much and I test them every day to release any excess pressure. So far there have been no problems and I am growing in confidence using them, as they do have some advantages, not least of which are cost, convenience and hygiene. To avoid any problems if bottles burst, I am keeping all of them in black plastic dustbin bags...and regularly releasing excess CO2.
I have now bottled 28 litres of the second brew - Hambleton Bard Bitter - which is beginning to show signs of good condition in the bottle. I overdosed the water quantity by mistake but its better to have more than less -I think you'd agree! This particular kit is entirely made from dry malt extract - something I have not come across before and is therefore intriguing. One still has to add cane sugar. I'll try, this time, to let it mature to its best condition which means at least another week's wait "in bottle". It will be appreciated, I'm sure, by Brother Robert who joins us at Toulouse on the 3rd of May.
The third brew, Munton's Heavy, is also new to me though the malt extract is in the more normal liquid malt, pre-hopped form. It is happily bubbling away on the roof of "Body and Soul" as I write this posting. It seems much darker in colour and has been actually more active in the brewing vessel. The weather is kinder for brewing beer.
Together with the delights of fresh spring asparagus - I recommend a look at the following site for any further encouragement which you may need to eat the stuff -
http://www.squidoo.com/asparagushealthbenefits
We (I am!) are now drinking very pleasant Hambleton Bard's Bitter. Others seem to like it very much and I do too although I think it is a little sweet. It is also weaker than prescribed because I mismeasured the amount of liquor needed to make 22.5 litres. It's good quaffing stuff though and have had many complements. I now realise that I added the 2 lbs of sugar required after adding the rest of the liquor - I should have added it with the boiling water to invert the sugar properly. Hey ho. That's why it is sweeter than I would like. I have another pack of the stuff. It has the advantage of being quite light for postage purposes.
Solving the water filtration problem....is my next blog subject coming soon. I am in touch with a guy called Martin at Silverline who is advising me...more later but his Company's site is:
Pictures to be added soon and much more.....click on each for larger version.
From left to right, Saint Rustice, Emranchement de Montauban at Montech, Dinner at Lacourt St. Pierre, The Royal Occasion at Toulouse Pound, The Kiss, Another one. A tit nesting in the exhaust pipe of a Peniche. The stern of the Peniche.
"Crapau dans le trou" (toad in the hole). Prepared by Peter (of Aurigny) for the Royal celebration Dinner on board Aurigny. .....using Toulouse Sausages....delicious and very British for the 29th of April.
February 25, 2011
Peace with Caumont Natives (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know - part 29)
Again we see and hear the magical sounds of the Cranes returning from their winter in Africa. Are they earlier than normal, I wonder? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_Crane It seems only last week we were watching them going in the opposite direction. Today, thousands are flying over in V formation, way beyond the reach of guns, and upon finding a thermal of warm air, they encircle it, rising upwards with cries of apparent delight. Then they fly off, noisily, restored to their more disciplined "V" formation, towards their breeding wetlands in northern Europe - pure magic!
Charles and Caroline Lamb, our hosts and friends. Their garden plot is beside our temporary mooring by the Canal at Caumont. Their Barge "Connie" is currently under re-furbishment by Charles. They also own the sea going yacht "Itza purla" in which they have sailed the world over. They are joined now by their daughter Zoe and Son-in-law Jay and two Granchildren, Colin and Grace who have just moved in to their new house with Sam the Labrador puppy.
Charles is also a talented writer of Childrens' Books.There is a web site www.tambowthewombat.com Available through Amazon.
Charles and Caroline are selling their yacht "Itza Purla"
http://www.apolloduck.com/advert.phtml?id=179618 Just have a peak, go on!
On these tranquil canal banks where the good Lord delivers abundant fuel for our fire, branches from the plane trees, "en route" to our log basket, are already dead for at least a season, broken from their parental trunks by the wind.
Daily, I shoulder these fallen branches to my home-made log-horse for final attention with a bow-saw. The excercise is good for both me and the dogs. It's free and we are warm.
With such natural blessings bestowed upon us, it might seem churlish to grumble, but - lurking 'neath these dank bankside cloisters - there are competitive, almost Darwinian forces, fighting for survival.
I encounter such competition, early this morning, some distance from our mooring in Caumont as I take the boys for their walk - An old man, obviously of native stock, with Gauloise in mouth, bent, spitting and with a cough to suit - he is collecting the same bounty!
From his demeanour, I suspect he speaks no language other than his own and I approach warily. He has a trug - that is, a kind of dustbin on wheels - and a rusty saw. He is collecting the very wood that I had "bar-coded" yesterday - metaphorically speaking - claiming it as my own - for collection today. He is cutting it up and taking away the very basis of our central heating, for his own.
"Bonjour!" I say, fluently, offering him at the same time, the large branch of plane tree on my shoulder, as a token of peace. We smile - he with the smile of the righteous and I, that of the poacher and vanquished. I wish him "Bonne journee" and he shuffles off to pastures new, leaving me with a pile of saw dust.
You see, It really isn't all plain sailing, y'know, is it?
The Caumont mooring with Body and Soul,
Carol and David Harris on Minute with Billy.
Note: Click on any of these pictures for a decent size to look at.
"Connie" under re-furbishment by Charles
Meilhan without water
and Zoe and Sam
February 14, 2011
On the waggon with lurgie (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know - Part 28)
It's a hard winter so far with a lot happening "on the down-side" of comfort. Worst of all, the sad news from my old school pal, Simon Glover, that his wife Valerie has died, mid January, after a protracted and extraordinarily brave battle against the big "C". Our thoughts are with Simon and his family, all present at her bedside and her funeral which happens in Farnborough on the 27th January. I feel guilty at not being there.
Grumpy 'ole git (Taken by George Smith, ex- friend, the swine!)
It's been really abnormally cold and damp. Everyone seems to have caught some bug or other and both Lucie and I have taken our turn with the lurgie. On top of this I have been suffering self-imposed abstinance. Just as last year, not a drop of booze has passed my lips for the 31 days of January. I sleep much better but the advantages of imposing such pain on oneself is for a psychological reason as well as for the obvious, though perhaps temporary, health benefit.
To Lucie's horror, I have turned over a new leaf and ordered 90 GDP's worth of home-brew kits which should cross the Channel some time in March with our friends Bob and Christine (from the great ship Sassy now moored without water in Meilhan) The engine room and the gap behind the sofa and beside the bed, are all taking on a new and important role. The amount I am brewing initially will be about 280 pints - only a gallon short of a brewer's barrel (288 pints!) - anything to improve upon the Eurofizz suffered to-date. Guests at my 70th birthday party will have bottles of "Grumpy 'Ole Git" presented to them - at least, that's the plan. It's worth mentioning that it is our 17th wedding anniversary (10th September 1994) - so all in all, it could be a good do.
"Body and Soul", with "Minute" in persuit en route to Caumont where they will both pass the rest of the winter in the company of our hosts Charles and Caroline Lamb on "Connie". During the "chomage", this section of the canal is completely emptied out to give access for maintenance.
"Minute" with David and Carol Harris, steaming up behind us
Getting ready to leave the dry dock at Castelnaudary on our previous visit three years ago when we shared the dock with Vertrowen
The lovely Dr. Honore, our local GP, sees us today 7/02/011 by appointment to review our blood test results. To our delight she gives Lucie a "Gold star" for her results which are all excellent. I too have compliments and good news in general although I must cut out butter and any other saturated fats. My good cholesterol HDL is very good but the LDL - that's the bad one - is on the high side. However I get gold stars for my efforts to lose weight which is down to 94kgm. from 103kgms last time in November. She doesn't like my plans to brew my own beer though and I am required to see her again in six months by way of punishment after a further blood test. No diabetes though - yippee!
We go home, with our tails up, for a rewarding glass of red. It's good for the liver, they say.
My hyercinth sculpture - green fingers or what?
By the way, we are now on "Facebook" - click on:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=51826&l=3682db7075&id=1790747326
Two new dining room chairs from Ikea which give us much more room than the old bucket arm chairs
We plan to set off from our mooring at Caumont on Sunday March 20th for a leisurely journey to the dry dock at Castelnaudary where we will be pressure-washing, scraping and painting our hull for the second time in just over three years. Body and Soul is booked in for two weeks from the 4th May and we will be on our own this time, without our friends George and Sue on Vertrowen. However we do have the help of my Brother Rob who is scheduled to land at Toulouse on the 3rd of May, where we will pick him up from the airport bus terminal, conveniently placed 50 yards from the canal. This gives us an easy two days to complete the 65Kms to Castelnaudary, arriving in the afternoon of the 4th May.
More for my benefit than for the reader's, (if indeed there is one!), we will be passing through the following main towns, (marked in bold):
Please note that to read the map below properly you MUST click on it to enlarge.
From Caumont on the Canal lateral de la Garonne
Le Mas-D'Agenais (4kms and 1 lock)
Villeton (11kms - 2 locks)
Damazan (20kms - 4 locks)
Buzet (24kms - 4 locks)
Agen (52kms - 11 locks)
Valence D'Agen (79kms - 14 locks)
Malhause (86kms - 17 locks)
Moissac (95kms - 19 locks)
Castelsarrasin (104kms - 26 locks)
Montech (116kms - 34 Locks)
Grisolles (133kms - 35 locks)
Toulouse ( 160 kms - 47 locks)
continuing on the Canal Du Midi from Toulouse
Montgiscard (181kms - 54 locks)
Port Lauragais (210kms - 66 locks)
Castelnaudary ( Total Journey = 225 kms - 73 locks)
In between these towns there are ample opportunities for beautiful wild moorings which I am sure we will be taking, however, I have an appointment with my dentist at Castelsarrasin to which I am not looking forward with much relish - another one gone!
This episode in our travels is different because we may well be travelling when the canal water temperature is low and therefore relatively more dangerous. Falling off the boat is a much more serious affair at our age and not recommended, particularly when it is cold. We will be taking extra precautions both with our own safety but also with the dogs - but there you go, it really isn't all plain sailing, y'know, is it?
January 02, 2011
Seasonal Cheer from Meilhan(It isn't all plain sailing, y'know - part 27)
Click here, minimise, and listen whilst reading the text Download 07 In the Bleak Midwinter We understand from afar (through BBC Radio 4) that you are having a bit of a cold spell in the UK - but although we can't claim the degree of disruption to our lives that you must be experiencing this November and December we have had unusually low temperatures wallowing around freezing, the occasional light dusting of snow and an unusual amount of hard rain. It is very damp but we have abundant food, logs for the Jotul wood burner, diesel fuel if needed and, so far, an uninterrupted electrical and water supply. We can use our small generator if the electrical supply fails.
Download 05 O Little Town of Bethlehem Another glorious carol click here!
Spud and Teds are well pleased with the new sleeping arrangements, (namely, the sofa!) in front of the fire which stays alight all night and is supplemented by the central heating in exreme circumstances.
Our plans for the Christmas season start with a flying 4 day visit to Sophie and Steve and Lucie's Grandchildren, Charlie and Max. (It's their turn but we wish we could do more!) All being well and subject to a
gamble on a rather unseemly weather forecast, we return on 20th December for Christmas and the New Year on "Body and Soul" meanwhile the dogs will be looked after by our kind neighbours whilst we are away.
We are all very healthy, active and happy and have a lot for which to be thankful. We hope all our friends and "rellies", who read this, are too - and we earnestly wish you all.......
Download 16 O Come All Ye Faithful
A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Our skype address is Lucie.Malcolm.Walker (Recommended - it's free!)
Email us on tillersandtastebuds@yahoo.com (also free)
Our snail address is:
Malcolm and Lucie Walker
Body and soul
C/ol Minervois Cruisers
Port De Meilhan
47180 Meilhan sur Garonne
France
You can now see our facebook presentation/photos etc on:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=51826&l=3682db7075&id=1790747326
More is inevitable!
PS. From time to time, the Canal Authorities (The VNF) have to empty parts of the Canals for maintenance purposes and our section will be without any water in it after 7th of January 2011 until the 7th March.
Not unreasonably we have decided to move house ("Body and Soul")to a section which has got water in it before that date! This means a short journey through a few locks to a mooring at the pretty little village called Caumont. We plan to leave on the 3rd or 4th January. Our address will remain at Meilhan however - for any snail-mail. It will be collected by us in our van twice a week.
After "le chomage" and sometime in April, we will be making our chilly way eastwards through Toulouse to Castelnaudary (about 220 klm) where we have booked ourselves in to the dry dock from May 4th for two weeks and where we will paint our bottom and sides. We look forward to this and a continuation of our adventures and our eventual return to Meilhan in time for the summer months after a leisurely journey via the river Lot, perhaps, or another attempt at the river Baise.
....but it's never plain sailing, y'know, is it?
Hope you enjoyed the above favourite toons!:
Read on, scroll down for news of what happened to us on our Christmas visit to Trowbridge
January 01, 2011
..Just straws in the wind (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know - part 26)
From our arrival on the 16th, we have a lovely time with Steve and Sophie and their two children, Charlie and Max. It's a pre-christmas Christmas, complete with tree, presents, lovely food and wine. All in their house in the lovely old village of Steeple Ashton. We thoroughly appreciate being spoiled.
Mother nature decides, meantime, to have a bit of a strop and we realise that over-night we have become insignificant straws in the wind and at her mercy.
It's now the 20th of December and we're sitting in an over-crowded train at Bristol Temple-Mead station waiting for some positive sign of movement in the Trowbridge direction - an unscheduled but - come to think of it - unsurprising deviation from our plans.
So we lost the gamble we made on the weather and despite having checked in our luggage and watching our Easyjet plane being de-iced and prepared for us on the runway, the return flight to Toulouse departing at 10.30am - ours is the first of many flights to be cancelled that day.
So here we are, slightly fed up but stoical and resigned, clutching our re-claimed baggage, two bottles of duty-free whisky and a piece of paper from Easyjet, explaining how to get our money back or take a later flight - if we are lucky - the earliest one being the 27th December. A week hence! It is snowing. The train doors remain open and there is no heating.
There are many other people on the train too, who would have been elsewhere but for the bad weather. Conversation starts between complete strangers. Whisky, crisps and a twix chocolate bar are offered for sharing amongst people with a common suffering. There is a very British, almost war-time, atmosphere.
"Ding dong" goes the tannoy and on comes - a kindly west-country voice which says -
" our apologies, Ladies and gentlemen, this is your guard speaking. The reason we have not been able to leave the station on time is because although we have a guard - that's me - unfortunately, our scheduled driver is stuck in a snow-drift somewhere in Wales - so we are having to find another one from somewhere else. Let's hope he knows the way! I will keep you informed and would ask for your continued patience....etc"
Within half an hour, another driver is found and those who have left the train to find warmth elsewhere are shepperded back on-board to rejoin the party. For some reason our French Mobile refuses to work - even to send a text message - and the lady, sitting opposite, kindly offers her mobile for us to ring Sophie and Steve to warn them of our second coming. Poor dears.
The next 24 hrs becomes a furious nightmare of discord and uncomfortable decision making together with considerable expertise on the internet. Other relatives are soon to arrive. Should we tap other friends for what might be an extended stay over Christmas and possibly the new year too? Our own house and dog-sitters have to be considered. The forecast for the following week is grim. Should we bite the bullet and catch a ferry from Portsmouth? - whilst the railways are relatively on schedule, then hire a car for the long drive South. Our budget is well and truly shot already. We stay another night and sleep on it.
Next day, we make the decision to catch the night Ferry from Portsmouth to Caen where we hire a Fiat Punto at enormous expense.
The train to Portsmouth from Trowbridge - also without heating - is freezing. It's a two hour journey with only our own sandwiches as sustenance. The glorious English countyside, for the most part, is soon forgotten as we delve into the suburbs of Portsmouth. What a dreadful dump it is, viewed from the train. The toilets at the station, Portsmouth Harbour, are truly the most disgusting I have ever seen. One doesn't need to know the detail - but really shocking - someone should be sacked!
We are wisely but hopelessly early and spend an uneventful and rather tiresome day at a bright and modern shopping centre just by the Quay, buying underpants at Marks and Spencers. Eventually we walk at least two miles from there to the Brittany Ferry Terminal, like impoverished refugees, dragging our belongings behind us but without a donkey cart. We board the Saint Michel at 9'45pm and sail an hour later, watching the whole loading and sailing off process, albeit in the dark, from the piano bar drinking some more of our own whisky.... (this bar has a smart piano but no pianist - of course.)
It's a night crossing on a "luxury" cruise liner and we book our "reclining" seats for the night - all cabins are full. The seats are very uncomfortable - "Reclining" indeed! Even the tower of Pisa inclines more than these - be warned! - they are more like posh deck-chairs. But the crossing is otherwise smooth - for which Lucie is thankful. We treat ourselves to steak and chips in the canteen.
"You sure know how to spoil a girl" says Lucie. I am duly ashamed.
We are brutally awoken at 5.30am with the full glare of the lights being turned on. We struggle one by one to the toilets each one guarding the luggage in turn. It's a minimal French breakfast and I'm really struggling without Marmite! But hey?
All coaches to the centre of Caen are cancelled because of thick snow, thick fog and ice, we join the freezing queue for the sole taxi. We finally pick up a Punto (not a penguin) from Europcar and I drive the 700klm South in a blizzard chased by a snow storm. We arrive home at about 6pm. Job done. But....
It really isn't all plain sailing, y'know - is it?
October 10, 2010
Pass the Marmite (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know - part 25)
Breakfast conversation is always important on board "Body and Soul". Decisions about what we do each day are made over porridge, tea, toast and Marmite, marmalade, fruit and yoghourt etc - and, on Sundays, we delight in "the full-monte" (ie bacon, egg and tomato or similar.) as we listen to what the world outside is doing, by courtesy of digital Radio 4.
Spud and Teddy, who look forward to this routine, enjoy toast and Marmite tit-bits. Begging is forbidden of course. Would you believe that we have been eating fresh local strawberries even now - in late October! They are delicious.
Here's Pierre (retired restaurateur and fisherman) who comes from Bordeaux every day to fish at Meilhan.
Yesterday, for instance, during breakfast we talk about our aging physiques and minor ailments and what we are going to do about them. The French health service has been sending us reminders about the various tests they like to perform on the "elderly" - prevention is better than cure ..and all that.
We are both becoming more aware of our age. I was made more conscious of this when yesterday I couldn't make the new egg-timer work without my glasses. There are constant reminders of this inevitable process. It's all going to be up-hill and we have to be sensible about what to expect. But it's more important not to worry about it and to enjoy the life that we lead to the full. It is comforting to know that we are definitely in the right place to do that.
View of our winter mooring
My lemon tree which we have grown from a small cutting,
We must put it inside for the winter
A view of our garden from the roof of Body and Soul
Signs of autumn
We plan a visit to Marmande market in "Bumble", our much loved van which I have now repainted and repaired after a couple of posts, embedded in concrete, had an argument with Lucie as she reversed out of the post office car park.
Lucie has just returned from a fortnight of caring for grand-children in Wiltshire and we need to restock the fridge after my efforts to stay alive during her absence.
We take the dogs with us - they love to stick their noses out of the windows on either side as we streak along at 30 mph, "en route" to Marmande. Then we enjoy a morning walk in the secret garden that I have found quite near to the market square. The French are so good at looking after their public spaces, just as they are bad - as another pertinent generalisation - at looking after their private houses. This particular secret garden has a small river running through it and several streams with tasteful paths, many mature trees of various common varieties and plenty of bird life. It just isn't the ubiquitous municipal park! We meet no-one else although on market day, perhaps that is not surprising. We return to Meilhan after having a cafe creme at our usual bar, looking out on to the market place, loaded with fresh fruit and veg. for the week. A lovely start to Saturday on a dramatically colourful autumn morning.
Talking of drama.... In late September, brother Robert and Di come to stay on board for five days, carrying relief supplies of Marmite from the UK, having driven down from Dover in their car. One of the features of their stay is our trip in Body and Soul to Lagruere which is a very small village East of us by some 15 kilometres - Not a stressful journey with only 4 locks. We have a delightful dinner at the canal side restaurant there and return the next day after a free mooring just beside the restaurant, for the night. The weather is fine and an early start for the trip back is peaceful enough, enveloped as we are, in beautiful autumnal scenes whilst we chug slowly back to Meilhan.
Then, just past the lock at Caumont, with Rob at the tiller, there is a serious bump and horrible scraping sound beneath us. Body and Soul is not happy but appears to be undamaged by the experience which we put down to, possibly a sunken supermarket trolly. She continues apparently unharmed and eventually we reach home base with no more incidences.
Upon our return we hear that Doug and Sally whom we have only just passed, going in the opposite direction in their boat, Poseidon, have hit the same object and, because of their deeper draft, are stuck fast - they are neither able to move forward nor aft. They ring Mike at the Capitainerie as a first attempt to enlist help to extract themselves from the middle of the canal. Mike then calls Lucie to help with his call, in French, to the Canal Authorities - the VNF. There does indeed appear to be a dangerous object in the middle of the canal which should not be there.
The conclusion of this story is shocking. An army of police, firemen, divers, a large crane and a number of VNF officials, descend on to the site and discover an upturned car in the canal. There is a dead body in it ! Clearly, this is the object that we slid over as we came back to Meilhan. What a drama !
For us it was a lucky escape. Not so, for Doug and Sally in Poseidon and certainly not for the poor guy in the car.
Never mind the Marmite, life really isn't all plain sailing, y'know - is it?
Postscript: Doug and Sally in Poseidon are lifted off the car which was upside down in the canal and find, to their relief, that there is no damage to their boat.
Talking of Marmite - the French just don't know what they are missing. Have they ever tried Marmite on croissants or baguettes with lashings of beurre doux? Delicious! And now we have Nigella Lawson with her great recipe, Spaghetti with Marmite. (click on this for this..) Ok, it's fairly high in salt, but a good dose of Marmite each day gives one plenty of vitamin B12 (good stuff for high alcohol consumption) and for preventing mosquito bites. No?....really! Believe me, it works..
http://tillersandtastebuds.typepad.com/tillers_and_tastebuds/spaghetti-with-marmite.html
s
September 26, 2010
" Immersion Total" (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know - Part 24)
The White-fly pest. (click here for more info) is very annoying this year. There is a plague of them causing "HONEYDEW" - a sticky substance which, apparently, is produced out of their back-ends after they have consumed the sap of their victim plant-host - So we are all covered in s...t! The effect is most noticeable underneath the beautiful plane trees that line the canal on either side. Any object left anywhere near them is covered with this sticky substance which, when dry, is difficult to remove and turns orange and then black. Car and boat owners alike are incandescent with frustration and the trees themselves don't like it either, dropping dead leaves, months earlier than normal. There will be further trouble when the wasps and ants arrive to feed on such a sticky bounty.
What on earth has that got to do with the above title? I hear you say...well, it is a kind of immersion after all and it really follows on from my contention - that despite the glorious weather, lovely wine, lovely fresh food, fresh air, fun and good company - that it isn't all plain sailing is it?....
but then there's another thing.....
Il n'est jamais trop tard pour apprendre! (it's never too late to learn!)
It is clear to me that people learn a new language at different rates depending on the mix of both nurture and genetics (nature). To speak French is really an essential requirement if one intends to fully integrate with the natives. There are many, I know, who think otherwise or believe it too late or too difficult. Any excuse will do.
It is, I suppose, courteous to engage in conversation with the French in their own language. One must try! ..but to-date, I readily admit to being dependent upon Lucie's bilingual fluency to cope in all but the basic social niceties. I live in awe of her very natural abilities, born of a bilingual education at the French Lycee in London. Having a wife who can speak French fluently is an enormous advantage to the practical aspects involved with living.
It is Lucie who tackles French bureaucracy with great skill and patience in innumerable matters involving licences, medical cards, insurance, banking, travel arrangements and residences and probably a lot more (what else is there?). But if she is not by my side, I am forced to engage my brain instead of relying on hers - thus increasing my ears' ability to listen, my brain to understand and my mouth to convey meaning. Progress is therefore slow, but it behoves me to pass on my experiences to those who struggle or even to those who have given up.
With a long history of schoolboy failure behind me but with a modest vocabulary stuck somewhere in between my ears - and, after five years of living in France with a bilingual wife and some more recent French friends - most of the restrictions and complexes I may have had in the past, have gone. There really is no excuse. I am now improving perceptably (and still making a fool of myself - according to others) but I am determined to do better.
There is a plethora of methods on offer - from computer programs, direct French lessons, reading children's comics, listening to French radio programs, going back to school. All have their good points and a mixture of each seems to be the way to go. My English/French dictionary - "Le Robert & Collins" (only 35E) http://www.lerobert.com/ is now constantly by my side. This imposing tome is worth more than any electric gadget and better than what can be fished up by trawling through the web.
I am particularly blessed to have the help of a real live mentor, Jean-Noel. He and I spend several hours a week under what he calls "Total Immersion" - or, while we are at it, "Immersion total". This happens at the Capitainerie with coffee, his newspaper and "petites" cigars.
This blog posting may do me good too. It is just another part of the learning process and might well help, if not amuse, other "Brits", in the same predicament. At least it makes me look things up.
Total immersion - the answer?
Grandchildren swim in Jean-Noel's pool
'Total immersion with Professor Jean-Noel, facingI
If the weather is fine, Jean-Noel can be found at the Capitainerie having a morning cafe-creme, sometimes with his newspaper sometimes with his delightful wife Anne Marie. I am not allowed to speak English. If I try, he refuses to understand, even though I know he can speak it quite well. At last I am beginning to use my brain.
But the ability to read and write French clearly requires grammatical skills. To speak it, arguably, does not. But to converse with fluency and to be able to understand it in depth, spelling, vocabulary and grammar, I believe, are important for advancement. I find the afore-mentioned dictionary invaluable for this, especially the section which deals with the conjugation of irregular verbs - the curse of any language. I must learn all the irregular verbs and how they are conjugated. It will be worth it.
Jean-Noel is as patient as a saint. Every time I try to say something in French he corrects me and makes me repeat it, over and over again. Then we try alternative ways of saying the same thing, colloquially.
If there is one phrase which I find has helped me enormously it is this -
"Il faut que j'aille promener les chiens" - (I must go and walk the dogs) -
Just to be able to say the phrase exactly right and quickly, is a triumph to me and gives me an amazing boost in confidence. I now spout it out whenever I can however relevant it is to what I am doing or to whom I am speaking and with or without the presence of my two dogs. It makes for much laughter and praise.
Developing this phrase goes further........
"Hier, Il a fallu que j'aille promener les chiens" (Yesterday, I had to walk the dogs)
and then again:
"Demain, il faudra que j'aille promener les chiens" (Tomorrow I have to walk the dogs)
Now this is a clear example of how French is confusing when dealing with irregular verbs. There is no direct translation to English. By discussing this with Jean-Noel, and after several rehearsals, I manage to remember all three phrases without any knowledge of the grammatical niceties or even the verb that I am using, but I still know what to say in French and to convey meaning. This is why it is not sensible to try to translate French directly into English before speaking. As the prof. keeps reminding me "Pas de traduction!" (No translation!) He insists.
In fact to my surprise, after looking up the irregular verbs in my "tome" I discover the verb "falloir" which might seem to the uninitiated, to have precious little to do with any of the above useful phrases. Jean-Noel is dead right. "Pas de traduction"!
Zut allors! "Faut, Fallu, Faudra" what's that got to do with "Falloir"? Don't ask me but he's right of course.
"Falloir" Indeed ! it roughly means "to need" but its uses and phrases in this dictionary cover a whole page in small print.
"Il faut etre fou pour parler comme ca" (You must be mad to talk like that)
"Il faut de tout pour faire un monde" (It takes all sorts to make a world!)
Now we're talking, but it really isn't plain sailing, y'know, is it?
(Maintenant nous parlons ensemble mais tout ne marche pas comme sur des patin a roulettes, n'est ce pas?)
Note - and there's another reason for not translating exactly! - "patin a roulettes" means roller-skates!
Just by way of a break, have a look at the following links for all you need to know about the canals we live on.
Les Canaux Entre Deux Mers
These two Canals, Le Canal Lateral a la Garonne and Le Canal du Midi - meet at Toulouse - the former connects north-westward from Toulouse to the Atlantic Ocean at Bordeaux and the latter, Eastward from Toulouse, to the Mediterranean at Marseillan.
I have below inserted some useful links about both Canals - Entre deux Mers.
Le Canal Lateral a la Garonne (the canal we are on at the moment)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canal_de_Garonne
Le Canal Du Midi (Linking ours with the Med.)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canal_du_Midi
Sight seeing
http://www.creme-de-languedoc.com/Languedoc/sightseeing/canal-du-midi.php
Sue Kibbey singing at the "Jazz au Port" with me accompanying.
George Smith, my agent. An accomplished professional musician playing at the "Jazz au Port"
August 16, 2010
Frothy Days (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know - part 24)
I really can't remember most of June, July and August. I ask Lucie, who is in charge of my diary, exactly what has been going on. To me, the past two months are blurred together into one continuous stream of pleasurable activities with other people playing the most important part.
In short, we had visits from Jake, Rosemary, Emily and Cameron then Amanda and Alan with Harry and Lois. Our double family tent was handy at the camp site just by our mooring. Within their visits there were plenty of things to do as one can imagine and it was good to see them all looking so well. Much fun was had by all. Fresh air, fresh food and plenty of lovely wine to drink.
There were several boat trips and bar-be-cues as well as swimming and visits here and there to various attractions.
We also attended the Monsegur Jazz festival and did a couple of Jazz sessions on the Port which were very enjoyable and likely to be repeated soon.
Please note
There is a photo. album of their visits on the top left hand side/column of this page which is yet to be completed. Its title is "Frothy Days" Just click on it for an idea of how they all are. There are photos of Lucie's grandchildren - Charlie and max - as well. I struggle with the programme. Many more to come....
It really isn't all plain sailing y'know.
Billy is our new neighbour owned by David and Carol o narrow boat called "Minute". They will be our neighbours this coming winter.
Billy is three months old, sitting on a fender here. He is half poodle and half terrier. An absolute delight. Carol looks on from behind.
August 10, 2010
A trip too far (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know - part 23)
Chez Kelly (www.chezkelly.eu) is a Chateau owned by our two friends, Keld and Brendan. They run a very upmarket Guest House business in what is also their home. There are splendid views of the great river Garonne. The Chateau is beautifully appointed with many facilities including a large swimming pool and tennis court, set in rolling parkland and gardens flowing down to the canal, where a small pontoon provides guests with the possibility of a boat trip on one of the most beautiful sections of the Canal Lateral a la Garonne. Guests are offered bed and breakfast and free use of all these facilities but other meals are only provided if specially arranged.
The proprietors involve themselves very much with each of their guests and when a family wants a river trip, with dinner provided on board, we are asked if we'd like to provide such an experience. We jump at the chance. This is where the story really starts.
We welcome three of their guests aboard with an aperitif on the "poop deck". Lucie has everything ready.
The table is beautifully laid for three.
The menu is well researched and even includes dishes for one vegetarian. At 7pm my role as "Captain" comes into force and with my captain's hat on, I take charge and we cast off from the pontoon and, with a "toot" on our horn, proceed in the direction of Bordeaux with the intention of turning round at the village of Hure. This is a trip of 4 kilometres. Dinner is to be served on the return journey starting at about 7.50pm. It's a beautiful trip and a beautiful evening.
A beautiful trip...Yes. this canal is as wide as we are long and sometimes it can prove to be ones undoing......
Upon reaching Hure earlier than we expected, I take a unilateral decision to extend the trip further in the same direction. Our guests seem to be enjoying themselves, so why not? My rather vague plan is to find a turning point somewhere close to the lock and further downstream of the village. But being 60 feet in length (18 metres), "Body and Soul" needs at least this amount of space within which to turn. The canal, for the most part, is too narrow but there are usually plenty of places where one can nudge one's bow into the soft grass slopes in order to turn. So I take what I consider to be a minor risk with some confidence - misplaced as I am soon to find out.
Baked feta, garlic, cayenne, peppers, oil - first course.
We sail past the agreed turning point at Hure on our way to the lock with no doubts about the success of this dinner trip. Things are going splendidly. Everybody is happy. We dream of making this into a small business say twice a week? - with a reasonable charge - to supplement our state pension - we have visions of wealth and glory untold.
Readers will doubtless guess the rest of the story. There are no turning points for barges of our length after Hure until one has gone through the lock. A distance of perhaps one kilometre. In fact the canal has metal sides all the way to the lock from the village of Hure. We soon discover this when we try to turn just before it. There's no way - and the lock is long closed at 7pm.
Just a view of summer life at the Port of Meilhan sur Garonne, taken from Body and Soul, showing our pontoon, our garden, some of the Minervois Cruisers and the Capitainerie in the background.
Faced with this situation and after trying several times to turn without success using the barge pole and with help from the only male guest, Lucie suggests that our guest's dinner will be spoilt if we don't start the first course soon and that we should tie up on the pontoon before the lock and she should start serving it now. Good idea, I say! But any promises we made for a session of romantic piano music during the dinner are now shelved indefinitely as I am heavily engaged in problems of a more pragmatic nature.
not forgetting the rest of the crew who had nothing to complain about
(click on any of the photos to enlarge)
This is rapidly developing into "Fawlty Towers" on water. "Everything's under control, will passengers kindly return to their seats!" - I could have done with a tannoy system for public announcements.
Whilst our guests settle into their dinner, I take a desperate but quick walk back towards Hure along the bank to examine all possibilities. Surely there must be a hole in the bank somewhere? - there isn't even a kink for at least a quarter of a mile.
I endeavour to make our barge just a couple of feet shorter by removing the stern fender, a strange rope object which protrudes out at the back and protects the rudder from collision damage from the rear. This procedure would normally be carried out in dry dock but, bravely, I hang on to the tiller with one hand and, with the other, manage to undo the shackles with a pair of pliers to release the chains which hold it in place. Bad move! I'd forgotten the other chains which hold it down from underneath the water line.
The fender, now relieved of its upper connections, slips down to entangle itself with the rudder, rendering "Body and Soul" impossible to steer. I am perspiring profusely with the effort and in need of a glass of beer.
At this point, Lucie floats up on deck, to find out how my plans are working. She is looking lovely as ever, dressed for the occasion as "hostess with the mostest". A fine linen tunic and trousers, silver-thong sandals and, of course, her signature silver dangling earrings. With her mass of well groomed hair blowing in a rapidly rising wind she finds it noticeably cooler. But the guests are happy with everything although I detect an element of concern creeping in about the prospect of being stuck at this lock over night. Their laughter grows more hollow by the minute. There is a plane to catch in the morning. But at this point it remains just a ghastly possibility which we cannot even contemplate. Our reputation is clearly on the line. One just couldn't make this up.
I manage to secure the back fender temporarily and, as the ex-leader of the Peewit patrol in the 16th Epping Forest South Troup (Be Prepared!), I lash it with a piece of string to the tiller and am thus able to steer the boat, in a restricted kind of way. There is now absolutely no chance of taking emergency action if called upon on our eventual return journey.
As all barge owners, without bow-thrusters, will be aware, it is impossible to steer a barge in reverse gear using the rudder. Bow thrusters do help considerably but without them one can only steer by firstly establishing as much backward motion as possible and then adjusting the direction of the vessel by going into forward gear and using the rudder "hard-over" which ever way is required. It's a skillful but painfully slow process at the best of times but the alternatives in this case are unthinkable. I discuss my desperate plan with Lucie.
Now our lovely hostess is on the rough canal path, still in full evening wear, with two ropes in her small hands - One from the bow and one from the middle of our barge - her role is to keep us straight against the wind which is blowing us away from the bank, whilst I attempt to reverse and steer astern towards Hure or to the nearest possible turning point that we find. All this is happening in full view of our guests who are finishing their delicious tarte tatin, wondering about their coffee and staring in disbelief into the growing gloom through the saloon windows.
For four hundred yards we slowly edge backwards. The engine revs are noisily going up and down whilst I struggle for control. Lucie's face is a picture and, believe me, she is not smiling. We finally find a niche where the canal will allow us to turn and our nightmare is nearly over. Lucie climbs aboard and is justly rewarded with great cheers from her three guests and we turn around with inches to spare. The wind drops mercifully but it is now dark and we set off for home with all lights ablaze. Our guests finish their coffee on the poop deck with us, straining their eyes at the approaching and dimly lit plane trees, no doubt wondering how I could possibly see anything at all.
If only they knew ...... still, it's never plain sailing y'know - is it?
Postscript
We arrived safely in Port at 11.00pm. and hear from our friends, the proprietors, next day that their (and our) guests were more than pleased with the experience and the superb food on "Body and Soul" and that we should have charged for the excellent entertainment! QED.
June 01, 2010
Making the French smile (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know - No. 22)
Both our regular readers will remember that we drove to France in our beloved 2CV van in April 2006, following "Body and Soul" (our new barge home) perching, as she was, on a very large lorry. The dear thing - the van I mean - works perfectly all the way down to its destination only to collapse with exhaustion upon arrival in Burgundy - at Lucie's family home. We launch our boat and our new life on the French waterways. We leave her there in a dry barn until a decision is made about her future. Loved but redundant to our needs.
"Body and Soul" on her way to France from a UK marina
We make that decision in April this year, four years later and with the help of a friend with a Range Rover and trailer make the eight hour trip (either way) northwards to fetch her. We find her where we left her with nothing but a few bat droppings and a load of dust on her, one flat battery and one flat front tyre. Otherwise she seems to be in a healthy state.
Struggling with a problem before the departure for France - involving a home made crane, a rubber hose and you just don't need to know - it wasn't hydraulic anyway.
It is quite extraordinary the effect one has, driving one of these "Deux Chevaux" in France where, especially in the southern parts, they are treated with affection bordering on reverence. Now that we are based at Meilhan, long term, it is lovely not to be dependent others and public transport, or our bikes, in order to get around and in such a famous but crazy vehicle.
This is taken on the day we left St. Margaret's Bay, Nr. Dover, for France, in April 2006 - outside brother Rob's - The Deck House - after our grand farewell tour of close Rellies....
On our way with a lot of beers from Earl Soham Brewery, Suffolk. Brother Rob's impressions.
When one passes people on the street they wave and smile and one toots the horn. When one stops to park, people flock around and indulge in reminiscences. When one raises the bonnet to fine-tune the engine, up comes someone who knows so much more about how the damn thing works. They love the fact that we are British and are driving one of their precious and uniquely French cars. "They don't make cars like that any more!" is often said rather wistfully - in French of course. There's absolutely nothing digital about her for sure,
One man even snatches my special tuning screwdriver (George, friends on Vertrowen, would have been proud of me - I often wonder how he is getting on without me!) from out of my hand and just delves in to the engine, completely uninvited. We swap addresses, emails and blog information and receive lots of splendid advice. More smiles, kisses and handshakes. This van is an absolute face-cracker, me thinks.
Wrong! - I have yet to meet the man at the "Control Technique" testing centre. He proves to be a contradiction. He is going to be the exception to prove the rule..... Let me explain
Lucie, who is still helping out with the French on such occasions, books us in for a test at 10am one morning last week. One hour before that we have an appointment quite near to the testing centre, with the car insurance people because we are at present uninsured. It's an early start and we drive there nervously and irresponsibly, avoiding police black spots. Great smiles greet us as we enter the car park at the insurance office.
Just a few recent snapshots of our life in and around the Port of Meilhan, click to enlarge.
There is quite a lot of form filling, passport identification, registration documents from England - but all smiles, even a cup of coffee is served during the interview. Lucie does a grand job and all unnecessary French formalities appear to be waived. The insurance is just to cover us whilst we get the full "Carte Grise" from the ministry of .... oh I don't know what. We can't get that until the old car passes its "Controle Technique" test. (French M.O.T) We have to return with these documents to make the insurance permanent. Anyway....
So off we splutter with our new insurance sticker in the windscreen, towards the test centre from the car park with smiley people and that very very nice man from the insurance office, waving us off with messages of good luck . Teddy and Spud, our two little terriers are on board, enhancing the occasion. We travel about 200 metres and Lucie spots a right-turn sign to a farm shop that is selling strawberries and freshly picked asparagus. There's plenty of time. So why not?
There's another friendly greeting and lots of admiring French people who seem somehow to exude out of ever closed shutters. Some of them look Arabic, perhaps Moroccan French. We toot and smile and park where there is a space and I stop the engine. We buy lots of everything. More reminiscences and chat. We must go. We have a test in ten minutes. I turn the key in the ignition - the starter wurrrs. Not a spark. Not a cough from the engine. Not the slightest wheeze. I try again and again. Unhelpful advice is flowing through the window. Pump the throttle. Don't pump the throttle. Shall we push you? She's flooded, eh?
Then, as if she was just teasing us, there is a loud bang and a cloud of smoke bursts from under her flimsy bonnet - testing her weak safety-catch to the full. This is like something straight out of Genevieve- that old British classic film. The Arabs duck mischievously and scuttle off as if they are used to explosions. Everyone laughs as the engine, having cleared it's throat, bursts into life. More waves and smiles. We head off to the test centre with five minutes to go. But alas, the engine is not at all happy and dies on us just as we reach the main road. We borrow a phone and Lucie rings the test centre to tell them that we have broken down and have to cancel. Curses! but just when we resign ourselves to a rather long walk home and ignominiously pushing the van to a nearby parking bay - I try the engine again, rather tentatively this time after the shock explosion we already experienced. We might well catch fire after all and Lucie imagines she smells petrol. But our van is having a laugh again - she's enjoying this - and off we go again, stopping at the test centre to book for the next day. It does not bode well when I notice, not for the last time, that the testing man is not smiling.
This is taken in late May 2010 outside the Capitainerie at the port de Meilhan - having been made good mechanically by another friend, Edgar, who is a whizz with such matters. I still have to repaint her and stuff various rust holes with filler. But she's ready for the French M.O.T. (Control technique)!
Next day, we arrive at the test centre on time and the engine appears to be fine. We are shown in to what could have been a smart dentist's waiting room without the goldfish tank to calm the nerves. The non-smiling officer in charge takes all Lucie's papers and struggles with the English registration document - which is, to be fair, some 35 years old. My heart is in my dry mouth already and I reach for the free water dispenser. On one side of the room is a large internal window looking out on to the testing bay so that one can see what's going on as each test proceeds. I can just see our van in the queue outside with one of the two men who are doing the testing beginning to laugh - a rather different kind of laugh. He shrugs his shoulders, as they do, and raises his palms heavenwards. He opens the drivers door and slams it shut again. It shuts as usual and the bottom part of the window, which I tried to warn him about, slams down on his fingers. He is not seriously injured. All 2CVs have this problem and he should have known.
The door is being painted
Meanwhile and whilst these preliminaries are taking place, the sleek red Ferrari drop head saloon in front of me is coming to the end of it's test. It's having its emissions tested by a computer and the man in smart white overalls is revving the engine with relish. He is probably a boy racer for all I know. He looks impressed. The computer computes and figures are looked at and slips of paper are printed as the Ferrari's engine gives a final roar as if in contempt.Then the owner oozes into his seat, dons his shades, lights a fag and sizzles off, leaving black tyre marks on the forecourt.... It's our turn now.
Actually I'm trying to paint her! friend Alan looks on and advises.
I'm in the early stages of a coronary as the grumpy man turns the ignition key to start the van. It starts perfectly to his obvious surprise, and mine. He drives her over the inspection pit. Oh god!, they are going to see the rust under the drivers seat and the brake pedal. Flash-lights flash on and off, indicators ......the dip switch. They've obviously ignored the faulty speedometer. The brakes are OK. He spins each wheel whilst the van is jacked up. They spin freely. He notes the tyres and the spare. He lowers the jacks and the van onto rubber rollers and runs the engine in gear. She's never been that fast before. He revs the engine mercilessly. Then he rises from the inspection pit, crossly wiping off the oily rust from his face with his otherwise white sleeve. Now the dreaded pollution test. The computer coughs up some garbage on a slip of paper and..... we've passed. .. what? We've passed? There must be some mistake. Ah! .... not so fast. We are advised that we have to fix the seats to the floor of the car (not unreasonable I suppose) and attend to the pollution problem. All to be checked again within two months. He even flashes just the faintest smile. A very satisfactory result, if a little unexpected - but it isn't all plain sailing, y'know - is it?
April 19, 2010
It's Lovely and warm in here
We've made many decisions over the past two years as you can imagine, some good and some bad. "Body and Soul" was built by the Liverpool Boat Company through our "Brokers", the New Boat Company of Hanbury, who supervised the building of "Her" on our behalf. We were obliged to employ a Certified Marine Surveyor to enable us to comply with all regulations. Once this was done, we registered "Body and Soul" with the Small Ships Register (UK) (SSR120892) She wears this number, proudly, on her port side where it can be seen at all times.
On delivery from Liverpool to Hanbury she was already partially completed to our specifications, with windows, bulkheads (walls), wood paneling, engine, basic wiring and electrical systems installed. Fitting her out with bathroom, kitchen and bedroom was completed at Hanbury Wharf by another small two-man firm who took ten weeks to do it. We were very much involved at this stage in influencing what our new home was to look and feel like and how it would operate. It was a good relationship and on the whole we got what we wanted without spending too much on trimmings but quite a lot on the best equipment.
Good decision (eventually): We initially were against the idea of installing the more traditional wood burner because we reckoned that a central heating system would be cleaner, easier and more efficient. Wrong! We love our Jotul wood burner and find our fuel all over the place in France, where they know a lot about wood and its management. Our Eberspacher diesel central heating system failed so many times that we had a complete reversal, a u-turn in thinking which is proving to be a completely great idea and so economical. But apart from the practical aspects, it has added the "Soul" to the "Body" just as a real fire does to a conventional sitting room. We love it. (Janie, you were right after all!)
Now of course, having separated the fuel pipe to the Erbespacher away from its original source - the main fuel tank - and added a new dedicated tank situated close to the machine itself, the dear thing has never gone wrong since. But there you go again, it really isn't all plain sailing, y'know.
March 29, 2010
Eating, to us, is not just a pleasure (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know! - part 21)
We're going over-the-top - we're trying a vegetarian approach to eating in France! Try this link for information which has influenced us so far.
I actually find the arguments to support the "Vegetarian and Vegan" life philosophy very compelling and in an ideal world, I would like to embrace such ideals for the benefits it brings, both to the planet and to our health. I have been reading up much about the subject on the "web" and find that the 15 reasons outlined in the link shown above summarise my own feelings.
I think it must be easier to eat "vegetarian" in France than anywhere else, despite its long history of highly regarded, much admired and sophisticated cuisine. We may fail in our efforts when first confronted by a plate full of foie gras or simply the salty and crunchy tang of some smoked poitrine. Can we find new ideas in the vegetarian diet to counteract such a threat? Certainly we live in a land where vegetables are sold, fresh from the soil, in abundance and in enormous variety. It is worth a try.
Both Lucie and I, however, will attempt to move in this direction after Easter (having cleared the freezer of all those Toulouse sausages!) Here are two people - both possibly overweight - who love their food, almost above anything else - in our already beautiful retirement life in France and on water - trying to follow a different way of eating within a most traditional and conventional eating landscape of "boudin" munching carnivores - not to mention frogs and snails!
We will rise to the challenge and we will be reporting on Vegetarianism in France - complete with recipes and photos of what Lucie has done to use all this wonderful, fresh produce around us - it'll be
marvellous! Just watch this space.
Click on any of these photos for a larger version.
We're doing well up to date - 7th April - but there is still a lot of delicious meat in the freezer which no doubt, will not go to waste. But, at risk of repeating myself, it isn't all plain sailing, y'know.....
February 18, 2010
On and off the waggon ! (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know - part 20)
Perhaps this heading should have been the title of the whole blog!
Self- imposed abstinence throughout the month of January is indeed quite painful but we've made it and I can say that we are sleeping better throughout the night without interruptions (if you know what I mean?) We've also acquired a taste for Roses Lime Juice which makes a reasonable substitute for the real thing.
The dull, unimaginative efforts by England's "6 nations" rugby team against the Italians on the 14th of February is enough to throw me (and much stronger men) "off the waggon" as we watch the full BBC coverage on our friend's television in Meilhan village - yes, a glass or two of vin rouge from"Cahors" certainly relieves the gloom as they just scrape through with a win. Other previous loves at www.Latuc.com
As spring approaches, Lucie and I are slowly formulating some kind of a plan for the coming cruising season which will start late in April (after she returns from next UK visit) with a trip to Toulouse (176km) and to all places in between.
More to come soon....but meantime please click on the link word "Cahors" highlighted in the above text. This link gives some interesting information about the super wines from Cahors, not far from us and there's apparently a small micro-brewery just opening nearby too, called "the Merchien Brewery" - I must investigate this ! Try this link to go directly to the brewery site and while you are at it there are quite a few local domain names around here with excellent wines and worth a visit www.chateaudebeaulieu.net and www.bois-beaulieu.com
News on the musical front is getting more exciting by the day. We've recently got to know George and Sandy Smith who have lived in Meilhan for a long time. George has his own band which occupies him full time. He seems to have coined the music market over an extensive area in Aquitaine and we have become fans of his music. His web site address is www.georgesmithmusik.com and if you are looking for a good modern band and entertainment, he has marvellous musicians at his beck 'n call.
Return to Main
Just seen the mass immigration of the Cranes (what we saw) - check out this site.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crane_(bird))
January 17, 2010
Resolutions and winter freeze-ups (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know - part 19)
My memory is suffering under the effect of the various obligatory excesses during and since the wonderful summer we've just had. I am finding it hard to remember anything which wasn't good fun. Obviously this can't go on - I must try harder!
However, the year ends with a great party at Chez Kelly's Chateau, www.chezkelly.eu (This is relatively small as Chateaux(s) go - historic but tastefully modernised. Just click here for more information.) owned by a lovely couple of chaps, Brendan and Keld, with whom we are now well acquainted. For this party, all guests bring their own food in generous quantities and there is much singing, dancing and piano playing - not to mention a great firework display at midnight. Our visiting British friends, David and Marie-Jeanne Sevier, are staying here and join in the celebrations.
As a result of all this indulgence, I am, so far, clinging to my thirteenth day of a new year's resolution which I have imposed upon myself. Not a drop of alcohol has passed my lips to date and I plan to continue this regime until the end of January and thereafter to try a less excessive lifestyle. Lucie is also being sensible although perhaps her need to be is not quite as urgent as mine. But it is not easy, especially when going out visiting friends. It is France after all and, in particular, we do miss the local red wine.
Just click on any of these to enlarge
One incident worth reporting happens
whilst Lucie is away in England 1. Winter favourite walk
2. La Garonne, top. Camp site, middle Body and Soul, bottom.
3. Bleak mistletoe and vineyard.
Once again it involves Spud and a Coypu. This time Spud escapes from me whilst taking him for the usual morning walk along the Canal side. I let him off the lead as much as I dare even though I am conscious of his reputation. I allow him to break trust yet again.
This time, as I watch him hurtle with nose down, zig-zagging across a ploughed field I am able to cut across the field by jumping a dyke and I cut him off just in time to see the inevitable "Kill" in horrible detail. He is the other side of another dyke and I cannot reach him without wading in through the freezing water. He is barking with the same urgent high note that I have heard before. This time he is dragging the unfortunate beast from out of a hole in the bank. It is the same size as he is and has those horrid yellow incisors on show. He is growling weirdly, lunging, biting and shaking his prey by the neck. He is unstoppable and it is soon over with a final twist. The coypu is dead and the body is being dragged towards me for presentation. Spud is looking very pleased with himself having satisfied one of his most basic instincts and Teddy, who has just caught us up, looks on with admiration.
Ahh yes, there have been other interesting but equally unsavoury happenings. The appearance of the frightful giant asiatic hornet
It seems that there is a minor invasion of these frightful creatures, pictures of which can be seen by clicking on the highlighted text. There is a giant hornets nest nearby us, high up in a tall tree and which I mistook for an unusually large crows-nest. It is somewhat box-shaped and appears to be hanging perilously by some sort of a thread. Later I find some giant hornets cones lying at the bottom of a different plane tree on the canal-side. These cones, although badly damaged by their fall, perhaps in a storm, are about 18" in diameter and one inch thick, made up of a mass of interconnected, six sided cells. (There is a picture of a segment of what I saw in the above attached document ) A miracle of nature of which I am in awe.
It's Friday the 15th Jan today and our new computer - a DELL desktop - is much better than the Acer laptop and we are absolutely delighted. Thanks to Alex, (son of Di and Dave) who is a genius at pooters of all sorts, we now have greater speed, more flexibility, better internet access and all day BBC radio 4. What a difference this is to us depending upon it, as we do, for communications of all sorts (including the Archers!). Thanks too due to Mike and Cathy, (Port Capitaine) who have had to put up with us using their pooter in the office at all times of the day for at least a fortnight.
Me and the boys in our pontoon winter herb garden viewed from Body and Soul
On January the 10th the Maire of Meilhan (Regine is by now almost a friend, you could say) invites everyone to a special celebration at the Salle De Fete in the village. Tickets are........(to be continued)
16th Jan 2010
I must butt-in to these thoughts to announce, gleefully, the birth of Laura's baby girl Skya Alexander. I've just heard .....this morning. Nick was at the birth and everything went well. Skya weighed in at 6lbs 9ozs. Laura is fine and coming home today after being properly examined. Congratulations Laura, Nick and Gabby (Now 8)
Skya Alexandra born midnight 15th/16th Jan 2010.
Let's hope Nick will give us a link URL to more pictures of his family progress. Watch this space!
Note:
That makes five grandaughters and three Grandsons to date, between us. (Lucie and I)
By Clicking Main you will return to the main blog.
December 24, 2009
Seasonal cheer to one and all
Lucie and I wish all our relatives and friends, best wishes for
Christmas and for the year 2010
Christmas and for the year 2010
Here we are - latest awful photo - but the only one with us "en famille".
Getting more grey by the minute but thankfully very well to date.
We've had another busy year full of social events and visits to places around us in Aquitaine. We seem to have developed a love for Meilhan- sur- Garonne and this area. We plan to make this "Home" and make seasonal trips back to the Lot and the Baise.
You can see from this rather wintry scene - "Body and Soul" - moored on the only pontoon in the Port. With our chimney smoking and a few woody Christmas decorations on deck. We are as warm as ever inside and will be having our Christmas lunch "A deux". The village of Meilhan towers over us, high up and to the right.
It is hard to imagine just a few weeks ago we were sweltering in the summer heat and dressed in, what seemed to be, permanent T-shirts and shorts. Lately we've had some frosty sub-zero temperatures but have ample supplies of wood and the "ruddy Erbespacher" delivers additional central heating if required.
One of the great benefits of the Meilhan port is the adjacent campsite and this was well used this year by the Falshaw family, seen here - Amanda, Harry and Lois. (Taken by Alan)
We have bought all the essential camping gear - now safely stored for the next coming, in the engine room. But please note that we can still accommodate two adults on board with our splendid IKEA sofa bed..... just don't hesitate to come and visit at any time and any season! You will always be welcome.
Autumn feel. Lucie and Spud taking the last of the Sun.
Click on any photo to get the full size.
Our new double roomed tent.
Launching the "pod" (with Amanda and the Capitainerie behind)
Of course, the arrival of a baby brother for Charlie (Lucie's second grandchild) was the highlight of the year and for the latest photos of him with Charlie, Sophie and Steven just "scroll down" this blog. He was born in Bath Hospital on Nov 26th at a healthy 8lbs 14ozs. Mother and Baby are fine. I suspect there will be more photos to come! ..... and, not forgetting, Nick's Laura is due to produce another sprog in January. Our special best wishes to them.
Harry and Lois on board Body and Soul
Just to put the usual spoke in the wheel, our lap top has just crashed and, with the generous and ever helpful aid of the port Capitaine, I am only able to get computer time using his computer. Our new one - a decent Dell desktop - is on its way and scheduled to arrive by Jan 7th 2010. This means that we will be out of touch if using "Skype" until then and a bit slower to respond to emails.
But, as 'oft said, "it really isn't all plain sailing, y'know!"
Lots of love from us both. Cheers!
November 23, 2009
Cool, seasonal expectations (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know! Part 18)
“So what” - you might say - “is the title of this posting, to do with the value of the pound? Or indeed the cost of Marmite?” - Well…. however depressing this may seem when stretching ones British pension in France, it surely is time for cool reflection and a cathartic counting of blessings. Remember to click on these photos to get a larger view.
Our bridge view at Meilhan
To put this grim situation into perspective, I recall that when we arrived in France, one Euro cost us around 66 pence. It currently costs us about 90 pence – a decrease in our purchasing power of over 36% since 2005. There is an additional cost of living increase of which all the French are well aware, as we all cope with the global financial crisis and inflation. Our State pension, unhappily, is far from being index linked.
There is an apparent exodus, a mass repatriation of British house owning ex-pats who find themselves unable to stay here. Their dream has ended. One could say that the benign second English invasion of Aquitaine has been effectively stemmed. (for those, like me, who were unaware until now - England owned Aquitaine for three centuries between 1152 to 1442 ....Eleanor and all that!
Fortunately, 36% of a little is, you will agree, very little. Happily, we owe nothing and have neither mortgage nor car expenses and, for once in our lives, neither tax nor standing orders. However difficult as this may be, it is never-the-less a problem with only one obvious solution. It’s called “living within one’s means”. This, surely, is a lesson which everyone should learn (I never have before) and I guess it’s at the root of the current financial debacle in the UK and elsewhere, the cost of which our offspring will have to bear.
Our neighbouring Cat Pepsy, enjoying the Autumn leaves
Looking at the bright side - living at Meilhan-sur-Garonne is proving a success and a tremendous boost to our quality of life on board. To a certain extent it offsets the financial pain mentioned above. We love the village which is perched high above us and the beautiful countryside which surrounds us – so do Spud and Teddy who revel in the freedom and the plentiful variety of walks.
The village has everything we need. An excellent general store, boulangerie and a brilliant boucherie. There is a bank, a pharmacy and a splendid bus service costing only one euro each way into the town of Marmande with its market twice a week. Then there is the ancient town of La Reole-sur-Garonne about the same distance away which also has a great market on Saturdays.
Just a typical evening view
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Our mooring fee is reasonable and much less than last year at Castelsarrasin or indeed the year before at Capestang.
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We also have permanent WiFi connection which gives us non stop BBC radio 4, thus reducing considerably the cost of our previous “Orange” facility.
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This also means that our “Skype” facility works much better and greatly reduces, the cost of the telephone.
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I have created a separate fuel tank for our central heating system which used to be fed from the main engine fuel tank. This means that we can use domestic diesel at less than 2/3rds the price of engine fuel/diesel.
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Wood for the wood burner is plentiful and free. This means that the diesel central heating system is rarely needed excepting in really cold spells.
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There is a particularly good campsite adjacent to the port for which we have bought a great tent and facilities for visiting families, If they want a cheap visit……..
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The canal water is less polluted, (we can even see the bottom of the canal) and there is a healthy fish stock. There is less hull corrosion and less need to re-paint the hull for another year and, for the first time in France, we have correct polarity for our shore line electricity supply. (don’t ask for technical details!)
The best butcher in the world, Our very useful general store, La Reole Market, My piano bar at the Capitaierie
Meilhan-sur-Garonne has something about it which is very appealing to us, quite apart from these obvious facilities. We seem to have become involved with so many people, both French and English. We want to stay here; for it to be our home and base to which we shall always return. I am very lucky to have found a French friend who is teaching me daily, the spoken French using the principle of "Total immersion". He comes to the Capitainerie daily, subject to the weather. I am forbidden to speak English for an Hour as we drink coffee. It's the best way possible and I owe him a lot.
My French Language Teacher, John-Noel, at the Piano Bar with his wife. Michel, another french friend - also a "live aboard" on the right.
It is likely that we will travel on Body and Soul in April, May, and maybe, June. We’ll stay in port for July and August, the French holiday season, then possibly off again for September and October, returning “home” for the rest of the year, including November, December, January, February, March when the canals are closed. Of course much depends on the weather and whoever is visiting us.
Stop Press
Now here's our very latest blessing by courtesy of Sophie and Steve Blair
Sophie and Max - one day old
So we are very content with our lot but not in the least bit complacent. There's beauty, music, good food and wine all around us - lots of family and many friends and social involvement, great transport facilities, a secure and beautiful home and plenty to which we look forward.
Proud father, Steve.
Charlie and Max
As I say, with the pound as it is "it really isn't all plain sailing!" but who cares?!
September 14, 2009
Live Jazz and Limp Livers (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know - part 17)
It is some time since I have "blogged" - July, in fact and it is true to say that since then "we have done those things which we ought not to have done and left undone those things that we ought to have done" - but there is, otherwise, great health in us!
Now for the real subject of this post.
The Jazz Summer School at Monteton 2009
(from Sat. 18th July to the Sat. 25th July
From our barge home at Meilhan-Sur-Garonne
We travel North to Monteton from our beloved Barge retirement home at Meilhan, thanks to good friends with a car. Lucie and I, together with my electric piano and all its paraphernalia, arrive from the South and are within sight of the Chateau De Monteton - a journey of about 36 kilometres.
Click on any of these photos for a bigger picture
To this.......Monteton
"That can't be the place" - our mutual reaction to what we see as we slowly wind up through the narrow roads leading to this pretty village. It looks like a ruined castle. But there is nowhere else to go. It is the place, as the SatNav is telling us - "You have reached your destination." www.chateaudemonteton.com/pages/liens.php
We move the car as near as we dare, to the entrance in order to disembark with the piano. Unknown to me now, this is not by any means the last time I move my piano during the coming week. I have my back support belt ready just in case, little knowing then how much I would have need of it.
One of the two beautiful cellar practise rooms.
Lucie soon expresses her envy as we look around in amazement. She reluctantly prepares to leave. We both feel the atmosphere. It is almost "designer dilapidation". The chateau/castle itself, from the outside, really does look as if it is falling down. The surrounding buildings, also ancient, are to do with the bedrooms, restaurant and the usual offices. The Chateau/castle, where most of the practise rooms are situated, stands separate and proud. The rooms within it are spacious and well appointed with an upright piano in each. There are three floors which are connected by very ancient and rough stone and wooden stairways - not built for the timid or frail though it all adds to the excitement of being here. I don't know how many times I move the piano up and down these stairs but it is all worth it.
The wooden balcony on which one should not dare tread
It is beautiful without being prescribed or planned. It is old and yet over several periods of change. The first scene is augmented by a "bric a brac" of objet d'art. A large church bell here and an enormous concrete ear there - all of four metres high. Flowers and trees abound in various tasteful containers. There are two enormous woolly dogs lying somnolent, maybe dead? - one is old and dark grey, the other seems even older - he is brown and has a tendency to lift his head and howl mournfully from time to time, as if to confirm a diminishing role in life or perhaps apprehensive of the racket he knows is about to envelope him again! He has, after all, seen this seven times before.
A diminishing role in life?
The main area of restaurant and bar, which is the site of all evening and collective occasions is open to the elements on three sides but has some sheets of polythene which are put in place if it rains*. It has a sturdy beamed roof and ceiling.
Seating around 80 people, it is serviced by a kitchen behind the bar on one side. There are several normal round banqueting tables of ten. The countryside beneath stretches for miles like some painting or French tapestry. There is an attached balcony perched perilously high over the hillside and is, as one finds out afterwards, supported by some rather rudimentary scaffolding. What a marvellous spot for Jazz.
*(We have indeed an exciting tropical thunder storm on the third night and I awake to find a mini waterfall pouring down inside the walls of our room! - no matter. )
The open fire and meeting place just in the middle of the courtyard leading into the main restaurant.
"Somewhere over the rainbow" is being played by a lone trumpeter from some distant practise room in the castle building itself. There are valuable instruments leaning or lying around unattended. There are people like me talking in groups outside around a centre fire place surrounded by large stones for them to sit upon. It is a focus for people who are there with a common purpose - to enjoy playing jazz together and to learn more about their instruments. To improve their techniques.
For me, I want a catalyst, a new impetus and some encouragement for me to progress to a new level of playing the piano. So far so good.....the language is all English.
The bedroom facilities are very basic but we only use them for sleeping in. I meet my room mate for the first time. Dr. David Brohn is a civil engineer and professes to be a singer - The only one there as it happens - quel courage, mon ami!
We share coincidences together before checking in and unpacking what little we have brought with us. We all dine together and introduce ourselves to each other. After many names have flown through one ear and out of the other - I find that by addressing everyone as "Dave" there is a 35% chance of getting a response. There is a pleasant minority of brave ladies who make a pleasant mix.
The "Cave" where the "all nighters" hang- out into the early hours.
Notably there is a very gentle giant Irishman, Dave, who must be at least 7ft tall and, dare I say it, equally big in girth and across the shoulder. Against him, his saxophone is a mere penny whistle. Then there is "quite big" Dave the base clarinetist who also plays the contra-base clarinet; this is something I have never seen or heard before. Both "Daves" epitomise the enthusiasm, variety and purpose of this Jazz School. Enthusiasm for everything and into everything at every opportunity. Again there is New Zealand Dave; another Sax player/clarinetist whom I entrust with taking photos, some of which you now see. (Thanks Dave!) - all unique characters, like so many there, with lots of promise, enthusiasm and a common interest - from young and old.
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Big Dave, the Irishman.
The "Table d'hote" is very acceptable as it remains throughout the week for breakfast lunch and dinner. The bottles of wine on each table are re-filled on demand. No-one abuses this arrangement. The staff, presumably all local French, are obliging and attentive. The two damsels behind the bar are both stunning and naturally welcoming. The bearded "governor" is very jolly, helpful and ever-present. He obviously loves jazz too, judging by the background tapes he puts on at meal times. On the first night I hear Dave Brubeck (huh, another Dave!), Paul Desmond and Joe Morello - first recorded on vinyl when I was at school 50 years ago. This is going to be good, me thinks.
"Quite big" Dave (all of 6ft!) hiding behind his contra-base clarinet - an essential part of the New Orleans group practising in the village Hall.
It's Saturday evening, on the day of arrival. We mix and party. I learn to my relief that I can have a bar tab. Lots of us are now on beer which comes in a 50cl bottle of reasonable euro-fizz made somewhere other than France - a wise choice. These are selling as if they are going out of fashion and by the next day I feel awful.
(I get up in the middle of the night and find myself trying to get into the wardrobe to relieve myself. I sober up just in time.)
Sunday morning, the real beginning, is an important moment when all ones' faculties should be at their best. The programme sheets are late in being photocopied but we are introduced to all the tutors and given a briefing as to how things happen. Andrea Vicari, the talented and busy lady in charge of the whole show tells us all "what's what" with diffidence and good humour. I am not at my receptive best however and find out most of what's happening by asking students who have been before. This is, as I am to learn, the majority.
Our "workshop" practise room to which my piano returns each morning. Each room has an adequate upright piano provided.
There are "Workshop" groups of about eight to ten people with a variety of instruments, to which you are allocated for the whole week. These are supervised by a different tutor each morning with the intention of performing one practised piece, in front of the rest of the students, before dinner in the evening. Everyone has to perform. There is a kind of collective encouragement and laughter as each group performs its piece and each student has a solo to great applause.
Stairs to the upper floor rooms, taken from underneath- not for the feint hearted.
The afternoons are spent with the jazz band style of ones own choice and the same tutor throughout the week. I start off with with the "Soul" band after mistakenly putting a "5" and a "1" instead of a "1" and "5" on a multi-choice form.
The Soul Group which is practising Michael Jackson numbers, already has another pianist with his own piano and all his equipment. No! This is definitely not for me.
My stupid mistake is swiftly rectified by Andrea and after lugging my equipment from the top floor of the Chateau, I end up on the second day in the New Orleans Group, with Malcolm Smith as tutor, which has the village hall down the road as its practise room. I am sweating buckets but greatly relieved to be where I am.
Somehow, interspersed with the above group practising each day, the organisers have squeezed in two "Masterclasses" - we all attend these in the restaurant.
The first is conducted by Malcolm Smith who represents, for me, the real essence of Jazz with his emphasis on melody and playing "by ear" and memory - which is, after all I believe, how "Jazz" has developed to date - I am of the old school perhaps?
Malcolm, Quenton and Mornington - with Andrea and Dorian behind them and Scott on drums. (as far as I remember.)
The second "Masterclass" is conducted by Mornington Lockett who is a world class, "progressive" jazz sax player. Both masterclasses, for me, are stimulating and revealing. I am comforted by Malcolm Smith's emphasis on the importance of melody and the extemporisation around that melody and his ability to play the trombone and to encourage what is essentially an auditory and natural process. Mornington Lockett's technique and his marvellous imaginative solos - so very thrilling to hear live. We feel privileged and inspired.
For me, these excellent masterclasses emphasise the rich variety in jazz styles and its development. Between, on the one hand, progressive jazz (Bee Bop?) with its emphasis on instrumental expertise, long, well structured solos and with more of a "riff" than a melody. On the other hand, the more simple idea of swinging around familiar melodies with multiple solos and with an emphasis on the arrangement.
As if this is not enough, we are marvellously entertained by all the tutors with Andrea's Mirror Band on the Sunday night. Ingrid, (shown here), starred on tenor - and on the following Tuesday to another tutor filled group together with Mornington Lockett. Some mesmerising percussion by both Nick and Scott, exceptional base and piano delights on each occasion - Jon's guitar and Quentins forceful trumpet too.
Andrea Vicari's Mirror Band with Ingrid, Nic (left) and Dorian.
Then again, as if by way of light relief, on the Wednesday night, Dave Gelly , tenor, (Yes another Dave!) and singer Annie Bright entertain us with some old melodies and songs which "go down a storm." This is showtime. Dave is also a highly experienced member of our New Orleans Group and has his own professional group in real life. I would love to be part of such a band.
Massaging my musical dyslexia and undoubted complexes, the harmony "classes" are always going to be counterproductive with me - (I hated my early piano teacher!) - With a life-time dedicated to industrial training, I cannot see how such theory can usefully be taught in such a cursory way and without clear, achievable objectives. Others will have a different view. The standard of instruction - in the three groups I witness - with an absence of essential flip charts or any other training aids - is also indicative - rather like conducting a wine tasting without wine.
Jon, mid solo with half of Malcolm
Perhaps the "instrumental group sessions", where we are divided into pianists, drummers, guitars, brass etc .....and able to show what we can do with our respective instruments, should come right at the beginning of the week so that the tutors have a better idea of what stage each individual has reached and what their aspirations are, before deciding what to do with them or to which group they should belong or indeed, what sessions to attend. It's just a thought.....
The last night, at the Students' Concert, we let it all hang out, late into the night. We play our favourite "Workshop Group" piece to the rest after an early dinner and somehow squeeze a couple of our "preferred band style" pieces as well. One can only imagine how many solos this means in just one evening. Malcolm Smith deserves great praise for our efforts in the New Orleans group. Those with even stronger constitutions descend to the "Cave" for a final blast.
All the tutors are, as we soon find out, of the highest calibre and their obvious enthusiasm is infectious. Click here for details or on the top left hand column for more pictures. More pictures if you have any will be added. Try my email: Tillersandtastebuds@yahoo.com
http://www.jazzschool-dordogne.co.uk
MAIN TUTORS
Ingrid Laubrock - saxes www.ingridlaubrock.com
Quentin Collins - trumpet www.quentincollins.com
Malcolm Earle Smith - trombone www.malcolmearlsmith.com
Jon Bratoeff - guitar
Nic France - drums and percussion
Scott Vicari - drums and soul-band
Dorian Lockett - basses
Andrea Vicari - piano and MD
MASTERCLASS TUTOR
Mornington Lockett
A special thanks to Steve, an enviably good Jazz pianist, who obligingly helps me with a few new chords. There are at least three really good drummers on hand and quite a number of potentials, like Mike (percussion), Erik (Clarinetist) amongst the students too. There is even one regular student who is, apparently, in his eighties and always smiling and a percussionist obviously thoroughly enjoying himself. My sincere thanks to the lot of them, even though, with so many students and so much going on, it is impossible to get to know them very well in just one week.
My special thanks to Andrea and Dorian for organising such an inspirational week and managing to play so well (Piano and Base) at every opportunity.
The restaurant with the bell and its balcony. I just love this place.
Click on any of these photos to enlarge
Lucie, my wife, says I really am playing with much more imagination and that I can't stop talking about Monteton - she is pleased now for me to have recorded my rantings, however inadequately, on my "Blog".
.....and as far as I am concerned, I feel more at ease already in several keys other than Eb - my transpose button is almost a thing of the past - but, as you will by now have realised.... for me ....
"it isn't all plain sailing, y'know."
I hope to be there next year.
July 15, 2009
"SUN SEA ET LA FAMILLE" - by Lucie
I have recently returned from some quality time with my daughter Sophie, her husband Steve and the rapidly growing Charlie. We were lucky enough to be invited to my oldest friend "Nita"'s house the other side of Beziers. It is part of what was a wine domaine, since divided into various parcels and sold off separatly. "Nita", as Charlie calls her, has part of a large farm building, a lovely pool in a delightful fruit and olive tree garden. The incredibly thick walls and old stone floors help to keep one deliciously cool when the searing summer sun beats down on a landscape of Languedoc vines. It is conveniently placed only 15 minutes drive from a long beach. The whole thing was rather spoiling and provided Charlie with a wonderful water playground which she revelled in.
Click on any of these to enlarge
We had all been looking forward to this little family holiday. Anita is my oldest friend, our friendship dates back to school at the French Lycée in London, frightened to realise that we have known each other for over 40 years, neither of us can believe it until we are rash enough to look in the mirror.
Having said that, Anita defies the laws of ageing beautifully . She is also Sophie's Godmother and has always felt like a sister and a friend.
The weather was on the whole really sunny and hot. Charlie arrived complete with swimming waiscoat and armbands. Like her mother she turned out to be a complete water baby and within days had discarded all but the armbands, the vice like grip had stopped and she was gaily and avidly jumping into the water or taking off from the steps at the shallow end and racing her father to the deep end. The clatter of the pool cleaning vent did however raise a frightened scream as it loomed towards her like some monster's open mouth. Other than that she was fearless and very entertaining. It is a family joke that I swim with my head well above the water and never get my hair wet, it is testimony to my love for Charlie that I found myself diving in, being splashed and looking most of the time like Donna Summers on a bad hair day. The half- cast ancestry making it's presence felt and no mistake!
We also heard that Sophie is expecting a boy this time around, which caused delight to all concerned. Although I cannot see myself rushing around with a football, there I do draw the line. Let's hope he has a passion for cooking, that would be a delight!
Balmy evenings were spent on the terrace under the shade of the wisteria being prompted by Steve to take a walk down memory lane.
A special family time, three generations together, I wonder whether Charlie will remember the occasion and the delightful setting we were all able to enjoy as a family.
July 10, 2009
It's too darned hot! (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know! - part 16)
As you will have observed from the date of this submission, we are past the longest day of the year and the Cicadas are out in force with their high pitched hissing, which is in direct competition with my normal tinnitus. In fact it is almost impossible to detect which is which! The forecast says it is hot today and even hotter tomorrow when temperatures are expected to rise to 90°F. (32°C) It is also humid (well over 50%) and there is a threat of a tropical storm.
A sea of red fruits at Marmande Market
Poor Teddy (The Norwich Terrier) finds it far too hot to walk very far, even in the early morning. He is genetically impaired with a very narrow trachea (Wind pipe) which makes him gasp for breath as soon as hot weather comes - It sounds horrible and his tongue goes blue . He needs lots of water and he takes great delight in wallowing in the shallow waters of the Garonne just near to us, to cool himself down. This does the trick immediately.
Port de Meilhan - sur- Garonne having a make-over
We are now into the first of two main French holiday months and the weather kicks off obligingly with a tropical storm which lasts all morning on the 1st July. It is such a big storm that we fear for the power supply to our boat. I unhook our shore line connection in case we are struck by lightning. The Meilhan campsite is practically full of holiday makers. There is much jollity and noise but somehow all good well intentioned fun.
A jolly crew, but all English speaking, just a few feet from our doors at Meilhan.
Whilst Lucie is away I am determined to take this opportunity to make good use of the additional time I have to myself so I decide to play session nine of Michel Thomas's "Talking French". I am resolved this year to get stuck-in to the "lingo". My progress to date, in this respect, has been rather slower than I would have liked which, in truth, is probably because I have a French speaking wife and most people on the canals seem to be English speaking too. In short, I have been encouraged, so far, to be lazy.
Each Wednesday, during the summer, Meilhan sports her evening market, "Marché Des Producteurs", where one buys one's own raw food, has it cooked at the grill and sits down to "live" music and the wine one has bought or has brought oneself.
Both ends of Body and Soul are open wide to allow a cooling draft through the boat so that I can listen in comfort, on our new sofa-bed, to our Hi Fi. Our electric fan is droning soporifically, streaming cool air in my direction and helpfully keeping the naughty flies off me. I apply my full attention to the programme. Unknown to me however, the tables outside the Capitainerie are filling up with holiday makers and some regulars who are ordering beers, other cool drinks and ice-creams - just a few yards from our wide open doors. My concentration, in this heat, fails me in less than five minutes and I nod off with the ninth lesson broad-casted so that all the world except me can hear.
After about half an hour or so I am woken by a raucous noise of hysterical laughter coming from the punters at the bar outside who are shouting the answers to all the test questions from Mr. Thomas that I should have been answering on lesson eleven - having a good laugh at the same time. I turn off the lesson and join the crowd and start speaking French as best I can - with the highly amused French. That is of course, how it has to be done!
- but, as I have 'oft said, it really isn't all plain sailing, y'know.
June 27, 2009
A Picnic, Spud and a Coypu (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know, part 15)
We are here in Meilhan @ 26th June '09. Click to enlarge. One of the many delights of what we are doing is called “wild mooring” – that is, basically, tying up to the canal-side at a suitably remote spot and having a picnic. Our inverter gives us 240 volt power for the fridge and the imersion heater for perhaps 24 hours. We have our 2kw external generator to keep the batteries charged should we decide to stay a night or two. The solar panel helps too.
Morning view at Meilhan through the Houdini Hatch from the galley.
On our way to Meilhan we are delighted to meet up with our French friends André and Laurence for just such a peaceful “repas” on the river side and we spot their small cruiser “Oscar” already tied up in a sunny and remote spot. I move “Body and Soul” astern of them so that her “Houdini” hatch faces the bank. Lucie prepares some great food which she passes through it, to eager hands ashore.
Wild mooring at Fourques, an earlier occasion
It is worth extolling the virtues of the “Houdini” hatch – a particularly brilliant feature of narrow boats and the envy of many owners of other kinds of boat that we meet on the waterways who haven’t got one. There are several uses in addition to them being the emergency exit for which, I assume, they are designed. For instance, In winter we use it as a thermostat – flinging its doors open when the wood burner gets too hot. We use it for passing the shopping bags into the galley and logs through from the roof store to the "Jotul" wood burner. Then again, we use it for throwing out dirty dishwater - you know what I mean? - that saucepan with the remnants of porridge in it – instead of having to finger it down the plug-hole and blocking the sink? That's the one!
- sorry but it's the only one I've got, showing the "houdini" hatch!
On this occasion, for instance, we pass out all the picnic paraphernalia including tables and chairs as well as the food and drink through it and, today, in a careless moment, I even throw Teddy (the Norwich Terrier) and Spud (our Jack Russell) through it, much to their delight. Off they scuttle like hunters tracking spoor, their noses down every hole in the grassy bank. They’ll not come to any harm here, I muse, rather carelessly.
We raise our glasses and tuck in. It is a tranquil, pastoral scene. Our laughter and chat is the only noise apart from the breeze in the plane trees (les platane) towering above us. Nothing could spoil moments like this. Even the far off traffic noise seems to stop for “midi” in France. I’m now on my second glass of Latuc, AOC Cahors www.Latuc.com– a particular favourite of ours, when we hear a distant barking dog. Every dog owner knows the special sound of their own dog. That’s Spud alright!
He is clearly in the adjacent field which is inaccessible to us, being guarded by a wall of spikey gorse and brambles. Access must be through a gate somewhere on the other side. We can’t see where. I give in - he wants to show me what he's got - I must obey. The tone of his barking is getting frenetic. He is obviously “on” to something and letting the rest of the world know. So, I scoot off down the canal side looking for a gate to go through. There isn’t one. André is in hot pursuit. We are now in the field opposite the one in which Spud is. There is still a ploughed field to cross and some serious looking undergrowth. The barking has now reached a crescendo – like a torrent of doggy oaths.
Spud: He's my Buddy, now nine years old.
It is worth mentioning at this juncture that both André and I are in shorts, T-shirts and sandals and whilst I am prepared to do most things for my dog, without a thought, it takes me a while to negotiate the mass of brambles, stinging nettles and a snake pit in order to get near him. My legs and hands are already bleeding badly. André shrugs his shoulders at this point, as only the French can, indicating that this, after all, is my dog and that really it is down to me to go further into this jungle, but alone.
The brambles are now neck high and Spud is beside himself, making lunging sounds as if he had taken on more than he could chew. I am in dire need of a machete. At last I am within an arms length of the skirmish and there, within my grasp is both Spud and his quarry. It is a Coypu - the size of a badger, frightened and backed into a corner of dense undergowth. I can see blood around its mouth as it grins horribly up at me, showing it’s nasty yellow incisors. Both protagonists are bleeding and appear to be in it to the death. I grab Spud by the scruff of the neck and his collar and heave him to the relative safety of my bleeding arms. He is also covered in blood and dirt. He seems quite pleased to be out of it – he looks at me as if to say “what kept you?”. I reckon his distinctly unfriendly Coypu feels pretty much the same.
This is a picture of the Coypu that we saw in Briare with her "cubs".
Our return through the same brambles, stinging nettles and the snake pit, clutching my dog, is equally as frought. I am now sweating hard and bleeding like a stuck pig from the waist down but we manage to reach base camp in one piece. He is very dirty and we dunk him into the canal and wash his wounds carefully with disenfectant. He has teeth marks under his chin and down his neck, but otherwise seems unharmed.
I sit down, after a shower, to finish what is left of my picnic with the others whilst Spud (we often call him "Doctor Spud") insists on licking and licking my wounds clean for the rest of the afternoon – something he always does if I am injured. He's my “buddy” after all and we love him.
June 18, 2009
Getting to the bottom of it (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know! part 14)
We've been having quite a hard time here at Meilhan, one way and another what with my "dodgy back" and some noisy frogs (with a small "f"!). Our rush downstream on the Baise in flood didn't help but I am slowly getting better thanks to my wife and French Health Care.
Incidentally, our address whilst in France for "snail mail" is as follows:
Malcolm and Lucie Walker c/o Minervois Cruisers, Halte Nautique, 47180 Meilhan-Sur-Garonne, France.
The main problem though is to do with the relentless social life. If one is not very careful one can over-do the red wine. Perhaps this is a personal problem that one has failed to deal with so far. Maybe one ignores the dangers and doesn't realise how much damage one is doing. Maybe such is the life that one leads here, one is destined to become an alcoholic or is close to being one already ..... but it is SO cheap here and so delicious and seems to be so "de rigueur" at almost every excusable occasion. A litre of reasonable Vin de Table or Vin De Pays is literally as cheap as a litre of bottled water.
Make the most of each bottle but no need to suck that hard darling! (makes a good cheeseboard tho')
Happy memories of brewing (and bottling) really fine English Bitter at the Earl Soham Brewery for John Bjornson are not lost and I miss the real English bitter from the Queen Vic at Earl Soham, Suffolk. That period of my life, however, happened well after my brush with Saddam Hussein as long ago as August 2 1990 when he invaded Kuwait. I have a lot to thank him for - shame he had to lose his head before I could (thank him) - but my life, at least, has moved on. If it hadn't been for this débacle, I would never have met my wife, light of my life, nor would I have known the delights of brewing and drinking Victoria Bitter or anything else since for that matter. It's an ill wind etc......
I have never found a beer more suitable to my taste than Victoria Bitter in all our travels - (Albert Ale too). It's that, much sought-after, throat opening quality that counts. However, if one really wants to drink French Beer with just a flicker of an English feel and taste to it, we look for the sign "Haut fermentation" (top fermented) on the bottle. We like the bottled beer called "Goudale". There may be others to be found in super markets. We let it stand open for as long as we can bear it, just to get rid of the wretched bubbles and never cool it too much. If only they would use the English "seeded" hop it would be a perfect substitute for the real thing.
We find that almost without exception, French bars and pubs, whilst being plentiful in number, sell Eurofizz (pression) which is vastly overpriced and in rather seedy surroundings. Their only redeeming feature being the fact that there are usually tables outside at which to be served and Sunshine to boot. In the winter they become rather nasty watering holes with little to offer even the inveterate smoker now-a-days: And as for most (not all) the lavatory facilities, Zut alors!
Getting back to the wine....... last week our friends Stewart and Christine, who are having a house built in Meilhan right now, take us to La Réole in their car. What are our intentions I wonder?
To visit the sights and savour the wonders of this old town on the river Garonne?
Wrong!
It is to taste the wine at the Chaters vineyard and winery of course!
This is expertly run by a particularly enthusiastic English couple who bought the failing vineyard which, under previous ownership, just sold the harvest to the local co-operative. The Chaters now do the whole show from the grape to the bottling plant and the marketing. It is all very professional and they have received many accolades from French judges already in only seven years of operation.
We are expecting to be taken into a damp cave or cool cellar, as is normally the case on these occasions and are therefore surprised to be shown into what appears to be a comfortable sitting room complete with armchairs and bookcases with a few wine bottles well displayed on surrounding shelves.
Then comes the excellent "blah blah blah" in English. There's time for questions and off we go again, tasting and buying more than we should. We will be keeping these for special occasions won't we? well, er.... like tonight?
"FINCA" Alan and Nicki Robinson's boat,
a Linsen Sturdy Classic
*Well, tonight we are dining at home with the latest arrivals and boat neighbours, Alan and Nicki Robinson who have a very smart Linsen Sturdy Classic. Of course there's got to be a return match and so it goes on.....Yes of course we enjoy it, but you get my drift...?
It is really hot now (like 35°C) and the two dogs spend most of their time lying in cool places throughout the day. I do regular swimming in the Garonne which flows past us in the Bordeaux direction, only a few yards away from Body and Soul.
Against the current, I can just about hold my own without getting anywhere - like using a running machine in the Gym but infinitely more invigorating.
Lucie has fixed up some drapery around our bimini to shield us from the sun's harshest rays. Our beloved boat resembles a Morrocan Casbah.
After a swim , it is tempting to have the odd cool beer.... but there you go again.
Body and Soul - The Morrocan Casbah Look
Eurofizz or not, supermarket beer costs from E0.35 for a 50cl can. How any bar can justify charging more than two Euros per glass of only 25cl., is beyond comprehension. Their mark-up is ridiculous. Understandable if they were always full, but very few of them are and they are sometimes charging E2.50. One gulp and it's gone.
Lucie's birthday is looming and she has already had her present from me - a new sofa bed from Ikea. (Well, it's an improvement on the frying pan I gave her last year!)
This gives us greater space but also a better double bed facility for visiting guests. Lucie haggles a good price for the outgoing "Futon".
The new-sofa bed viewed from the bedroom corridor
Viewed from the kitchen
Dogs are forbidden on this
Here are two more photos of the port of Meilhan now getting a radical face-lift in advance of most of the season. You can enlarge all these photos by clicking on them.
The services provided here are second to none. Mike and Cathy deserve their business successes. We can now get on-line through their Wi Fi connection to the internet - yet another of their services provided.
Chris and Sioban Nunn are coming to stay this weekend, (more drinks) then Lucie is off to meet up with Sophie and Steve with Charlie at her old friend's house near Beziers for a week - What am I going to do? -then there's the formal opening of the port with the Mairie and lots of free bubbly, barbecue etc; followed by visiting rellies and the start of the evening markets in Meilhan; then there's my week's holiday on a Jazz teach-in - it's going to be a hard time for us both but, as oft' said, all in all, what with bad backs and having to deal with matters of extreme self discipline and the noisy frogs all through the night...
- it isn't all plain sailing, y'know!
June 11, 2009
Bad Backs & Back to Basics-(It isn't all plain sailing, y'know! part 13)
We decide to return to Meilhan which is within a bus ride from Marmande where I now have a hospital appointment at noon on the 9th of June. Let me explain. Whilst thoroughly enjoying these lovely old waterways with their tranquility, natural beauty and perfect peace, there are certain wilder activities in which one must engage from time to time, just to ring the changes. Staying in one place, however gorgeous, is not really an option if one is curious about another just up the canal or down the river.
A broken man at Vianne where it all happenned with Lucie and Katerina; taken by Tommy.
Going up the Baise in its near flooded state is not difficult at all unless one has a dodgy back. Pulling restraining ropes up from around a bollard in a lock or a mooring ring, getting bikes on and off the roof of the boat, leaping on and off the boat from the quay-side – these are just the sort of thing that does it. Most of the year I am as strong as an ox, or was, but unfortunately less wise. Coming down the Baise in flood, as described in my last edition was probably the last straw. It seems that I have a weakness “faiblesse du dos” which shows itself about three times a year. It usually begins with a warning twinge across the lower back which I ignore. One more seemingly innocent move, like whilst taking a shower for instance and I am “pole-axed” for at least three days after which, having emptied the medicine cabinet of anti-inflamatory and pain killing pills, I’m usually fine. Not so this time and already I feel like a tube of smarties.
At Meilhan moored on the new Quay
This time it doesn’t follow the same pattern, I develop what I can only assume, having never had it before, to be sciatica in the left leg. Ouch! I can neither stand up properly, walk, nor lie down and my left leg hurts right down to the knee - Lucie calls the local GP whilst we are at Vianne (on the Baise) waiting for the arrival of our Swedish friends Tommy and Katerina. This is on the day after another French Bank Holiday.
In his own words, the doctor says that his surgery is “black with people” but he still arrives with his black bag, just after lunch. He examines me properly on board “Body and Soul” and prescribes a series of pills from the pharmacy in this small village and later calls back with a letter from him to the Hospital in Marmande, confirming the appointment he has made for me to have a scan. It’s probably a slipped disc. (We look up “Prolapsed disks” in our “Family Health” book and promptly wish we hadn’t.) Total cost – 32 euros plus the pills. We give him the details from our “Carte Vitale”. It all seems so efficient and straight forward. We have had so much evidence of the quality of this French health service, admittedly mostly anecdotal, but they (the French) do appear to have got it right - Who knows at what overall cost to the tax payer, but I feel well cared for and things happen quickly. You are never left in doubt and your wife is always included in the process. There appears to be great confidence in the system. That is surely the final test.
Part of the Meilhan camping site taken from the port.
Back in Meilhan, (pronounced “Mayon” with a silent “n”) we pick up with all the friends, both French and English, that we met on our first visit. It’s as if we have come home and the red wine flows. Teddy and Spud seem pleased to be back too. The port itself (the “Halte Nautique”) has been completely but tastefully modernised. It is soon to be “opened” formally by the Mairie. The camp site – not 50 feet away from us but hidden by well-leafed plane trees – again, is really attractive and tastefully laid out. We have booked a spot with plenty of shade for the Falshaw family holiday (Alan, Amanda, Harry and Lois). They arrive on the 28th July. The river Garonne is flowing quite slowly now and beaches and coves are beginning to appear on its stony banks.
More of the campsite from the port
The latest news (now Thursday 11th June) is that I've been to the Hospital followed by an immediate consultation with the local GP who seems very nice. I had a scan which confirms that I have a slipped/herniated disk. We are trying the Cortizone treatment first before talking about an operation and I feel better already!
The Capitainerie/pub run by Mike and Cathy. You can also see the Barbecue which is free for anyone to use.
People are being very kind, sympathetic and gently humorous as they occasionally see me hobbling painfully to the dustbins or the port bar in the Capitainerie.
I haven’t managed the steep climb to the village yet – but as I have oft said – it isn’t all plain sailing, y’know!
May 28, 2009
Barrage Jumping on the Baise (It isn't all plain sailing y'know ! part 12)
Click on this map for larger, more readable version
You'd think, after boasting nearly five years on the French Waterways, with more than 6000 kilometres and probably some 1500 locks under our belts, as it were, that we would have learnt to expect the unexpected. Anyone who has steamed down the fearsome river Rhone and survived the Etang de Thau - well I mean, we are not exactly crossing an ocean here in the cosy inland waterways of France so what more could there be to throw at us?
Through one portico to another at Vianne
Nérac, simply uniaue.
"The greater the pride, the nastier the fall" - that ancient maxim. We should by now, after a number of near misses and lucky escapes, have the humility to know that there is always a surprise around the corner and that one never ceases to learn something new on each trip.
The Baise is running particularly fast during this trip. Judging from the time it takes us to do the little distance from Buzet to Vianne. I would guess that it is flowing much faster "over the ground" than the speed we would normally travel in the still waters of the canals. This means that going up it is a slow process and expensive on fuel. Navigation priority is also against us and we must give way to those coming in the downstream direction because, as we come to realise, they have fewer options in an emergency. They have no means of stopping and - on a hired boat, they have all of a ten minute training session behind them, if they are lucky.
Local produce from the Marché at Nérac The river Rhone, although just as fast flowing, affords vastly more space to manoeuvre and we had no problems that are worth a story when we came down it, two years ago. It is a wide and generous river with lots of water. Relatively speaking, the Baise, though beautiful, is just a fast flowing stream. There is no room for error. In places it has barely enough room for two boats to pass one another and it sports many tight bends in both directions with plenty of overhanging branches to scrape the livery paint from one's sides or remove one's bicycles from their slots or precious aerials from one's mast.
The significance of this danger does not fully occur to us at first and until we reach the end of the navigable part of the river. (Valence-sur-Baise is some sixty three kilometres from Buzet) We are one of only six boats on the river, all of us travelling in the upstream direction. There is no downstream traffic. So far no-one has been allowed up it in order to come down it; if you get my drift?
We are the first to test the waters. But this situation is about to change dramatically with the coming of yet another French bank holiday. Frankly, I am quite pleased to be alive and to tell the tale. "Un mauvais quart d'heure" as they say over here although, in this case seemingly, lasting a lot longer. Anyway this is how it happened...
So we stay many nights in Valence-sur-Baise, which is indeed a delightful town set up on a hill to the left of our mooring. We discover that it is free and that the Capitainerie is as yet unoccupied. We meet some new and surely good friends. We spend our pension in the town and eat just one meal in the restaurant which has just opened for the season, close by. We are invited out and we provide our own welcome in return. It rains quite a lot more and there is quite a bit of mud on the quay which is a nuisance. The waters keep rising albeit slowly so we decide to take our leave, just in case of worsening conditions.
One relatively easy lock on the way up.
Body and Soul is correctly moored facing up-stream and because of the current, and risking the propeller on unseen rocks, we choose to hold the stern fast so that the bow is swept round by the current. I cast off from the stern with her bow now pointing in the right direction. It must have looked very competent from the shore but when I snatch a glance backwards, if there was anyone watching they are already well out of sight. We must be doing seven Kilometres per hour and I have hardly put her into gear. I feel that I am out of control and realise with horror that I have to speed up in order to gain any way (steerage) at all. We must now be doing about nine Klm/hour - probably faster than we have ever been even on a straight bit of a canal, or when trying to be in time for the pub before closing. But the engine is still just ticking over. There is no turning back, the river is too narrow. We are trapped in a headlong rush for the sharp left bend before the first lock.
I have to say, under most circumstances, I try my best to be British. I stay cool. I crack the jokes.. This is different. I panic. My wasted life flashes before my eyes. I try to think of some good times but can only think about life jackets. Even if we get round the first corner, what happens when I have to accelerate into what seems to be a tiny passageway, a mere crack in the mud bank, not four metres wide, leading to the lock? If I miss this I'll be over the barrage in a flash and two metres down on to the rocks beneath in a heap of mangled steel from Liverpool.
Vianne suspension bridge over the Baise. You can see what the river is like - narrow, fast, muddy and full of overhanging trees either side.
I try to slow down by jamming her into reverse. No good - we begin to swivel like a dead leaf down a drain. I shut my eyes and force myself to do the opposite and under almost full revs. with tiller hard left we shoot into the lock channel and crash our bow mercifully into a soft mud bank. Just a bit of mud but we're out of the current and are able to ease ourselves into the lock which is open. Phew!
Lucie jumps, like an apprehensive gazelle, to zap the zapper on the lock-side with her key - that special "thingy" which starts the lock cycle. The gates shut behind us and she climbs back on board with the end of a rope which she has deftly lassoed around a bollard with her free arm. She isthe lady with the ropes and quite a star in her role now. Yeeehah! I am proud of her.
Approaching with caution All goes well, if a little too quickly. We could do with a rest really. However we subside smoothly and the gates open on to the next torrent as we rejoin the river, the water is gushing over the barrage to our left and mercifully behind us and we are swept away once more into more unknown waters.
Now it's probably another axiom that most people know; it's true of any river. Water flows more slowly around the inside of a bend. It stands to reason that one should keep to the inside of every bend in order to avoid being swept into the bank by uncontrollable forces on the other side. The practicalities of this however are less obvious when going downstream and approaching a blind left-hand bend. Basically you are on the wrong side of the "road", with scant control but hoping - well, praying actually - that the guy in a plastic hire boat coming the other way knows that he has to, perversely, give way to downstream traffic. The reasons are clearly printed in his manual ( but he won't have read it yet !) and to which I have already alluded. At this point he will not know that his holiday is about to be ruined by some maniac in a twenty seven ton steel barge which will cut through him like the proverbial knife through melted butter, coming at him on the wrong side.
Our key-side restaurant at Valence-sur-Baise And so it goes on for several more locks, bends and near misses until, on approaching Condom I find my confidence is slowly returning. But pride comes before a fall once again. I want to enter this smart town looking good and as if we knew what we were doing. I ask Lucie to take over the tiller whilst I go to the bow to wash off the mud that we acquired when I collided with that mud bank earlier. I haven't been "gone" for more than three minutes when I hear a dreadful cry from the stern. I look up at once to see the proximity of the right hand bank, complete with huge overhanging branches of oak, willow and spiky brambles.
An idea of what we were up against
We are too near for me to get back to the tiller - not that I would have had time to do anything effective. There is another scream as Lucie sees what is already happening to Body and Soul as we grind to a halt amongst some fearsome fronds. Our chimney stack is down, dented and lying on the roof severely wounded. There is dust and dirt flying everywhere and we have lost some flowerpots, including my pet lemon tree, overboard. Some brambles stick their spikes through the "houdini" hatch and through open windows like some unwelcome "triffid". The oak tree has embraced us in its solid branches and we are stuck fast. Damage to the paintwork is yet to be seen and mercifully the "bimini" (our expensive but essential rain and sunshade over the stern deck) is still untouched.
Well, which side shall we go? Wounded chimney stack and hole We eventually extract ourselves with great difficulty and a bit more collateral damage as the powerful flow of the Baise, as if punishing me for my arrogance and to "twist the knife", is still pushing us forward and dragging us through the branches. Something good always seems to come out of these calamities. I'm grateful for this thought, as we limp through Condom as fast as we dare and without stopping as planned. Lucie and I have learnt not to shout at each other when things go wrong. We're a good team and "we all make mistakes" - another worthy maxim!
But life certainly isn't all plain sailing y'know.
May 11, 2009
We are here! - updated each time we move...
Edited on 25th May 2009. Click on this for a larger version!
We've had a lovely voyage up the Baise river, so far. Just a few hire boats in either direction. Upstream has been slow because of a fast current but locks are absolutely no problem and very beautifully constructed and maintained. Moored last night (7th May) at Vianne with free electricity and water. One of the best moorings we have ever experienced in every respect with plenty of room on its beautiful quay.
We walked this 4-walled bastide town which is clearly a tourist hot spot during the high season. Yet another beautiful mill ruined and neglected apart from the hydro plant; used to be a restaurant at some time in the recent past. The menu chalk board still to be seen but overgrown by scrub trees. Rather like the mill at Aiguillon but in a nicer setting and a splendid suspension bridge made of wood and steel. Had a beer in one of the local bars in the square and bought stuff in one of the two general stores. One "Vival" and one independent. Plenty of lovely craft shops including crockery, leatherwear and glass blowing which is sighted in the defunct railway station. A delightful place altogether. We leave the next morning after breakfast having decided to do the whole extent of the Baise relatively quickly and to make the return journey at our leisure, visiting those places we have partially ignored, on the way back.
I write this as we settle down for a night at Nérac on a free site before the main port. Excellent if you do not need electricity. We have walked around the town which is fairly closed today as it is another bank holiday. We have seen the result of a huge cliff fall which happenned only last week. An enormous boulder (several thousand tons of stone) suddenly decided to depart from its place in the cliff just above the River near to the old bridge. Apparently no-one was hurt. The market should be something good tomorrow.
The engine is showing signs of over heating (goes up to 85°) if rev-ing too much or not moving. We need to clean out and refresh the keel cooling tanks. Hey ho. I've now looked into the engine manual and am relieved to find that the temperature is well within the norms. 85° to 95°C so that's OK!
Now we have left Nérac after the market, which was excellent and where we bought our annual fucia hanging basket which now adorns the poop deck. Colours deep red and deep blue to go with our livery. Lots of photos of Nérac which we loved. Many of these will be included on our Baise album in the left hand column of this blog. (patience please!)
Left Nérac after lunch on a cruise to Moncrabeau where we stay the night having fused the electric supply. Lovely village on a steep climb. Nothing there of use. Had a tin of beer and a perrier with Luce and friendly bar person and several apparently stray dogs. It rains all night and next morning when we take off for Condom and possibly Valence Sur Baise. We arrive at Valence around 6:30pm and take a walk around the very place we visited some months ago by car with our friends, Jo and Tim.
These two pictures are taken at Nérac, the first being taken of our mooring and the second from the boat towards to town itself.
Condom was suffering the end of a pop festival and we decided not to stay there because of all the drunken youths. We will "take it in" on our return, and do it proper justice.
Now we are at Valence-sur-Baise, as mentioned, which is a real treat of a small town set upon a hill up to the left of our mooring which is very cosy- being supplied with water and electricity - apparently at E2 per night after E4 for the first night. As yet, no sign of Monsieur Capitaine. There is a tented restaurant within 100 feet of us which sells mainly steaks - it is also a bar which is handy.
OOps! Just having a drink on my terrace and
then.........
Massive rock fall happened last week.
April 28, 2009
Where the hell are we? (or It isn't all plain sailing y'know! part 11)
Despite map, chart, reference book, compass, binoculars and the everlasting "to do" list, we often forget where we are and what day or date it is. The weather in March and April is variable and therefore a major influence upon what happens each day. We don't plan anything too much in advance. Every morning however, Lucie and I have a "What's the recipe to day, Jim?" session, whilst we have breakfast during which time plans for our day's activities emerge. The system has worked well for us but clearly if time were of essence - for example - if on a week's cruising holiday on a hired boat - we would have deadlines to keep - we could not afford such casual indifference to the passage of time.
Thankfully, we have no such pressure or burden with which to contend. One might say that we have all the time that is left to us on this earth and we find ourselves taking each day as it comes so that we can fully appreciate the unexpected - a chance visit from a new friend for instance - the discovery of a great little village nearby - or, finding another source of free wood for the wood burner or some cheap supply of fresh local produce - or looking up a rare bird or tree that we have just seen. We might decide to stay on board reading or blogging, playing the piano, watching a DVD film, cooking, doing découpage whilst listening to the rain on the roof! Then there's the boat maintenance to attend to... yes well, another day perhaps. There's just been an invitation from "so and so" for pre-dinner drinks on their boat, thank goodness we didn't plan anything! QED - you see what I mean?
Never-the-less, just for the record, I am determined to start a "We are here" map as a running blog to enable readers to keep abreast of our progress....and for me to keep a handle on things which in turn will help me relate our story. Here goes the first effort. If you click on it you should get the full size version....It's not clear enough yet but the idea is good I think.
You will soon find an album in the left hand column in which there will be several of these maps showing where we have been but this will take some time to collate.
Click on this map to get a more readable version.....please!
This is the port at Meilhan where we want to stay for the winter 2009/10. It (the Port) is run by an English couple - Mike and Cathy (Ricketts), who run the Capitainerie and the hire boats owned by a British Company, Minervois Cruisers.
We have already met so many interesting people here, both French and English, that this may become our resting place at last. It's that spot on this earth to which we will probably return to each year.
....what a beautifull place to call home!
The picture is taken from the hill top village of Meilhan, looking down on the port - with the wonderful river Garonne in the background. You can just see Body and Soul and Vertrouwen moored outside the tiny Capitainerie, which doubles up as a bar and barbecue spot. Click on it for a better view.
The postal address and telephone numbers are as follows: Minervois Cruisers, Halte Nautique, 47180 Meilhan-sur-Garonne, France.
Tel. 0033 (0)962313707
email meilhan@minervoiscruisers.com
web site www.minervoiscruisers.com
If you want a really good family holiday on beautifully British built narrow boats on the best of the French canal system, you can rely on these people for an excellent variety of boats for any combination of people - and the service to boot. Just click on the above web site and have a look for yourself, we thoroughly recommend them.
February 25, 2009
Hooray! Hooray! the sun has got his hat on - another food blog from Lucie
Spring look inside Body&Soul
Don't forget to click on any of these photos to get a larger version - much clearer, you'll see!
How delicious after all the rain and recent fairly violent storms to awaken to the sun dappled ceiling on our cosy barge. There is no denying it has a magical effect on the soul. Even the slightly rundown aspect of Castelsarrasin blossoms into romantic shabby chic under it's warm golden light. Good or bad weather always has the effect of inspiring me to cook something. Cooking is a joyous experience. Of course, I can only speak for myself. It cheers me up when the weather is cold and grey and engenders a celebration of the happiness that always occurs when sun follows rain.
As previously mentioned, one of the special delights of our life in France is sharing the passion for food that its people have for their bountiful local and regional products. I recently listened to a radio program on Europe 1 debate on the lack of family life, no more shared meals, the increase in ready-made microwave food. The dulling that occurs within a family unit due to the influence of the TV blaring and droning on thoughout the day and night, overtaking and drowning all that is stimulating between people. The loss of the small local town specialist food shops closing because of the giant crushing steps of the supermarkets chains. There are still more family run shops in the towns in France than in the UK, but one wonders how long this will last when this generation of shopkeepers are no longer.
The local markets continue to thrive once and sometimes twice a week. It is true to say that some of the stallholders are only selling produce bought from a wholesaler, these are easy to spot and avoid. The smaller the stall, the more elderly the stallholder, the more likely the produce has been grown in time honoured tradition and belief. They proudly boast the lack of chemicals. The taste is wonderful, the vegetables are slightly mishapen and uneven, only seasonal and regional, no point in trying to grow anything not suited to the local earth and climate.
In the town and in the markets, there are several types of butchers. They often specialise in certain meats. For instance you will find a horse butcher, a pork butcher and an all-round butcher. The price per kilo is very often only 50 centimes or less more expensive than meat in the supermarkets and much better quality, sourced from local breeders. Some supermarkets will contract out their butcher counter and one can be pleasantly surprised but on the whole I prefer to stick to the old fashioned butchers shop full of sons and nephews helping the governor. Each butcher's shop will also specialise in producing some deli-counter goodies such as their own black and white pudding, patés, saucissons and prepared casseroles and homemade dishes to take home and reheat. There are also some unusual dishes such as salade de museau (pig snout salad) pieds de porcs (pigs trotters). The french do not waste a thing and prize hearts, liver and kidneys, tripe etc highly. The price of offal is more expensive than in the UK. The black pudding is quite delicious served with unctuous mash potato and fried apple slices or as a tarte tatin!
Fresh grilled herrings and homemade chips Fish of course, is just as expensive in France as in the UK but they have many more unusual fish than us due to the Brittany and Mediteraneen seas. However, scottish salmon whether fresh or smoked is very highly prized and expensive, but the French buy a lot around Christmas time. They certainly know how to disply their catch. I treated us to a "plateau de fruits de mer" for Christmas Eve. I chose our favourite, some large prawns and oysters. It was laid on a deep bed of dark green seaweed with a generous whoosh of clear cellophone and a bow tied at the top - a glorious display of deliciousness. I served it with thinly sliced fresh fennel and small boiled potatoes with a leomon vinaigrette and a dish of caper mayonnaise to dip the prawns into. A tasty chilled local Sauvignon - heaven!
At the thursday market here in Castelsarrasin which I never miss. They offer a variety of root vegetables such as parnsips, chervil bulbs, black carrots, salsifis, black radishes, chayottes - not always the case in other areas of France. I have developed a good relationship with my favourite producers and return to see them every thursday.
There is a very nice young man who only sells rocket, watercress and lovely potatoes. Another lady in the chicken market saves me 3 euros of ready-washed mixed leaves of frisée, rocket, red radiccio, webb and little gem which lasts the whole week and tastes delicious. It bears no resemblance to the limp pappy tasteless supermarket salad that seems to turn brown at the edges within a couple of days. I do find it slightly upsetting to see the hens and guinea fowl, live and tied together at the legs, also the furry long earred rabbits huddled together in the wooden boxes waiting to be bought. It is still very much part of France's rural life.
Some examples of the wonderful produce available
Famous Agen prunes
The market starts at 7am so a quick snozette is understandable!
Apart from the vegetables, there are also juicy oranges and tangerines, fat crispy Fiji and golden delcious apples grown locally and dispensed like jewels by my favourite sister Dominique and Sylvie. I decide to try making some apple chutney to enhance the tandoori chicken kebabs I plan to make. For the recipes look at Lucie's food section of this blog on the main page.
The sun has made us impatient to set off again so we have arranged with the lockeeper to let us out of the port next week and plan to reach Moissac in time to greet our friends Tim and Jojo aboard; So better get on with preparing for the forthcoming slow cruise towards Bordeaux, the Baise river and who knows, maybe our beloved Lot river again.
February 18, 2009
Is this going to take long, mate? or, (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know! part 10 )
New batteries from the UK arrive at La Capitainerie and I think I am prepared for the battery changing job to commence. It's a big expense but we have budgeted for it. It's a major job too, believe me! Five large, heavy and old "deep cycle" batteries are to come out of their battery box, which incidently, is designed by someone who obviously doesn't like me, - five new ones are to go in their place. We are in the engine room bent double. It's raining hard and its cold. The old ones have been in place for five years and apparently have done well. Let's hope these new ones last even longer.
I plan to keep the three best of the five old ones as additional ballast on the starboard side of the engine room. We have always listed slightly to Port. I am fearful of electrics. So is George but he kindly lets me get on with it, benevolently looking on. There's a 300 amp fuse to reconnect and two important looking red switches to be moved to somewhere accessible to a fireman, should we ever need one. Someone told me that direct current is more dangerous than alternating current. It makes the muscles clench and lock. If you are gripping a spanner and touching the wrong bit, you can't let go and you die. Alternating current throws you off. Lucie asks if I have checked my Will lately. We are wearing rubber gloves and gum boots.
Lifting the old ones out with surprising ease, we set about removing the battery box in order to clean it out and, more importantly, get rid of any rust underneath it, caused by my over- zealous topping up with distilled water over the last 4 years. I shovel out pounds of rust and apply de-rusting paint. Battery acid can make a nasty hole in one's hull. George screws the box together again, cleans up the mess I made of it with my angle grinder and we're ready to bring in the new batteries.
I fumble nervously with a collection of ill chosen B'n Q spanners and pliers from the bottom of my tool box. George sighs "is this going to take long, mate?" He is poised to be very helpful but is not really impressed by the way I have already sorted and labelled the mass of cables and leads leading to the twelve terminals. It resembles Medusa's hairdo.
Red goes to the positive and black to the negative. "Oh please - I do know that! - I had a crystal set once, you know, and I was leader of the Peewit Patrol - 16th Epping Forest (South)" (ref. Boy Scout days. ed)
"Where do these go to then? " says George - holding up two leads that I must have missed. "We'll find somewhere" I reply testily. I am easily persuaded to borrow his superior spannners.
I have numbered the batteries from left to right, one to six adding a + or a - sign. There are twelve terminals, including the two on the starter battery, (this doesn't need changing) all with a mass of wiring emanating from them. I counted around 25 cables to be labelled and reassigned to the shiny new batteries. This is more a ghastly nightmare than an adventure into the unknown. I've absolutely no idea where these wires all go to but we switch the whole lot off, to be safe. This leaves us with mains electricity only, from the shore line.
"All twelve-volt equipment, such as the loo pump, water pump and some lighting will be "off" for the day, at least, darling!" I tell the crew.
I stick the garden hose through the galley window for Lucie to use as we have guests coming for dinner. "the water pump doesn't work now, remember silly". Lucie is cooking on gas and some other friends arrive to watch and laugh. We have a cup of tea and it rains harder. It's getting late.
George is getting colder by the minute as he presides over me. "It's beginning to come together now" I say without much confidence. George insists on seeing the job through. I would be happy to leave it until tomorrow. We'll get it done in the dark if we rig up a light. OK, I rig up a light from the 240 volt shore line. We leave the two loose cables dangling and hope to find out what they are for, when something in the boat doesn't work. It's a fine theory.
It's dark now, but we reckon we've "cracked it". I say
"Please don't use that word," says George. It's time to switch on the red switches and then the inverter. A loud "crack" and a blue flash from the engine room..... What have I done? George looks at me with his, now familiar, resigned look.
Oh woe! Absolutely nothing works of course. Clearly I've made a hash of it. So we console ourselves with a few glasses of red, as is customary in these parts (the beer's crap) and resolve to call a proper electrician the next day. I am distraught throughout the night, I toss and turn and get very little sleep. Things always seem worse than they actually are when you are tired, they say; I know that. But they still seem just as bad when I eventually get up. Have I wrecked the "Inverter"? Have I ruined anything else? Are our days aboard numbered?
Lucie rings our French electrician next morning. ( This is now reminding us of that marvellous Fawlty Towers story with the Irish Builder and Sybil - "Oh don't smile") He's here by 11am as promised. He mutters something upon seeing our work, I am not sure what - though I'm sure I hear the word "Crochet" amongst a lot of others. I see what he means. It is not a pretty sight but within three minutes he grabs one of the cables and says "voila" and there, for all to see is a red cable on a negative terminal. Behold, it has one of my labels still attached and with the wrong sign on it, in my writing. I am to blame. What have I done apart from blowing a 300amp fuse? I've blown my creditability as an electrician - that's what. Not that I claim to have had any.
Of course I haven't got a spare 300 amp fuse, it isn't every day you blow one of these you know!But I have got Saint George. The fuse is a funny looking flat thing about three inches long. One can see that the strip in the middle has melted. "Leave it to me" he says and before I've had time to look up a supplier on the Internet, he has got me out of trouble again by cutting a strip off the fuse itself and straddling the gap between the severed ends. Bingo! everything works - 'er well, except the central heating system. Ah yes, those dangling leads that George found.... oh well.
I had to give him something to do, didn't I?
January 27, 2009
January 20, 2009
Do us a favour, mate! (or, It isn't all plain sailing, y'know! Part 9)
Like any other good team, activities are shared equably between each member according to their skills and inclinations. This way, provided it is not, to coin a phrase, “beyond our collective ken”, tasks on board get done and problems solved pretty well. Tanks get filled and emptied, food gets sourced, bought and cooked, wood gets cut, washing up done, dogs get walked and fed, engines get serviced, surfaces get painted, general domestic and administrative matters sorted etc etc – you know how it is - I keep an eye on the rate of exchange and do all the rest! 
Don’t be fooled by the simplicity of this idea. It’s quite often “beyond our Ken”. Barge owners like George and Sue and us – proper “live-aboards” as we call ourselves – live a life of constant problem solving, some of which would tax the best skills of Barry Bucknal, just to keep our homes up to the mark and comfortable, for the rest of our planned lives. It is called survival. We don’t have the luxury nor the money to leave the problem to next year’s summer visit or to some agent or even to sell the boat to some other sucker and pop back to the safety of the house back home when things go wrong. Take George’s recent engine problem for instance. His original old engine in Vertrouwen suffered catastrophic failure, which meant he had to buy a new one and have it fitted, whilst still living aboard and still afloat. No mean feat, I can tell you.
I mean, I can bang a nail in like the rest of them, but George, he's an original - fearful of nothing, he can turn his hand to any job however challenging it may seem to the likes of us normal DIY enthusiasts. He has proved our saviour on several occasions. So the affectionate word “Mate” becomes an important part of our every day vocabluary. George and I use it all the time and, believe me, you don't have to hail from Orpington!
There is no real equivalent to the slang English word “mate” in French although George is indeed ”notre copain” – George and Sue are “nos copains” – she being a “copine” – but ”Thanks mate” translates as “merci mon vieux” and to me this isn’t quite the same somehow. Anyway, we have become important “mates” with George and Sue. We have come to know them (and their visiting family) well over the last year or so as we have travelled through the Canals going westwards and for the summer season on the Lot. We get on well and there is much laughter and raucous rivalry, especially between George and me. More importantly, there is a tremendous amount of “mutual aid” between us. (a term first coined by the famous biologist and philosopher Propopkin, I believe).
As mates we like to be independent of each other but are always on hand to help when help is needed or even sometimes when it isn’t. Whatever the problem, he has the best answer and he has helped me on an embarrassingly large number of occasions - too many to write about now. 
In return there are some notable failures on my part as a "mate". For instance - was I there to help George in his hour of need, to remove some drunken thugs from his boat in the middle of the night after the evening market at Fongrave? No I was not. Both Lucie and I were there but on the
boat next door fast asleep and oblivious to his plight until the next morning. I have always wanted to use my black truncheon too!
Beyond making the jokes, I have not been a lot of help over his engine problems either – he has had a real professional to do that - anyway perhaps jokes were not altogether appropriate when Sue fell down the engine room hatch, braking her collar bone and badly spraining her ankle, but it is all that could be expected of me in the circs. I was glad to be able to help George by crewing Vertrouwen on her first run with the new engine, to her winter mooring in Castelsarrasin from its mooring at Malause - It was quite a laugh when his steering gear failed because of a sheered pin in the drive chain as we came out of a lock – with four of the eight locks still to go. I steered Vertrouwen using the emergency tiller stuck between my legs on the stern, whilst George operated the levers in the Wheelhouse. We both managed the ropes too. It was a splendid team effort. No-one even noticed.
For their part, George and Sue have not only dragged us off the rocks at Clairac (see “Champagne on the Rocks” above) but have been marvelous and energetic collectors of fallen wood for our ever-hungry wood burner. Frankly, I have to admit that Lucie has been a greater help to both George and Sue than I, especially with her fluent language skills which must have been very helpful to them, as indeed it is to me, since virtually they have none. She has steered them through the morass of French bureaucracy with her usual aplomb and is now giving regular French lessons to the pair of them.
And so it goes on. George will no doubt be helping me install my five new domestic batteries which will be arriving from the UK any day now. We had considerable difficulty in getting two faulty batteries out and temporarily wiring the remaining three in. After I accidentally cut a hole in one of them with my angle grinder whilst hacking off a badly designed front bit of the battery box ( releasing a fairly lethal amount of acid on to the engine room floor ) he will no doubt be offended if I tried to do the job by myself. Thank God for George say I, he’s a bloody good mate !
January 15, 2009
Cabin Fever takes hold - Lucie's first blog venture
The weather has been quite dreary, foggy and damp the last few weeks. We both looked at each other over the leisurely breakfast we enjoy every morning, and simultaneously agreed that it was time to do something to change our mood.
I looked up the trains to see what was feasible for a day trip and we settled on Cahors. We had driven fleetingly to it with our french friend Betty last winter. We also wanted to do a little "rekkie" to see if the winter mooring on that side of the Lot river might be even more appealing than the lower end of the Lot. We had been discussing various options for the future. As usual I am always planning too far ahead, but I believe that good things are usually taken up very speedily by others, so it is just as well to be ahead of the crowd!
I chose market day for our day out, called our two friends Chris and Siobhan who live quite close to Cahors to see if they fancied meeting up. They were delighted and we settled on the Café Interlude as the place to start with a hot café créme and croissant at 9 am.
Everything went according to plan. It meant an early start. Spud and Teds looked suspiciously at the back-pack Malcolm had got out, in which to put shopping. George kindly agreed to let the boys out midday. We would be back late afternoon. They looked unconvinced but the dark and damp morning air was not to their liking either so they settled in the warm boat to await our return and be "on guard" during our abscence.
All the trains were more or less on time, we had to change at Montauban but the whole journey only took us 1hr.30mins including the delay of 15mins. Having studied our Rough Guide we knew which direction to take after arriving at the station. We were too early for Chris and Siobhan so decided to take a preliminary peek at the market taking place around the cathedral - not many people about but it looked colourful and welcoming. Within a few minutes some delicious rocket, purple carrots and some fresh pasta had been purchased. Then it was time to meet our friends.
Much laughter as Chris arrived in his hat sporting a feather to compete with Malcolm's Indiana Jones brown one! The little café was full of habitués being enthusiastically welcomed and served by the patron. A quick catch up on our respective snipets of news and off we went to discover more culinary treasures amidst the market stalls. I dashed from one stall to another rather like the black labrador in the DHL ads. In the end Chris and Malcolm decided to stand patiently chatting to each other in the middle of the market, enabling me to go on my buying spree, spasmodically returning to deposit my purchases in the rucksack on Malcolm's back. Happy and satiated, having indulged my "food fix", and to my delight, found some chervil tubers which I had not seen since the weekly market in Briare in Burgundy. These are a delicious cross between parsnips and chesnuts, in flavour and looking like small brown carrots. Beautiful dark green shiny watercress, fresh mackerel and a mixture of wild mushrooms were added to the bag. Recipes were rushing round my excited head. Just before leaving we decided to pop into the covered market "Les Halles", a veritable cornucoppia of deliciousness. However, my jaw did drop to the floor and my specs trembled off the end of nose as I spied a brie, layered with black truffles at 130 euros per kilo!!
Cahors is practically surrounded by the majestic river Lot which meanders round its "teardrop" shape. It's medieval origins have been well restored, and arguably, its most famous building is the 14th century Valentré bridge. (see album on left column for more). We were happily guided through its various alleyways dotted with unusual architectural details adorning the front of the charasmatic houses.
Whilst walking round Chris had been pointing out various little inns and restaurants as lunch was going to be part of our day out. We finally settled on a charming, simple, french frequented, restaurant in one of the narrow alleys. We enjoyed the hors d'oeuvre trolley, sander fillet poached and placed on top of a mound of steamed potatoes, carrots, leeks and turnips all drizzled with some of the fish stock, followed by various desserts and cheese, lashing of full bodied and delicious Cahors local wine. Good service with a smile and a more than bearable hole in our wallet. Menu was 11.50 euros each! Chris peppered the conversation with amusing ditties, as ever, which had us laughing a lot. He re-appeared from the loo apologising for having chosen a restaurant doubling as a brothel. He had seen a sign perched on the washbasin "Hors Service". He is as quick as a flash! (it means out of order!).
Refreshed and now totally charmed by Cahors we eagerly set out in their car to have a look at the possible winter mooring quayside owned by Monsieur Babou, the very same man who also owns the marina in the Port of St Sylvestre on the other stretch of the Lot where we moored in the summer. But his boatyard was the only access to a very dreary mooring through a very untidy and unattractive yard. It would have been too good to be true if everything had worked out, but getting Body & Soul to Cahors for a future winter's mooring is now out of the question - never mind - it was time to take the train home. Our friends kindly dropped us off at the station and, amid plans to meet again on Body & Soul for a little 2 day cruise, we hugged and parted.
Our day out had done the trick, our mood was upbeat, the discovery of pastures new had tickled our tastebuds and we came home eager for the locks to open in February so that Mon Capitaine could once again take hold the the tiller and start the next season's adventure. That's it for now, but recipes will follow in due course, keep peeking, recipes and visuals soon to follow, à la prochaine!
January 11, 2009
Our best new year wishes to all "rellies" and friends
Lucie and I had a great few days over the Christmas and new year celebratory period. We are at Castelsarrasin, moored here for the winter with all services provided for a very sensible fee, having had an extremely pleasant and economical summer season on the river Lot. Our Jotul wood burner is permanently burning now with gathered wood from the canal side. We are warm and well and have lots to do and plenty to share it with. We have even joined the local choir, at nearby Moissac and performed several concerts in the local Abbey and other locations. Lucie has cooked several extravagant feasts, both traditional and regional. (See photo albums left) We've drunk a lot of the local wine - enough, I reckon, to light up several seasonal lanterns.
The weather here has been like the UK, very dreary and depressing most of the time - Very little sunshine. Apparently this is most unusual for the area. But, metaphorically speaking, the clouds were lifted dramatically upon the arrival of two Grandchildren, Emily (13) and Cameron (10) Walker ( Jake and Rosemary's children) who visited "Body and Soul" from the 20th Dec to the 24th when they departed, care of AirFrance/Klm, to enjoy a family Christmas up north in Yorkshire. This was three days of uninterrupted laughter and activity, including a visit to a very provincial and traditional circus with Lions, camels and a hippo. Hilarious scrabble and cards went on through the night it seemed, not to mention the Dodge'm and Toboggan rides at the fun fare which goes with it.
Villeneuve -Sur- Lot
Both Lucie and I have been to the Uk to visit relatives of one kind or another. I'm glad to report that we have nothing but good news in this respect. Aunt Lois- on good form - is the same as ever and both Rob and I enjoyed a fine "cold collation" and a glass or two of wine at hers in Reigate. A snooze after lunch has become obligatory on such visits. I then stayed with Robert and Di down in Dover for a few days of fun, then legged it to sister Judy and Jerry in their new house in Peterborough. They are now within easy walking distance of Edward and Claire and most of their grandchildren. Jerry is notably better after his stroke. Judy arranged a super family pre-christmas lunch at hers and we visited Edward and Claire with Amanda, Harry and Lois who came for a night with the intention of lugging me up north for a week at theirs. We played silly card games, drank a lot and fondled Ed's pet snakes. Yes snakes!
Jake, Rosemary and family are now back in China, Beijing. Jake in a new job with a Canadian Company and in a new house to go with it. Amanda and Alan, with whom I spent a week in December on their farm in Barnard Castle, are busy with their two, Harry and Lois, not to mention two Jack Russell pups Otis and Lennie. I was there for Lois's 4th birthday on the 8th Dec., held at the local sports centre with Amanda doing a splendid job with the catering. She has quite a flourishing business now. I had a lovely time there despite the snow and spent time with George and Jean Falshaw who came for a day. ( Alan's parents.) ( See photos in left column) Harry and Lois were just about to "break up" from school and there were carol services and so on to attend. All good stuff!
Emily on her 13th birthday - on board.
After one quick night's stay with Lucie's Sophie, Steven and Charlie I took the EasyJet flight home to Toulouse from Bristol where Lucie came to meet me.
Clive and Aileen in the USA have now moved to Colorado and appear to be in good health but very busy with the Job move from Texas and moving into their new house. Thanks to the new technology we are in fairly regular contact over the "Skype" internet system with all the above, although sadly, I've not heard from Nick recently, I hope he's OK and look forward to seeing him and his partner out here soon.
Anyway, all the very best to all those interested and reading this stuff. Have a very happy year 2009 and please keep in touch with us. We love to hear your news, and hope to have a visit from you if you can. You will not regret it.
Cameron, Emily and me waiting to be fed.
Click on the relevant photo album for more pictures in the left column of this blog. There willbe more added as I find them!
Champagne on the Rocks (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know! Part 8)
It may take some reading to find the reason for this title – Champagne on the rocks – I’ll come to this later……
We always seem to be celebrating something or entertaining someone. The river Lot has us in its grasp from the 15th July when bro Robert has a 70th birthday celebration. It’s now September 25th and we are stuck on it waiting for rain to fall on the Pyrenees so that the waters of the river Garonne rise high enough for us to get across it and back to the rest of the canal system. We are at Aiguillon which is a nice town with a good mooring and free facilities (Electricity and water) and two markets each week. Aiguillon is situated at the confluence of the two rivers. The weather is gorgeous and our last visitors, James and Cherry Liell, enjoy a day-trip upstream to Clairac and back – just 14kms in all. For James and me it's a big reunion and the first real contact since their wedding ten years ago. We drink a great deal of wine, eat lots of Lucie’s food and are taken out for a slap up dinner at their hotel in town the night before their departure – all good fun and far too short.
Then there's my surprise birthday celebration on Sunday 15th sept – organised by Lucie – with Chris and Scioban Nunn and their friends Patric and Anne whom we met when we stayed at the Nunns. On this trip we go from Castelmoron to Clairac and back. I will be describing this later but it is rather embarrassing.
At Rob’s party – another famous family song.
But let’s be clear about this, the great party – Rob’s 70th- is why we sailed up the Lot in the first place and although we are now stuck on it, as already explained, starting with his party and thereafter we have a simply marvelous time. We will be coming back next year, all being well.
The house hired for the party is easily large enough to accommodate all guests including sister Judy Rytina
Sister Judy, sadly without Jerry who is still recovering from a stroke, poor chap. He would have loved it.
Following this lunch, a good warm up before the planned dinner at the Poule au Pot auberge at ………….. nearby, We arrive there, unsurprisingly late, having dropped off at the Nunns delightful house in ……… for a quick glass of early evening bubbly in their garden. We are already pushing the senses a bit by then but amazingly ready to eat what is yet to come. There, outside under the cherry trees and lanterns our table for 16 is already set, complete with a pile of plates at each setting all of which are to be used - A novel idea - I thought. A broth to start, then a Gizier salad – the best I’ve ever tasted, then a huge portion of traditional homemade foie gras to share amongst too few, I guess. But I do my best and help to eat it – quite a lot actually. Delicious! A liberal sprinkling of both red and white wine. Then the main course for which there is a choice of Lamb or Duck, then the cheese course and pud too followed by coffee and …... Delightfully served by an intelligent waitress and the Madame overseeing. God knows how we all get home in one piece but we do and even then we go partying at the house until……. getting to know each other and ……. Judy, Lucie and I are up early next day and off after breakfast to prepare for the boat trip which is to follow…….It's a delightfully damaging few days m’thinks.
George and Sue, our friends on Vertrouwen kindly offer to take half the party - we are technically both licensed to take a maximum of 8 people, so both boats take the lot up the Lot, (sorry), as far as allowed. This is a 16 km trip there and back. A gentle days outing starting and finishing at St. Sylvestre. A picnic lunch prepared by the girls. A beautiful sunny day and a swim somewhere, lashed together somewhere midstream. Fantastic, despite the warning about snakes! Time to recover from the bashing the night before.
You will be wondering, I'm sure, what it is on my birthday trip that embarrasses me. Well you see, our surprise guests bring several bottles of champagne which we all drink as we proceed down the Lot from Castelmoron towards our destination at Clairac where we have a picnic in mind. As Captain of our boat, I should have known better and I am ashamed to say that I was ...er distracted enough by the general "bonhomie" that was going on, to make a "disastrous" navigational blunder.
Lunch on the rocks
As we approach Clairac in the downstream direction we see a magnificent stone arched bridge. The arch on the extreme left is the only one marked for boats to enter. The other much bigger arches, unusually - I have to say in my defence - have no signs at all. Not even a red one. The reason for this peculiarity does not occur to the unwary until it is too late and they find themselves being guided to the Lock. I should know better because I have steered this very course before. But having gone through this arch I decided to round the marker buoy on my right and direct the boat to the quay at Clairac on our right, quite forgetting the purpose of this marker buoy which was to stop mariners from sailing onto the underwater rocks.
It was a bad move. Body and Soul suddenly grinds to a slithery halt on what appears to be a flat stone wall. We are well and truly stuck! No need for mooring ropes here, I think, so after much heaving and shoving with the barge pole - which snaps - we decide to ring George and Sue on Vertrouwen who drop everything to come to our rescue. They are about an hour upstream of us.
By this time there is a dozen or more "Frenchies", gawping at us from the bridge high above us and shouting advice. What do we do? We decide, much to their amazement, to do what the French always do- just like the English stop for tea, the French always stop for lunch. So, whilst we await our galant rescuer's arrival, we sit down for our lunch and, dare I say it, some more bubbly.
It takes several attempts to pull her off and one of the French audience must have rung the Pompiers who in turn must have rung the river men who eventually turn up just after the last- attempt to pull her off succeeded. Anyway we all laughed a lot, mainly at my expense I have to say.
Patrick at the tiller.
There is a rather obvious moral to this story, - best left unsaid! The rest of the trip is uneventful in comparison but I'm pretty sure everyone will remember "champagne on the rocks" and how very enjoyable it was. Thanks for coming!
September 15, 2008
"Les Matelots" (It isn't all plain sailing, y'know! - part 7)
Theodore (Teddy) and Spud, “Les Matelots”, are so much part of our lives afloat it is impossible to imagine life without them. I suppose they are right in believing that We all live in the same kennel, albeit a large floating metal one.
Teddy is a very amenable Norwich Terrier given to us when Spud’s father (Puck) died. He has difficulty in curbing his appetite.
Spud is pack leader – he’s a seven year old Jack Russell. Read on…….
It’s September 2nd and this morning, believe it or not, we are eating local strawberries for breakfast on the “Poop deck”. My wife (Lucie) complains that such ecstacies make me go deaf.
“Actually Darling, funny you should say that,” I reply, “I was just thinking of extending Spud’s training programme for yet another year – he has a habit of ignoring me, it’s as if he is going deaf too”
You see, Spud is always making me look foolish when he totally ignores my call. An observer would be forgiven for thinking that I was calling another dog out of view altogether or that I had got his name wrong. The fact is that, like me with those delicious strawberries all covered in Yoghurt, Spud finds a more interesting thing to do which distracts him. He suffers an almost incurable disease called “Selective deafness”. Arguably, although this phenomenon is caused by creeping senility as far as I am concerned, with Spud it is quite obviously a genetic disorder peculiar to Jack Russells. It was the same with his father, Puck. I have nothing but a great deal of anecdotal evidence for this.
Anyway, inspired by the success that my friend George (from our neighbouring boat, Vertrouwen) seems to be having with his newly acquired 5 month old puppy, called Bosun, I am determined to find a solution to this embarrassing problem. Bosun already, after only three days, can do more on command than my two dogs put together. I watch George carefully and note that he always has a pocket full of tit-bits with which he rewards Bosun each time he does something on command. It’s simple enough, nothing new – I actually gave up this idea long ago after Lucie complained that I always smelled of tinned frankfurter sausages – which was indeed recommended by our dog training lady, as an irresistible reward. That was a long time ago. Year one in my training programme for Spud. So George kindly supplies me with some of his tit-bits - they are odourless and a good alternative. Our two boys love them. I start the new training regime with enthusiasm and renewed hope. I am soon to be disallusioned.
Bosun, our new neighbour - half Spaniel and half Jack Russell.
Boating life for dogs is great – when we are on the move, every day is different. They have all the excitement of visiting new places, new smells at each mooring and either sleeping, running up and down the roof of their kennel-boat or just barking at anything that may be posing a threat – like other dogs on other boats or on the distant banks of the waterway with lots of fauna, like Coypu. Of course, without a garden, they need plenty of walks ashore each day – usually first thing in the morning when I fetch the bread from the nearest boulangerie and then at least twice more when we explore the surrounding towns and villages.
It is now day three of the new training regime and there is already a difference in behaviour. Teddy is an angel – the greedy little chap – he tends to get fat through over eating and is now on a strict diet of carefully weighed dried food which, he clearly thinks, is not enough. This tit-bit idea is like “kind of cool” . I call him to heel- he sits and he is rewarded. Great! I adjust the dried food quantity accordingly, to compensate for the increase in his overall consumption. Simple.
Spud is unusual for a dog. He is not very interested in food and only eats when he has to. Today, we are still in Saint Sylvestre which lies about 58 kilometers up the Lot from where it flows into the Garonne. It’s a beautiful spot and we stay here for several weeks with splendid views of the bridge and the hilltop Basilica high above us.
Morning mist on the Lot at Fongrave
I am modestly proud of my pair of hounds. They are indeed a delight to the eye. Spud likes to take a different route each day so today we venture up to the field of charolais cows near to the village kindergarten. The children are just back from holidays and are running around their playground shouting and screaming excitedly as they see us. They all rush to the perimeter wire fence, as we approach, their faces pressed against it. Both Spud and Teds are off the lead. The cows amble over interestedly. Teddy is wagging his little tail as he pokes his head through the fence. He is adored by a multitude of tiny hands.
Our mooring at Grange sur Lot.
Spud is not interested in the least. He is, after-all, a one man dog. Yes, my dog, I like to think. The rest of the school including some teaching staff are now at the fence uttering cries of delight – lots of “oohs and arrrhs”, in French. I smile proudly and call Teddy to heel “au pied!” I cry. He comes, he sits and is rewarded. More “oohs and arrrhs”. But what is Spud doing?… oh no!……he is starting a peculiar series of circular movements with his body, a sort of ritual dance on the grass by the school fence, something which he always does before relieving himself. This normally lasts for about three minutes before the final crouch……the audience is fascinated. Three minutes is a long time when you are holding your breath. I am horrified because I know what is going to happen.
A picnic with the Nunns before visiting the prune museum.
Chris and Scioban Nunn were old friends of Robert with whom Chris shared an office in the ministry of defence, London, prior to his retirement from the Royal Navy. Now our friends too.
I call Spud to heel, my hand is reaching into my “tit-bit” pocket. It’s Teddy who comes back for more. Spud is oblivious. The children go quieter now and there is a sort of lull, like the silence before an earthquake. One of the brighter children works it out and utters the first of a crescendo of disgusted “yuukks” as the deed is done. It’s a sound which I am unlikely to forget as I slink off, shamefully unwilling to prolong the embarrassement by picking it all up with my “doggy dump” bag. Back to the drawing board for year seven! What happens when those cows do it, I wonder?…. Now there’s a thought!
Just another view of the Lot whilst cruising. Note the logs stored on deck for the coming winter not to mention the basil parsley and fucias and tiny lemon tree cutting..
Today is Monday 8th September 008. We are at Castelmoron-sur-Lot where we have been since Saturday morning. I have a second meeting with Dr.Tony Coope, whom I met for the first time last week when he came to lunch on board Body & Soul. This was a kind of return match and we visit his home up the hill in Laparade. He is planning to convert his huge basement into a studio and keeps his excellent set of drums there. He is a jazz drummer and we may get together when he gets back from the UK some time in November. I have yet to find a double bassist and a front liner or two. Will Lucie learn her guitar in time? or will she be our singer!!!!? mmmmm we’ll see.
Castelmoron-sur-Lot facing down-stream
Castelmoron-sur-Lot lies 22 kms (3hrs by Barge) from where the Lot runs into the Garonne and is supposed to have been the place where we were to winter 2007/8 but the mooring was closed for political reasons too complicated to relate now. We had a lovely time at Capestang instead. We have moved here to be nearer to the river Garonne which one has to cross in order to re-connect with the canal system. Currently because of the lack of rain in the Pyrenees, the Garonne has too little water in it to allow us to cross – a crossing for which one has to book a river pilot who guides you through the dangerous sand banks. This happens regularly each year but we may find that the window of opportunity to go across won’t happen until mid September or even later. We have to ring the pilots each day to ascertain the state of the water levels. “Do we look bothered?” Not at all. What a lovely summer it’s been. We have had this lovely river almost to ourselves since July. Almost no hire boats to get in our way. Fantastic!
The Evening Market at Fongrave where you buy your food from the stalls and then have it cooked for you before taking it to your reserved table. Lots of wine for sale too, of course.
There’s a live band of mixed ability and styles each week and a great chance to meet the French and speak it too!
The river Lot is arguably one of the most beautiful rivers in France. History relates that 234 kms were navigable in earlier times and it is a shame that so many of the old locks and barrages have been left to decay and to become Dis-functional. The good news is that the authorities, who govern the affairs of the river, have agreed to restore much of it over a period of years. Only for the last 4 years has it been navigable from its mouth where it flows into the River Garonne up as far as Lustrac – some 68 kms – and it has been our delightful stamping ground this summer.
Alongside at Lustrac
They may open the river as far as Puy l’Eveque by 2012. This means that some of its most beautiful high-sided stretches will be open to river traffic like us. It is then only a short distance from the next stretch of the river which goes up to Cahors and beyond – a stretch which is, so far, isolated but already navigable. Wonderful – we hope to be there! The other good rumour is that the equivalent body to the UK Electricity Board, the EDF, may soon raise the water level of the Garonne by building a barrage across it in order to create hydro electricity, at a place called Nicole, just south of the junction lock. This will mean that there will always be enough water to enable boats to cross the Garonne throughout the year, to and from the Lot. It will be an enormous improvement for the economy of this area and a great expansion of the waterways for boaters.
Our vague plan – and it has to be vague whilst we remain “trapped” on the river Lot – is to turn West on the Canal Lateral à la Garonne at Buzet towards Bordeaux. We are very interested to see the places like Meilhan, about half way to Bordeaux, where there are, apparently, very good free facilities. Then we will be chugging back to Castelsarassin for the winter season 2008/9 starting 1st November. We may well take a backward step to Toulouse to correct our painting on the hull, in dry dock, in the early spring. Enuff sed…but more to come.
Port de Penne, opposite side of the riverto Saint Sylvestre and upstream of the bridge where we stayed for several weeks.
The boat on the right belongs to Eva and Robert who have lived there for some time.
They invited us to a great Paella party as a return for us having them over to B&S for drinks. We were the only English….well I was anyway….
Morning treats at Campagnac
Getting back to the Dog Training Programme….. Teds is doing fine and is a joy to “promenade”. He never ceases to attract admiration from fellow walkers. Spud is still taking command of me. He is very difficult when off the lead. This morning (Tues 9th sept) for instance, I let him off the lead on the grassy verge leading up to the town centre at Castelmoron. Teds follows me intently “au pied”. I look back to see that Spud has stopped 20 yards back and is sitting down. He is what I call “refusing”. He wants to go up the long stone steps to the road and no matter what I do to discourage him, it is to no avail. In the end, I am forced to go towards him in order to prevent this dangerous idea causing an accident. Seeing that I have done what I am told, he now wags his tail and demands a “tit-bit” by sitting down again.
Can I ask, – without being silly like certain men often are – and dare I say, usually from the farming or hunting /shooting/fishing fraternity - when they tell me to use my stick, boot or even a gun (not that I have one ….. a gun I mean!) - what am I doing wrong?
It isn’t always sunny!
Our mooring at Castelmoron with the “coat-hanger” bridge in the background, seemingly supported by our chimney
Spud, the disobedient little s*d!
Moored at Saint Sylvestre looking across the river Lot towards Bourg De Penne (a basilica standing high above Port De Penne)
– watching the éclipse of the moon.
The side of our gang plank is in the foreground.
It’s OK, I’m alright now, thanks. It’s called a “hospital dive”. Fongrave has never seen the likes of this before.
Dusk at Campagnac
Brother-in-Law, Jean and I take a dip at Fongrave
The French take their fishing very seriously, like their bicycling. This shows some of the high technology involved at a fishing competition that we witnessed at Port De Penne, opposite side to Saint Syvestre.
Moored with us at Saint sylvestre – left to right– Vertrouwen, Body & Soul, Moet 1 Chandon, Lagon. All British. Excellent facilities.
Next week, we go downstream to Clairac and get stranded on a wall for lunch. Don’t miss this exciting episode of “It isn’t all plain sailing, y’know!” Part 8
Here we are at Aiguillon where we have been since 14th September. we are here waiting for the pilots to tell us that there is enough water in the Garonne to allowus to reconnect with the main canal system. If you click on this photo you will get a full size view.
Great weather and free facilities. Nice town. Could not be better.
June 02, 2008
In Dock (It isn't all plain sailing, you know - part 6)
We spend an extraordinary 20 days in a dry dock at Castelnaudary from the 30th of April to the 19thof May, sharing space and costs with “Vertrouwen”, a beautiful Dutch barge owned by our friends, George and Sue (Hoare).
Yet another page in our retirement adventure is about to be turned. There must be lots of boat people - and I suppose that is what we are - who have had this experience. But for us it is entirely new. We are excited about the coming unknown and yet another adventure – But hang on, enough of all that romantic drivel, this is not romantic, this is hard work, self doubt, anxiety and chilling reality!
For me I worry about what I will find beneath the waterline which has been seen by no-one since we had the hull re-coated once with something black, just before leaving for France three years ago. “Body and Soul” was at that time, still under warranty. Then there are the anodes – ah yes, remember the anodes? will they be completely dissolved and obsolete after several months in brackish water and two days in the salty Etang De Thau? – and how long has this fatal electrolysis been going on? We dread finding the steel hull, once a proud and substantial 10mm thick, perhaps now only paper thin…. only a matter of time and down we go in a heap of rust and confusion. Then there’s my wobbly rudder which may, for all I know, be about to fall off. How will I fix it? Will there be someone available who can if I can’t? Of course it almost goes without saying - the new replacement “Erbespacher” central heating appliance has failed us. So hot water is going to be a problem and there is no agent in Castelnaudary to attend to it.
At 9am sharp on the 30th of April both “Body and Soul” and “Vertrouwen” hover nervously around in circles in the large “Bassin” (or lake) beside the dry dock, waiting like patients in a dentist’s waiting room, for their turn to go in, but with fate in their own hands.
The Frenchman who is to let us in to the dry dock seems to me to be suspiciously unhelpful. I can see Lucie trying to squeeze information from him, standing in her usual position in the bow, about positioning our boats over the concrete plinths correctly when we get in there. There is much shrugging of indifferent shoulders. His job is only to let us in, after which we can do what we like! He is not responsible for anything that happens. Even more alarming – he is putting on a wet suit – “but this is a dry dock,” I mutter, whilst circling for the fifth and last time. We watch the man, with the aid of binoculars, slowly do what he is presumably paid for.
The entrance gate to the dry dock is a curious black metal contraption which, on the face of it, could not possibly work, but we watch, fascinated as he shows us how it does. Imagine, if you will, a fifteen foot double feeding trough for cows, with large lugs on it at either end and a metal grid across it acting as a bridge upon which people can walk from either side. Firstly, the man must fill the empty dock, so he shuts the sluice gate at the far side of the dock to stop the egress of water. He then opens two “valves” on either side of the trough to let the water in to the dry dock. The dock slowly fills up and the water level rises. The trough remains empty and rises with it, like an empty teacup when in a washing-up bowl, until it floats out of its slots in which the lugs are positioned. Our Frenchman, having had the foresight to tie a rope on to one end of the trough, and with the aid of a colleague who has mysteriously arrived in time, leads the floating gate into the dock and beckons us to enter therein. Our man in a wet suit – “what is he doing” – I ask - “why is he wading in up to his armpits, into the gap left by the absent gate?” - George shrugs his shoulders unhelpfully. Then it clicks. He is shuffling across the gap using his feet to clear any debris that might have accumulated there and which may prevent the gate from being watertight when slotted back in to position behind us.
I slowly drive “Body and Soul” into place on the right-hand side, as arranged, and soon “Vertrouwen” is beside me on my left. We are nervously jostling for position and trying to stay still at the same time, using the white markers painted on the dock sides as a guide to the whereabouts of the unseen plinths beneath us. The gate is now back where it came from and they are about to sink it into place by pulling the plug within the troughs. The troughs fill and the gate sinks into its slots which makes it relatively water-tight. Lucie is shouting hastily translated orders but we cannot hear them because of engine noise. We turn off our engines and sink slowly, quietly and carefully, like a couple of swans on a nest full of eggs. The new man sees that we are nervous, he is smiling as Lucie is explaining that these are not just holiday vessels; these two beauties are our homes – and not to be messed with. (this picture shows the dry dock refilling after we had finished with it)
We seem to have got it right although my starboard bow is wedged a little on an unseen concrete slope which conveniently crumbles under the 26 ton weight of “Body and Soul”. We both end up mercifully flat on four plinths and clear of our precious propellers and tillers.
P-hew!
Our Frenchmen seem unconcerned and disappear somewhere – oh yes it’s France and it’s midi. Time for lunch. But unperturbed, George and I leap into action as we don overalls which will become our uniforms for the next 20 days.
It is a dry dock alright but it is a very wet and muddy one. We make it worse with our pressure washers so we decide to spend an afternoon flushing and brushing the mud away into the small stream which leaks past us from the gate through a channel cut out for that purpose. This stream becomes very important to us, not just for this, but as the general conduit into which our domestic waste is piped. With great prudence and perspicacity, George has arranged for some waste pipes to be ready for this task, which we attach to the appropriate orifices on our stranded homes. Well, it’s one thing to be wading knee deep in mud but quite another to be knee deep in …. well you will have got my drift?
On “Body and Soul” there is no sign of there having been any paint whatever, there is therefore no old paint to remove but instead, once the surface crustaceans and weeds have been flushed away, there is a layer of what I can only describe as a hard calcium substance which clearly must be removed too. I decide to get it all back to the steel and then to stabilize it with an anti-rust product which the Dutch barge owners use and recommend called “Awatrol-Rustol”. George uses the same. We may yet live to regret it, but it seems to do the trick. More alarming is the uncomfortable number of rust “pock” marks on the sides of “Body and Soul”. I suspect some nasty electrolysis causes this through a lack of anodes. I later arrange for an excellent local “ferronier” to weld on four new ones which we bought in Agde as a precaution. So we now have four new and four old anodes which should be enough. I wish I had bought at least two more to be sure.
As if this isn’t enough to keep us in fear and trembling, fate plays an unkind hand. Three days after entering dry dock there is what can only be described as a truly unfair calamity. Just when we are growing in confidence about our hulls and beginning to relax into the work routine, our hot water tank springs a serious leak. There is a minor flood before we realize what is happening. The system requires that we have to turn off the whole of our waterworks and drain the offending tank and replace it with a new one. What can we do without water for however long it takes to get this new one? Once again Lucie’s wizardry on the internet finds a UK supplier who has it delivered in seven days time, including one day for yet another French bank holiday.
We have been so lucky so far to have friends around us who are, by the very nature of boating, enthusiastic, practical and helpful. No sooner has the problem arisen, George volunteers his help and advice and we try hard to apply an “isopon” coating on to the hole, which we can only feel but not actually see - to at least stop the leak, temporarily. This is smartly followed by more help from another couple, Bill and Sylvia on the barge “Biesbosch” who had shared a winter in Briare 2006/7 with us. Bill actually ditches his plans for continuing their journey towards Toulouse and spends nearly two days plumbing the new tank in for us. I am left in awe of their kindness and skill. Plumbing has never been my strongest point but my role in all this was the ticklish problem of removing the three stairs into Body and Soul in order to gain access to the tank ready for its removal and replacement. It was all quite alarming and very messy, with the added inconvenience of having to get water from a hosepipe through the kitchen window and boiling kettles for hot water - Not something one would wish to happen to anyone but because of the camaraderie and goodwill, there is much learning, laughter and good times are had by all. (see above “not so dry” dock party!)
We roll on four coats of International Paint’s “Intertuff 16” on to our hull in addition to the anti-rust solution and we also prepare and repaint the blue stripe above the waterline. Then George shows me how to restore the red livery paintwork on our upper sides using “T-Cut” followed by polish. Both “Body and Soul” and “Vertrouwen” now look wonderful and attract many admiring comments from passers–bye. It has all turned out to be a great success and we both fervently hope for a good three or perhaps four years grace before having to do it all over again.
Rising waters and we begin to float. but we arrange to stay afloat in the full dock for 24 hours to make sure that no damage has been inflicted on our hulls.
All is well and we exit the dock in triumph the next day.
A few days off would certainly be welcome!
Here following are a few more pictures of our traumas in dry dock and also,more importantly, of Charlie Blair taken byLucie on her recent visit to Wiltshire. ( She couldn't cope with the lack of hot water! Following.....please wait; ahah, here we are.......
Our friends Jo and Tim
Any of the above snaps (not those with dark edge surroundings) can be enlarged by clicking on them!
April 12, 2008
To Narbonne and Beyond (or It isn't all plain sailing, part 4 !)
Our lovely Swedish friends, Tommy and Katerina (Grunbaum) join us on board Body and Soul on the 26th March for a few days. 
Tommy - a skilled engineer and boat owner– is a genius with a voltmeter and, like a doctor with his stethoscope, he carries his voltmeter around with him wherever he goes. Our alternators, our inverter, our battery bank -even my electric toothbrush is under threat of his probes. It becomes a joke and a great source of mirth between us as we set off from Capestang on a four day trip down the Canal de Jonction which links the Canal du Midi with the Canal de la Robine, through Narbonne to the Port la Nouvelle and the Mediterranean. His tall and elegant wife Katerina, a well known Swedish linguist and journalist, with a great sense of fun, is hungry for material to complete the closing chapters of their book on cruising the waterways of Europe. She doesn’t know it yet, but some great material is about to be handed to her on a plate.
As it happens, Lucie and I have already ventured down as far as Narbonne but never any further, so there is new territory for us to explore. But there is another reason for choosing this route; Moored opposite Body and Soul is the beautiful Dutch barge, Vertrouwen, recently acquired by George and Sue (Hoare) with whom we have shared the joys of wintering in Capestang since November (07).
We have become great friends, as one does with fellow boaters. Neither George nor Sue have had any previous boating experience other than the 46 kilometers lock free canal in either direction from Capestang. Sue seems unduly nervous about handling their first lock. We all try to allay her fears but our efforts are in vain.
BothGeorge George and I are confident that all the nasty stories she has heard from other people, about their exaggerated experiences involving snapping ropes, crushed limbs and boats left hanging off unseen lock ledges, will be forgotten. We plan to give her an easy ride by attempting the descent of the six automated locks before crossing the river Aude and before the rather boring run into Narbonne. You would agree with us that it would be more sensible to gain confidence through gentle experience -it makes sense “n’est ce pas?”.
One has learned, it is much easier to descend locks than to ascend - going down a lock is easier than coming up one – if you see what I mean. It is less daunting. For a start there are no enormous gates towering above one as one enters an empty lock, nor any sense of impending calamity as the waters rush in. Then there’s that problem of tying up to a bollard high above ones head, often unseen. Whereas when one descends, one gets properly tied to the bollards and at a touch of a button, the gates close behind. The sluice opens silently in front and one gently subsides to the lower level. The lower gates automatically open and one just sails out into the sunshine again. Simple.
George is handling Vertrouwen as if it were a vintage motor car – there isn’t a scratch on her yet. We have been watching him each morning for the last five months – whilst having our breakfast on the opposite side - devotedly polishing her beautiful form and washing her decks like a man possessed. We tease him mercilessly about his obsessive behaviour but secretly envy his unblemished paint work. Our equally loved home, Body and Soul, after more than a thousand locks and three thousand kilometers of traveling has more scars on her than paint.
Lucie and I feel rather responsible, important and not a little paternal. My “admiral’s” hat is firmly on my head – I’m in charge and feeling slightly bossy – like a proud duck with only one duckling. I’m not quacking just yet but nearly. Lucie is demonstrating her hard won rope handling skills and somehow preparing lunch at the same time. I am being frightfully British and making silly jokes in the hope that nerves will be duly calmed. Sue is having none of it. Laughter is far from her lips as she struggles to lasso the bollards with wet and heavy ropes. Her knuckles are as white as her face is grim. George, who is trying his best not to shout at her, runs up and down the deck and, like a Jack-in-a-box, goes in and out of his wheelhouse. Vertrouwen’s bow thrusters dangerously "whurrr" as we jostle for position along side each other in the locks. 
All seems to be going reasonably well though. Our fenders are well placed. The locks on the Midi and the Robine are peculiarly oval in shape. This design gives the lock walls greater strength but it is not helpful to boaters of our size who cannot tie up close to the bollards. I shout “Mind the gap!” helpfully, I thought, – you know, like the automated voice at the Bank tube station in London - but quickly wish I hadn’t. We detect a flicker of growing confidence in Sue and I should not belittle her achievement. We have now completed five locks without problem -albeit slowly perhaps. Encouragement would be more appropriate.
Whilst all this frenetic activity is taking place, we become aware of some young German children on bikes, obviously from a hire boat behind us (we call them bumper boats!). They are the children of, we later discover, a very impatient father who, typically, I have to say, wishes to overtake us and be ahead. These children, no more than ten years of age, are sent ahead on their bikes in order to push the lock start button, as soon as possible. By the sixth lock they have become seriously good at their job. Too good.
The sixth lock, called Salléles–d’Aude for some reason, at 5.4 meters is twice the depth of the five previous locks. There are no bollards to tie up to - I’d quite forgotten – instead there are four vertical metal rods around which one is supposed to loop ones rope and slide down as the level of water drops. Quite sensible really. But it is another first for the hapless Sue who clearly expects another session with her lasso. This lock is taking longer than normal. The German children are now impatiently waiting to press their button. 
In due course we safely slide down as we should and the lower lock gates obligingly open to let us out. As pack leader I proudly steer Body and Soul out first, into the sunlight. Then, oh horror, it happened and I see it as I glance through my rear view mirror. Just as Sue, given the wheel of Vertrouwen for the first time, is easing her through the massive lock gates, the German children strike. Which button or buttons they press will remain a mystery but the effect is swift and devastating. Her bows are half way through the lock gates when they start to close. We watch helpless and not a hundred yards away. Vertrouwen seems trapped and in danger of being crushed or swallowed whole like a minnow in the jaws of a predatory pike. I dispatch Tommy ashore and, casting aside his voltmeter, he runs like a gazelle to the rescue. Meanwhile, Sue with great presence of mind, slams her controls into reverse-too late to avoid collision damage but quick enough to avoid disaster – too late to avoid the normal cycle of the automatic lock. Its gates, now closed, starts to refill.
As already mentioned, going up in a lock is much more dramatic than going down. Just imagine going up in a lock for the first time, having no ropes and facing the wrong way. This is not going to inspire confidence in anyone, let alone a nervous novice. 
Unable to do anything other than cling to each other for comfort one can only imagine what is going on in their minds as George and Sue in Vertrouwen begin to swivel like a dead leaf down a drain. But the gallant Tommy raises the alarm and from no-where on this supposedly automated system, springs a lock keeper (an eclusier) who is quick to grasp the seriousness of the situation. The rapidly rising waters are mercifully slowed but, Vertrouwen never-the-less rises to the top like a cork, only to suffer further the indignity of sharing this lock with the impatient German. His children are already riding over the horizon to do more harm at the next one. So George and Sue go down with the enemy and emerge blinking and with just a few scratches. Shaken and stirred you might say – but otherwise unharmed. Katerina’s pen is already to be heard scratching as she sits in the sun on a deck-chair in our bow. “It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good” – that’s what they say.
But this melodrama is not yet over. The impatient German, in his plastic bumper boat -so far blissfully unaware that his impatience is the very cause of his delay – tries dangerously to overtake both our boats in an attempt to get into the next lock (the 7th.) before us and to shut the gates before we arrive. He fails on both counts. This lock is not automatic and is manned by the same éclusier as at the 6th (now our friend!) who appears to be fully aware of what is going on. He summarily holds the enraged German back. So we descend the lock without him and George hears him snigger “Zo, ze Britannia rules ze vaves, yah?”. At least he got something right. Auf wiedersehen.
Continue reading "To Narbonne and Beyond (or It isn't all plain sailing, part 4 !)" »
March 18, 2008
Our Visit to Venice - (It isn't all plain sailing, you know (part 3)
Here we are in Venice, belatedly celebrating Lucie’s 60th birthday as promised. It rained on the first day but it didn't seem to matter at all. This is a truly magical place. Even if one is unencumbered by a classical education, it is never too late to be impressed by the odd Canaletto, Whistler or Ruskin in the books, even if you can’t afford to see a real one in the Guggenheim museum. We wallowed for three days in the atmosphere, the history, the architecture and the Venetian way of life. The markets, the food, the coffee and the wine and, being serious canal boat owners ourselves - with all this water about the place - immediately make plans to bring Body and Soul over for a year of Venetian indulgence. Dream on, they say, so we do.
Here I am, your tour leader, leading you through the junk and piles of stuff, through real Venice which has this strange mixture of glory and decay. Somehow, despite the huge number of tourists that are flown in by their thousands on cheap flights every hour of every day –it works and, somehow, without actually joining in, we become two of them.
Lucie, with her usual foresight and planning has found a really dreamy place to stay – booked ages ago on the internet.
This B & B had just five rooms to let and is rather unusually modern in decor with a curious mix of fittings, both classical and modern. The owner of the business is an opera singer and horse lover with apparently a large house in the country. He flits in and out again to say hi. A shared sitting/breakfast room with decorated stone floor has a boudoir Yamaha grand piano in it, mercifully in tune, and I have fun tinkling away rediscovering what it is like to play some jazz on a really good instrument again. The piano, though, is “just a tad” surprised, one feels, but seems to respond well.
Our suite (the window on the right of the picture, first floor) looks on to a small canal on one side and a small entrance courtyard on the other. We have a large bathroom, tiled floor to picture rail in blue and an entrance lobby with sofa and coffee table. The bedroom is large with four windows like this one (above), the “wardrobe and clothes drawers” are from Ikea and therefore effective – you know, the sort with several shelves, on wheels and covered with a fitted muslin type of cloth - a stange choice but useful.
In the mornings, we indulge in the sounds of Venice coming through our window, amplified by the closeness of similar buildings across the canal. The dogs barking, the herring gulls, (ah yes we are by the sea!) the church bells, the water traffic hooting around the bends, loud Italian voices, whistling workmen and women chatting. We watch the working barges delivering their useful loads, then there’s a gondola or a water taxi. We love the absence of the motor car. This is not a film set, it is quite suddenly very real. The air is clean and refreshing. We go at once to explore the sights which we saw by night from the water bus (Vaperetto) which took us to our rooms after dusk. The lights and first sight of Venice which we saw on this trip will never be forgotten - the photos we took of them, I’m afraid, will be, but here goes anyway…
much more to come
This is another view from our window.
February 11, 2008
Some technical horrors - (It isn't all plain sailing, you know! (part 2))
I suppose it’s because our home or barge or “houseboat”, (call it what you will ) is entirely surrounded by water and, being afloat, is subject to random movement according to whatever our mood – meaning trips here, collisions there, through locks and other perils -or through whatever weather prevails – come rain or shine – the problems one associates with a normal house in terms of maintenance, are different. Somehow, on a boat they seem exaggerated.
But, as I try to reassure myself, just as houses have dry rot, boats suffer the dreaded corrosion… and then there isn’t the garden to worry about.
We are surrounded by “fresh” water which is indeed problematic but we can be thankful at least not to be surrounded by salt water which is ten times worse.
Anodes, or to give them their more exact technical term,”sacrificial anodes” are blobs of metal welded to the hulls of all boats like ours to protect them from corrosion. Let me explain….to the uninitiated of course…
They are made of a variety of metals, including zinc, magnesium and aluminium and are used appropriately according to what electrolyte (surrounding fluid) prevails. Their function is, as their name implies, to selflessly sacrifice themselves – by gradually “dissolving” or in fact releasing ions into the water (the electrolyte, or in this case, the canal water) and at the same time, produce electrons (the opposite charged particle) which the cathode (in this case our steel hull), receives through their metallic connection. The result, apparently, is that the steel hull becomes negatively polarised and hence protected against corrosion. (Please don’t ask me why!)
To calculate the rate at which this corrosion occurs (I quote) “one has to understand the electro chemical kinetics associated with a complex series of reactions that can happen simultaneously on these metals”.
Yes well…. I haven’t got time at the moment…
Anyway the point of all this is that Body and Soul has four of these carbuncular looking guardian angels welded to her steel hull (two forward and two aft). They are, according to our ships survey records, made of magnesium which as I understand it, is the best idea for fresh water.
Since I personally failed physics “A” level more than twice, you will be relieved to read, I will not be giving you, dear reader, your first insite into electro chemical kinetics. Be that as it may and suffice it to say, these little magnesium chaps may have shrunk and be a lot smaller than they should be, after three years of electrical activity on board Body and Soul.
In practical terms, if I could actually see through the murky waters that surround us on the Canal Du Midi, I might then, at least, be able to make a serious judgment as to their efficacy, but I can’t, and although tempted to don my diving goggles and wallow in near zero temperatures in order to assuage the need, we have, instead booked eighteen days in the dry dock at Castelnaudary from May 2nd where we will sort it all out. Others, less fortunate, will be off to Marbella for a break!
There, in our dry dock, we will not only do something about it, like change these precious anodes with new ones, and repaint our hull, but more importantly, we may calm our admitted neurosis and the recurring nightmares that we have about sinking in a sludge of rust and corrosion.QED.
The photos above are purely incidental but all to do with the good life we lead to date.
Continue reading "Some technical horrors - (It isn't all plain sailing, you know! (part 2))" »
December 25, 2007
Summary in cartoons by Bro Robert
When we were living on the Great River Ouse at the Pike and Eel before leaving for France and on one of our exploits to St. Ives, we discovered a rare bird called a purple Gallinule – which we saw several times afterwards on the same spot in the reeds. 
It is in fact a rare and probably an escapee version of the moor-hen. I think, from my own rather vague recollection, an American Purple Gallinule. Porphyrula martinica according to my book on birds. We took several people to see it including Rob…
Just prior to leaving UK for France we stayed a night at St. Margarets Bay with Rob, who saw us off in our 2CV van, complete with everything that wasn’t already on the barge. We did have a lot of Earl Soham Beers to take with us and hence….. the boxes of beer certainly helped solve the slight ballast imbalance we had on the starboard side but…. not for long
Early on in our adventure to France, we were temporary hosts to two dogs in addition to our own and this was the cause of much hilarity... hence this from Rob.
Then our computer decided that it didn't need a motherboard and we were suddenly without normal communications....
December 20, 2007
Some Christmas cheer from France - Capestang
I’m not at all sure about this “round robin” business – it does get bad press, so this is more a sort of a “square chaffinch” really, with lots of photos to look at, if you see what I mean.
To all our friends and rellies visiting us this year - there have been so many - and to all our new found friends on this delightfully "Long Village", both Lucie and I send our love and best wishes for a happy Christmas and new year.
For those interested in what we and our families are up to, there will be a number of photos and commentary so just click here when it says so - OK, but give me time...to get it done.
Just Some of The Good things….
Lucie and I are very well and having a marvelous retirement on “Body and Soul”. ……. so far, with lots of adventures to relate. The two dogs, Spud and Teddy have taken to the life with enthusiasm but, better than this…..the year 2007 has brought new life on Earth in the form of Charlie Blair, Lucie’s Granddaughter and first born to her daughter Sophie (who is married to Stephen Blair).
Of course, she is very beautiful as you can see. She engenders many superlatives and survived a particularly nasty operation within minutes of her birth. Happily she is now strong and full of life. Sophie and Steve had a very worrying time and came through it with flying colours. Her new Granny nearly didn’t but here comes Charlie anyway….
Clive and Aileen (Neé McCrystal) Walker
Clive and Aileen, the “not so newly-weds” came to stay on Body and Soul in September for nearly a week. They live and work near Austin, Texas and joined us in the Camargue - hence the pink flamingoes. 
We then crossed the exciting Etang DeThau, an inland sea linking the Camargue with the Canal Du Midi. We took about 8 hours to cross it which we did over 2 days with a wonderful nights rest at Méze and a fab fish dinner in a bar. They left us for the UK from Agde to see the folks back home – and especially for Aileen’s father’s 70th birthday. This was a complete surprise, to Willie, apparently.
It is true, the flamingoes are actually pink. This is due to the algae that they feed upon which is prevalent in the salty waters of the Camargue.
A view of the oyster beds on the Etang de Thau (right) and the lovely Aileen steers the ship under supervision! Huh.
We are disappointed with the first part of the Canal Du Midi which is rather run down. We find that there are a number of wrecked, abandoned and sinking boats on either side of the Canal. Clearly there is a lack of waterway managment here but in its way, its delapidation is all the more stark in contrast with what we find up stream soon after.
More to come soon.....
November 20, 2007
What do we do all day?
“What do you (we) do all day”, I was amazed to have been asked this by a friend who is also retired in France but has a house and large garden, swimming pool and several neighbours. I can’t really remember how I replied exactly – I was so taken aback by the question – but as anyone living on a boat could have explained, our lives are stuffed so full of variety and interest, I’m afraid a couple of hanging baskets and the odd flower pot is about all we have time for. As for our neighbours, they change as often as either we or they move our respective vessels and we find ourselves entertaining new friends – of all nationalities – several times a week.
In fact it is quite scary how quickly the time goes by. It was surely only a few weeks ago, that we were commenting on the Christmas decorations in Briare, where we wintered last year! Now, in Capestang, they have them up already, to switch on on the first day in December.
By April ‘08 we will have been in France for three years and we will be setting off Westwards again towards our original destination – the river Lot, Castelmoron, Villeneuve-sur-Lot, Figeac, Cahors etc. If this area is as nice as we think it is, we will probably base ourselves and settle there. Toulouse city and airport are quite close by as is the TGV (now currently on strike!).
Me thinks a quick statistical review of our travels so far is in order, to remove any ideas about us being bored or missing the garden! This is for my benefit particularly, because I honestly wonder how the time has flown, since arriving in France, April 2005. Both of us are now pensioners, so perhaps this time loss is something to do with old age? I prefer the adage, “time flies when you’re having fun”…
Left England 24th April 2005. 26th April Relaunched Body and Soul at Laroche Migennes. The lock shown here was our first in France. The river Yonne is on the right, the lock is on the left and we are about to descend. It beats shooting the barrarge! (behind us on the right)
I have spent most of today retracing our travels since we arrived in France and find that we have covered 3100Kms of navigable waterways and been through 937 locks. This is probably at an average speed of less than 3 kms per hour (including the time taken in locks) That’s quite a lot of diesel, I might add, and around 4000 photographs. 
The above is Capestang Port De Plaisance where we will spend the winter until April 1st 2008.
November 19, 2007
Sundry news and photos from Body and Soul and the Canal Du Midi
Here we have reached Castelnaudary, spent two nights there and are refueling before turning back to Capestang for our unplanned winter mooring.
We find the dry dock which may prove useful when we return this way next year. The system works simply enough apparently. You book the time and date in advance by phone. You pay your fee/deposit and the nice man comes to fill up the dry dock and let you in. You enter the lock and tie up in the exact spot over the concrete plinths which will support the barge once the dry dock is emptied. Then the nice man opens the sluice gate at the opposite end and lets all the water out - slowly we hope - and Body and Soul gently sinks on to the plinths beneath her. We then spend the next few days scraping, priming, undercoating, and topcoating our beloved barge whilst living aboard her. Simple, and we will let you know what really happens next May!
November 16, 2007
Re-connecting and catching up after the loss of our "Motherboard"
I have just re-read my last blogging effort dated way-back-when our previous lap-top was working fine. There is so much to catch up on.In truth we were only just beginning to get used to the huge benefits it brought us and were steadily learning more about "Skype" and having a great deal of time-consuming fun using it, when - zap! One day we switch on and nothing, but absolutely nothing, happens on screen at all. A lot of time passes between this sort of schism and finding the fault, then the solution and then deciding how best to restore what had become so important to us. We had to miss "the Archers" too, on digital radio 4! Could it ever get worse?
Sophie lent us her ten year old lap-top (bless her) but this had limitations for what we can now expect to do to-day, but we were able to save our photos.To the possible relief of you all, that is, our avid readers, blogging can now continue. Yes, despite a French keyboard and a French Internet service Provider - we are back in the blogging business. Here is a rough guide to our journey from Briare to where we are now, with some good pictures to go with.
Castelnaudary is where we have booked a session in the dry dock in May 2008. Hopefully we will be sharing this expense with our new found friends at Capestang, who also need their Bottom scraped! More about George and Sue later!
This is me, having a terrible time with some undrinkable French beer! - somewhere between locks.
I am losing weight and we both f
eel very healthy!
Carcasone Port De Plaisance which we visited not long after deciding to buy Body and Soul in 2004. This time we took the town by barge and canal, having flown in last time by Easyjet! It was a weird feeling.
