Tillers and Tastebuds

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,  (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.

    

  1 L to R 1.Our view towards Bordeaux, 2. some of our neighbours, 3."Mirabelle" a hotel boat.

Just click on any of these to enlarge

One incident worth reporting happens 

whilst Lucie is away in England seeing her new grandson Max. 

     

  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

Our Port Capitaine, Mike, is pretty shrewed with the supply of water to us during this cold spell. By keeping a strict eye  on the weather forecast through the internet he  warns us all to fill up our tanks before the hose pipes freeze. He turns off the mains water supply at the first sign of frost but turns them on again at the first warmer  opportunity. It has been close but so far we avoid trouble by keeping our tank topped up. We plan to install a series of filters and a water pump to enable us to use the canal water for everything other than drinking water.  Wild mooring then becomes much less dependent on access to water from port facilities.

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.

Seasonal cheer to one and all

Lucie and I wish all our relatives and friends, best wishes for
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!

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

1. Our mooring fee is reasonable and much less than last year at Castelsarrasin or indeed the year before at Capestang.
2. We also have permanent WiFi connection which gives us non stop BBC radio 4, thus reducing considerably the cost of our previous “Orange” facility.
3. This also means that our “Skype” facility works much better and  greatly reduces,  the cost of the telephone. 
4. 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.
5. 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.  
6. 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……..
7. 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     - introducing Max, born on 26th November weighing a mere 8lbs 14 oz. All participants highly delighted and well. What can I say!

 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?!

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: [email protected]

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.

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

"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.

  

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.

 

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.

 

 

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!

www.domainechater.com

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!

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 9^th 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 28^th 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!

 

 

 

 

 

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. 

 

 

 

 

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.

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 [email protected]

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.

 

  

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!

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!

Fresh grilled herrings and homemade chips

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.  

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? 

 

 

 

To avid readers - A Little help if you are going to look at the Photos

The difficulty

Some readers have experienced difficulty in returning to this page from the photo albums in the left hand column. Like everything to do with computers, it's easy when you know how!

Here's how

When you click on any of the thumbnail pictures in the left column, "voila!" you will find a whole series of thumbnail photos (albums) relating to the events recorded in that particular occasion. Each thumbnail can then be enlarged by clicking on them in turn to get a decent sized picture to view.

To return to this page however, ie the one you are now reading, you will see that there is a strip of white text on grey background located just above the pictures-Like the following but white text on a grey backgound

Tillersandtastebuds.typepad.com>"albumsname" 

Click on the first bit of this and "Voila encore" you're back to the text from whence you came or use the "back" arrow in the top left hand corner of your screen.

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 !

 

 

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!

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 25^th 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 15^{th 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    ,  brought to us by courtesy of Ryan Air Gatwick – Toulouse and a jointly hired car. Much  is made of the house pool and terrace where we launch into a great lunch with a startling amount of bubbly and Lovely food from Nicola and Lucie too. Here we meet Chris and Scioban Nunn who  found the house for hire, quite near to them. I do my best to accompany Rob’s family who have  created a ditty about the "old lad". Judy, Lucie and I do our best with a silly monologue about his life so far, need I say more? We all might well  rehearse just a little more but there's no chance of that. It's the best of fun anyway.

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!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"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 2^nd 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 8^th 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 1^st 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 9^th 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.

 

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 19^thof 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!

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 26^th 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 7^th.) 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 6^th (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.                                               

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.

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 2^nd 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.

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....

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.....

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 24^th April 2005. 26^th 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 1^st 2008.

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!

 

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 feel 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.

Latest from Capestang and Body and Soul

Here are two views from the stern of Body and Soul. They show the bridge across the Canal du Midi at Capestang, clearly taken in late autumn, with most of the plane tree leaves off the trees after a windy and cold day. Our plan is to stay here until April 1st.(08!). Then we will be traveling up the canal towards Toulouse and - the place, now closed, where we had booked for this winter.

So, although we did not intend to be at Capestang, we seem to have fallen on our feet again because it really has some great advantages. Apart from the obvious essentials, (ie the town itself has great atmosphere and facilities which include supermarkets, hairdresser, DIY shop and oodles of food shops, not to mention two chemists, a tourist office, dentist, doctor and so on....) but its location on the canal is not bound by Locks (écluses) which are shut from November. This means we can take 30km trips either way before reaching any locks during the winter. We have already made two trips, downstream towards Bezier which, apart from being in glorious sunshine, enabled us to collect lots of wood for the central heating. What a success our Jotul (nicknamed Joey!) has been!

There is a great crowd of boaters here already and we have made many new friends - So many new contacts and a lot of very helpful ones too. Me and another guy called Geof who plays the clarinet, did our first gig together on Eddie's boat for Halloween. Geof is ex-guards musician and plays very well by ear. His favourite music is Stacey Kent, Billie Holiday, type stuff! We are trying to find a string bassist.

Eddie Bunker on his cruiser "Vee Brooks" is an amazing engineering talent, Irish from Dublin and one of the best. The Capitainerie is run by a British Company called "France Afloat" and there is much help from them. On the negative side we are having to pay a mooring fee in excess of what we would have liked. It gives us water, security and an address for "snail mail", but we have to provide our own electricity.

Our address therefore, please note, is: Body and Soul, La Capitainerie, Halte Nautique, Quai Elie Amouroux, Capestang, 34310 France.

 Here is a picture facing downstream towards Columbier and Bezier.

Now we have invested in a new Honda generator to make us independent of very expensive shore line charges. It is petrol driven and very quiet. So far so good. Both Lucie and I are seriously considering the purchase of a water filtration plant but have only seen one type so far which is quite expensive and difficult to install. But this would make us totally independent of moorings and their charges. More advice needed.

This is John and Irene who we tied up to for a night at Carcassone. Their widebeam is the only other widebeam, similar to ours but a meter shorter, that we have come across. We had many stories to swap with this delightful couple. Hopefully in this "Long Village" we will meet again. They told us of their near tragic end on the étang De Thau - the inland sea which we ourselves had to crossed in order to get to the Canal Du midi. The weather turned nasty on them and they had to beach their barge "Moet Chandon" and get towed off by the lifeboat. It cost them lots. Poor dears! There, but for the grace of ....etc etc. We had an easy ride, it seems. That was with Clive and Aileen on board in September.

Getting up Steam Before the Off

Our second Wintering has been a great success. We’ve had a very interesting and pleasant five months getting to know Briare and enjoying our surroundings since the first of November. The weather has been pretty dull and cold throughout and that was something of a surprise to me. Frankly, it was colder and more damp than the River Ouse in the UK. Thanks to our Jotul wood burner and an inexhaustable supply of free drift-wood, we have been kept warm and dry. Today is different. The sun is shining and the sky is blue, the forcythia is blooming and the willow trees are in spring mode. We are excited about our next adventure to the Southwest of France which starts on the first day in April after a farewell party at Beaurin with Lucie’s family. We start with the lock in the town centre. 

Crossing my favourite river Loire on the Briare Aqueduct for the last time on Monday we will slowly make our way down the Canal Lateral a La Loire to Decise, then onwards along the Canal Du Centre through Digoin. Then, depending on how we feel, we may take a small diversion in order to go back to Verdun Sur Doubs. We haven’t yet been up the Doubs. We did love Verdun last year. The idea is to hit the Rhone during the summer when there will be less of a current and to arrive on the Canal Du Midi during early Autumn when there will be less tourist boats getting in our way! Does that sound awful? This will also mean that we will have the luxury of  time to visit and explore new places more thoroughly. We have plans to go up the river Seille as far as it will allow.

In the last five months we have got to know so many people who are now added to our ever growing list of good friends. Especially worth mentioning here, are four couples – Keith and Jenny on Gulliver, Mike and Rosaleen on Aquarelle from Ireland, Dominique and Nicolas on Elmajo (French) and Pat and Gerard, who live near Gien. They will, hopefully,  be joining us for a short cruise on our way South. 

Another great difference made to our lives is the ability to reach other friends and family so easily through the internet and through Skype. It is a fantastic facility to have, enabling us to be as close or even closer than we might have otherwise been had we been living in the UK.

My blogging skills are improving daily which is such fun. I hope soon to add audio to the blog so watch out for the commentary to go with the pictures – or even some music – Yeah! We are still awaiting the fixing of our “bimini” – which will give us much needed shade over our cruiser stern for our trip to the South and much better than the collapsable umbrellas we have had to date.  The unexpected gusts of wind on the river Soane and Rhone can play havoc with them!

•  One of the many full english breakfeasts enjoyed on our stern during the wonderful and diverse overnight stops along our 2000kms of cruising.

We have many friends and family hoping to join us along the way this year.  The access to flights and fast trains is bigger and more varied towards the South.

Keep looking on our blog for detailed information of our whereabouts and the rail or air connections available.

Lucie will be hopping back to the Uk end of May beginning of June to see her new grandaughter and to attend her oldest friend’s (Nini’s) wedding in Witlshire. Fingers crossed for it to all go through, but Nini has just bought a run down house not far from the Canal du Midi as a project which means we will be seeing more of her hopefully. More good news! 

•  Here we are in front of Aquarelle from Ireland. We look after each other’s boats when we go away.

Lucie and I went to the UK to see our various offspring in March this year. The Winnebago (Boo Boo) is now in Alan’s hands – we hope he will have better luck in selling it for us. Our agent failed to get a sale over 9 months. Not a good deal.

Tim and Jo Parker Visit 7th to 10th Feb

Just a fleeting visit and more fun with Tim and Jo. Here are some pictures. We spent most  of the time walking, eating, talking and drinking, it seems. Whatever else is there?

Tim, trying to wreck my pooter.

      

                                                                               The Loire, my favourite walk with les chiens.

It's a Girl!

Well done Sophie and Steve. Lucie has her grandaughter, born today the 19th Feb by c/section at around midday. What a relief to us all. Sophie and baby "Bumpy" (real name not known yet) and Steve is Ok too. More news as it comes in but it's looking good.

It is now the 25th of February and I have many photographs of Charlie, the name with which she is blessed. She has been through a lot already in her short life. She came out of the womb shouting and very strong and pink. She was whisked into the operating theatre to have an incision made into her abdomen into which certain bits of her gut and liver were to be inserted. It was a fairly lengthy procedure which had been anticipated, thanks to modern scanning techniques. There were some very anxious moments for Sophie and Steve.

Charlie, happily, has come through the operation with flying colours and to the amazement of the medical staff. She spat out her breathing tube in order to breathe by herslelf. She is now putting on loads of weight and taking her mother's milk by the gallon. She is beautiful, according to everyone and certainly seems that way from the photographs.

Sophie is fine and taking it all in her stride, (as is proud Dad and Granny!) and she has already been turfed out of hospital which she visits three times a day as the official cow. Charlie is not to be allowed out for a few weeks yet until everything is safe so to do:

 

The Story of Puck, Spud and Teddy.

I met Puck, Lucie's Jack Russell, at the same time as I met Lucie and her daughter Sophie. He and I appeared to bond with each other immediately. I was flattered and surprised that, as pack leader, he appeared to welcome the arrival of another male on his patch. I was not to know then, quite how much effect he was to have on us for the next eight years of his life.

Sadly, but inevitably, at the good age of fifteen, he was to die in our arms after a year long battle with cancer. Even then, awash with our shameless tears, Puck had the last word and as the deadly needle went into his front paw he took his last lunge at the kind vet who was trying to relieve his suffering. Puck died mercifully, seconds later. We buried him, wrapped in his favourite shawl, under the old apple tree at our house in Charsfield, Suffolk.

Maybe, somewhere out there, perhaps in cyber-space (who knows?) Puck still lives, as does his memory with those who knew him. Happily, his story goes on because, at the age of thirteen, by lucky chance, we met a possible mate for him, a Yorkshire lass of the same breed and he managed to sire a litter of four some months later. This is just part of his story related below in greater detail.

We had the choice of the litter. We chose his first born and named him "Spud" and sometimes I call him "Buddy". He now lives with us on our barge "Body and Soul" and although quite different in character and looks, is a constant reminder of his father with whom he lived for the first two years of his life.  At the time of writing he is seven years old. (ed. April 2007)

So wherever you are Puck and I am sure you will have all the gear - including broadband - you will be able to visit this blog on www.tillersandtastebuds.typepad.com and see photos about our lives both now and in the past. It is the only sure way to keep in touch and to show others how much you meant to us and the joy you brought.

The Arrival of Theodore (Teddy for short)

So Spud was alone for the first time in his life. He watched as we buried Puck's stiff carcass under the gnarled old tree in Charsfield and when that evening I realized he was missing, I found him sitting, quietly still, with his back to the front wall of the house, facing Puck's grave and about ten feet from it. He stayed there like that for what seemed like ten minutes until I picked him up and took him inside. We were not the only ones who were sad.

Already a secret plot was being hatched by Sophie and Steven in London, to replace Puck with another playmate for Spud. The idea was to get one for Lucie's birthday on the 24th June. I was part of this plot and was required to ensure that Lucie was where she should be for the gift to be given.

The day came and Sophie and Steven duly arrived. Sophie got out of her car with the large leather handbag which she had promised her mother. We all went indoors for drinks. 

"You'd better open this now, Mum" Sophie said, and to the delight of all watching - a couple of neighbours had joined in - out popped Theodore (Teddy, for short) from the bag, blinking in the sudden light. Then eight weeks old, Teddy is a pedigree Norwich Terrier with golden/brown, long, but quite soft coat and pricked up ears. He is squat and square and not at all athletic. He has very expressive brown eyes with an unusual ability to show the white bits which give him some great facial expressions. He was destined to grow to around 6-8 kgs and therefore a similar size to Spud.

He showed immediate interest in Spud and used his outsized front paw to bat his new step brother's nose. Spud, although taken aback by this apparent impertinence soon became sanguine and more friendly. The two soon became inseparable as Spud experienced leadership for the first time. We read up all the Kennel Club details, advice and pedigree papers. Teddy was sired by Baron Biscuit, a Cruft's breed winner. He was indeed a very expensive and generous present. We immediately named him "Teddy" simply because he looked exactly like the one you imagine in a toy shop window. They were to sleep together on our bed that first night.

A small party followed after his arrival when we toasted Teddy and poor Puck and I remember playing the "birthday" song on the piano very slowly - that was the melody which always started Puck singing, only this time there were many tears shed including my own. (see above photo of him doing this in earlier times) I think that moment was the most poignant moment ever to be imagined and one for which I was not prepared.

Teddy now loves the barge life too and is a great sailor.

About Coypus - It's Official

Here you see three babies and one adult Coypu nested behind the funny old paddle boat, in front of the paddle wheel. If you click on these pictures you get the full size to look at. Spud is very keen to attack them but can't get to them unless he swims out.

Coypu

Myocastor Coypus

Just some similar pictures

       

The French for Coypu is "Ragondin" and it is described in my small book on "Mammals of Britain and Europe"  by Van Den Brink as a large, plump, amphibious rodent with cylinrical tail. It has a body length of 42-60 cms; tail length of 30-45cm; Hind foot 12-14cms; weight  6-9 kg (so it's about the same size as Puck or Teddy)(and they don't eat dogs, Alan!) They also have webbed feet. They live in the holes that they create in high sided river banks, along fast flowing rivers and streams. They can also live beside salt water.

They originally came from South America. They are generally tolerated and do little harm. They make a grunting sound and sometimes a sort of bleating. They are similar to the beaver but smaller and have a round tale as opposed to the beaver's flat tail. I imagine that they are common both in Malvern and on the Tees.

It's Bloody Cold Out Here!

Sorry but you can download this file by clicking here - it is clean I can assure you!

Download winter_in_briare_3.doc

It ain't all plain sailing you know!

Just after all that joyous celebration you may think we deserved it. "It" being something resembling flu.. From whence it came, I have my suspicions, but we caught it soon after Sophie, who developed similar symptoms whilst with us, and Stephen left for gay Paris. Whatever it was, there appears to be a lot of it around and it has laid us up with the  fever and a lot more for the last three days. Never mind, it is a salient reminder of how things go wrong. We have recovered enough to write this blog with the help of "Neofren", "Paracetamol", "Lemsip" and, of course, the odd hot toddy.

It reminded me too of the letter I recently wrote, tongue in cheek, to a couple of our "sailor" friends:

Tillers and Tastebuds

 

Mes  Amis,  - bonjour matelot!

 

The real truth is - after all - that one's wife, being half French, is biased and unable to cope with the darker realities life on board. In her daily journal which she has kept up to date admirably, she eulogizes about these “Frenchies” and their way of life - the food, the wine, the weather, the space and sheer natural beauty of the place - and readers could be forgiven for acquiring a falsely idyllic impression about life in retirement on these dirty old waterways. But still, it has to be said, one is glad she came along too since she speaks French fluently, “et vraiment, sans accent” - that is, one has to admit, very useful.

Anyway, before saying “right, that’s it” and being tempted to do likewise - that is - to retire on a barge in France, one  feels obliged to reveal some of the more colourful side, so that others can avoid making the mistakes made by those who have gone before - who may or may not have less “Savoir faire?”

However carefully one plans things however - what with all the paraphernalia taken on board before departing for France, like decent beer, Marmite, marmalade, Grapenuts and so on - how easy it is to leave out the really important though perhaps less obvious ones. There are two items worth mentioning in particular which have turned out to be invaluable to our very existence on board.

The first of these - a large magnet for the retrieval of things dropped overboard – was a gift from visiting friends.  The second, a pair of good binoculars, intended for viewing the abundant bird life and bought at great expense for this purpose. Actually these have proved to be more useful for checking whether or not the lock gates ahead are open or closed when approaching at speed – this is most important when steering a twenty six ton barge with no brakes, I can tell you. More about that later….

Now the purpose of the first -  this great big magnet with a long  piece of string - will be immediately obvious to experienced sailors and it can be bought at any decent chandlery in England or France (which has very few). It retrieves almost anything that happens to drop overboard. It is of such impressive strength, so very powerfully strong, that it took my wife and a chisel to prize it off the refrigerator door.

 

When losing such things as that favorite screwdriver, a bag of ball bearings, a bucket or even a bicycle, it is invaluable - at once, one reaches for the magnet and string, one dangles it over the side and up it comes.

But when precious new binoculars, believed to be - but clearly not - carefully strapped and safely around the neck, fall in to the foaming Yonne, ones magnet is of disappointing value. To save others hours of river dragging, one can now advise them that, although there is plenty of other ferrous junk in these waterways, there is absolutely nothing that is attracted to a magnet in a pair of binoculars.

Being wise after the event, one might suggest that to attach a metal key tab to such non-ferrous valuables, may help in their, albeit soggy, retrieval. Ones wallet is another example particularly if kept in the back pocket of trousers…then there’s ones spectacles kept in the shirt pocket, and so on, ….enough said.

Anyway the truth is that the binoculars now lie useless, except perhaps to some myopic cat fish, on the river bed (had to buy another pair) and the essential magnet is stuck firmly to one’s bottom (forgive me – our steel hull), well below the water line, where it will no doubt remain until one has it scraped in three years time.

We continue our wonderful journey!   

 

 

         Further Titles To Come:

1. We venture into France by 2 CV Van in search of our “Body and Soul” 
2. How important it is to know what ones boat is for, before buying one.
3. “Don’t they know about the delights of Marmite on baguettes?”
4. “Deux chiens, mais oui, trois chien, non!… mais quatre chiens, c’est impossible! - et dans un bateau de canal - ooh la la……!”
5. “The internet or not the internet could be the question”

The Mancinis Visit for Lunch

We had a lunchtime visit from Marco and Carmen, now the best of friends, from Italy - also living aboard their boat. We met them firstly at "Chitry Les Mines " and then several times afterwards on our travels. He is Saun Connery's double, complete with the 007 moustache. She is, of course, much better looking! They have motored up to Briare from Decize with their two dogs to have lunch with us. What a laugh we had, with our broken English/French/and Italian languages. We always do when with them. They brought us a delicious Panatoni and a Pandoro, the latter of which I had not heard nor yet tasted. Lucie did one of her kitchen sink soups and some baguette and we drank some Biere De Garde, Jenlain (Blonde) bottled in a Champage type bottle ABV (7.5%!) which they brought us too.

www.duyck.com

Now I know I have had words about French Beer, but this one was nice.

After lunch I took Marco and Carmen with our four dogs for a walk around the sights of Briare and the Loire.

Behind this bridge you can see where we find most of our free fire wood, just lying there for the asking. We call the bridge the "Monet Bridge" for obvious reasons, but there are several dotted about the place very similar to this one. It crosses the old canal, now disused, which used to enter the Loire downstream of Briare going westwards.

I nearly forgot the bottle of Saint-Helme from Bergerac 2005 which Marco and Carmen also kindly brought as a gift. Will try that later no doubt, but we are a little partial to Bergerac wines! This is the view of "Body and Soul" from "SS Gulliver" our friend's barge, Keith and Jenny, from just across the water.

A Year-End Photo Bonanza

Taken by Stephen on the 31st December.

Me, Sophie and Lucie with the Loire in the background, just 500 yards from our mooring in Briare.

We're on the way to a bar by Le Pont Canal for a snifter before lunch, always puts a grin on my face!

Sophie, the seven month old bump and Stephen on the same day taken by Lucie with the famous Pont Canal stretching out towards the South behind them.

This aquaduct was designed by Eiffel and built 1890/94, to enable waterbourne traffic to cross the west flowing Loire, on its way to the South.

Below, Sophie and I, comparing notes. ?..taken byLucie and .

Least said about this the better but it is the 1st of January 2007. I think Teddy had a hangover.

I don't for a minute think this particular vessel is some kind of traditional craft peculiar to the Loire but it is very similar to others you see tied up for the winter along her banks. The engine, as you can see, is in the bow, but the paddle wheels are at the stern. Quite how this works, or what it is for, is yet for me to discover. If it is primarily a fishing vessel, it is very difficult to see how it can manage the great currents flowing from left to right, unless perhaps it just slings an anchor out to, as it were, put the breaks on.... more about this later. the "garden shed" in the middle is presumably full of fishing tackle and sundry creature comforts.

Year 2006 - What a year!

A Message to all our Family and Friends

We celebrated last Christmas and New Year (2005/6) on board what was then our new barge home, "Body and Soul", moored at Isleham on the river Lark in Cambridgeshire. Our village shop, Tastebuds, had  been sold but I was still working to finish my contract with the Post Office, which ended on December 23rd (05).

Life is just a bowl of cherries....

Both Lucie and I felt a huge sense of excitement and relief together with some trepidation. We had taken a risk in putting what capital we had into a barge home which we could afford outright rather than into a conventional property and the inevitable borrowing that this would entail. This has enabled us to fulfill our dream of travelling in Europe. France was the obvious choice - Lucie being half a native is fluent in the language and has family living there. We had to be able to afford to live there with not much more than our state pensions with which to do it. Our beloved "Boo Boo" (the American Recreational Vehicle in which we had happily lived for over 2 years,) would - sadly - have to be sold.

But in these early days, to me, France was still just a dream. Life in retirement was good as it was and, provided that our boat did not develop any serious problems (of the sinking sort!), we were quite happy to indulge in having the time, at last, to enjoy life "outside the box". We needed at least six months in England, to enable us to deal with any warranty matters that would inevitably arise and also to get used to "Body and Soul", her machinery and her handling. We made many river trips to Ely and St. Ives and we jointly passed the test needed to get the license to operate on international inland waterways.

The point of no return came when in January, we booked the date for lifting "Body and Soul" out of the water at Westview Marina prior to our departure in April. She was to have her "bottom" repainted under warranty at the same time as being loaded on to the articulated transporter destined for "La Belle France".

Her passage was booked and we were hooked. Hooked into an unstoppable surge of final decision making. But already we were enjoying the freedom and the time to be ourselves. It was at this time, perversely, that we had a terrible phonecall from poor Robert, telling us of Jo's tragic death at St. Margaret's Bay. We all miss her. What a loss to Robert, her family and to all who knew her.

Since our arrival in France, it is as though real life has just begun. We have met so many new friends, seen so many places, experienced so much natural beauty and of course the food and wine is a frequent addition to our pleasure - we sometimes feel almost guilty!

Of all comparisons between France and Britain, it is the sense of sheer space which appeals to me most. Sometimes, when cruising these lovely canals even at the height of the season, we might come across just three other boats in the course of a whole day. The navigable rivers too are, in general, much bigger and have relatively few boats upon them. (The second photo here is when Bro' Rob helps to save our unbrella. He fails!) There are some massive commercial barges still operating but one senses that these are decreasing in number year by year. The hire boat season starts on the May bank Holiday, peaks in August and ceases quite abruptly at the end of September and just a small trickle in October - most canals close their locks from November until end of March. 

Now we have been able to make time for having family or friends visiting. This is a luxury never before afforded to either of us, due to the unrelenting demands of Hotel and Retail businesses. We look forward to many more visitors in 2007. For those old friends that we have sadly neglected in recent years, book now d'ye hear, go on!

For those who are familiar with the waterways of France, it may be of interest to know that we have been down and up the Canal De Nivernais, part of the Canal Lateral De La Loire, both down and up The Canal De Digoine et Roanne, up the Canal Du Centre, down and up part of the River Soane with some diversions off it. We have done the Canal De Bourgogne going north and back to our starting point at Laroche Migennes.

Another very sad event, the sudden death of Lucie's step mother, Marie-Jeanne, meant that we spent quite a lot of time in Joigny during September because of its proximity to Lucie's family home, Domaine De Beaurin. There were funeral matters to attend to and various family meetings held during this time, but Joigny and the river Yonne, were pleasant enough at this time of the year. We were much cheered by the arrival of Alan, Amanda and family (Harry and Lois) who camped at Cezy Sur Yonne - just down-stream from Joigny.

This was their first venture into family camping and possibly their first real "two week" family holiday. We had great fun together moored most of the time opposite their camp site on the other side of the Yonne. I am sure they went home exhausted!

After Joigny we cruised the river Yonne northwards towards Paris, turning left on to the River Seine at Montereau and then after a short distance, another left turn into the Canal De Loing and to Moret Sur Loing. Our vague intention was to check out the possibility of securing a winter mooring at Briare, which had been recommended to us. From Moret then, through to Briare on the Canal de Briare. We were - and still are - very impressed with Briare both for its beauty and for its boating facilities and we did precisely what we wanted there - we booked ourselves in for the winter - starting on the 1st November.

Then there was the Walker get together to celebrate Judy's 70th Birthday on the 23rd September at Domaine de Beaurin - a great and happy occasion, although sadly without Robert's Jo.  

Judy and Jerry, Robert, Lucie and I all stayed at the house and did lots of silly things together as one does on these occasions, culminating in a final farewell dinner and outing to Moret Sur Loing.

With a bit of September and the whole of October to go before the closure of the Locks we set off south down the Canal De Briare, Joining the Canal Lateral de la Loire, and then the Canal du Centre to Decise. Our intentions were to "re-live" the Nivernais this time going northwards, through Auxerre, Joigny, Montereau, Moret and back to Briare. This is, of course, not to mention all the other beautiful places in between. We arrived back at our secured moorings towards the end of October, feeling thoroughly healthy but ready for a rest.

Now as I write this blog, Christmas is under our belts, (as it were!), we look forward to 2007 and the New Year Celebrations with Sophie (my er..daughter), her "Bump" and Stephen, her husband, visiting us for that purpose. What a year it has been. Plans for the great trip down the Rhone next April are well under way and we have already fixed a winter mooring at Castelmoron Sur Lot. (Recommendation from yet another friend we have met on our travels.)

Both Lucie and I wish all in both our rapidly expanding families and all other relatives, especially Aunt Lois (the family "elder"!) our friends and anyone else who may read this - all the best and have a very happy and prosperous 2007. Please keep in touch with us if you can through all the means now available.

We are available through "Skype", which is free, for at least a "chat". It isn't very sensible to publish any addresses or telephone numbers, email etc on the web.

Just a few photos to get on with...

This is a photo of us celebrating Judy's 70th at a wonderful restaurant in Moret Sur Loing - Left to right - Jerry, Judy, Robert, Lucie and Me. A farewell "do" after a weekend at Bourain. (Lucie's family home)

Alan and Harry on board HMS Quicksink at Cezy Sur Yonne during the heatwave and their holiday..that's Moo hanging in there with her feet. Click on photo for larger version.

Not sure who should be wearing the waterwings!

Just another one of those happy holiday snaps with Moo, Lois, Harry and Me - don't know quite where we were at the time.

This picture shows us moored alongside The MS Elisabeth, a very large private hotel boat belonging to some new friends of ours, Bernard and Martine, whom we met here at Moret Sur Loing. We thought we were pretty big until we tied up against her. It was enough to give anyone a complex about size! We are to visit them in Belgium in February 07 and stay for a week. Lucie helped them out in an emergency when Bernard had an accident on his bike and was unable to do anything for a week. They had a big party of guests coming on board that same week and no staff! How I know that feeling!

Christmas and after

We had a lovely time. No need to know how much of everything we had but it was considerable and, of course, immediately followed by the usual feelings of remorse and guilt about the poor and the starving. The contacts we made through the Internet with all the family on Christmas day and boxing day made it what it should be all about - great fun, much love and laughter permeated cyber-space and thanks for keeping in touch.

One can only look forward to great improvements in our collective skills by the same time next year. Just imagine how much more proficient we will have become by then? Will we be seeing each other live ? ("beam me up Scottie" sort of thing! ) who knows what technical improvements there will be.  I am sure that broadband will be universal by then.

Just a word about Teddy and Spud. Teddy is already too fat and didn't take kindly to the diet I have now put him on and Spuddy got terrible wind which was cured by placing a hot water bottle over his distended stomach. Click on photos herewith for a larger view.

On Christmas Eve we "entertained" our recently acquired friends Jenny and Keith who own the boat "Gulliver", (a Saga Marine Barge Look alike) across the other side of the "Port de Plaisance" (Marina) They are the couple who we met on our various travels, who recommended Briare for this winter mooring.

Here is our menu!

Smoked salmon with black bread canapes, Cremant De Bourgogne

Doz Oysters, Rully  ( a lovely tasty dry white wine)

Breast of Local Free Range Duck (with an armagnac and Agen Prune sauce with Parsnip and celeriac, Roast Baby Potatoes and Red onions, Mangetouts and fine green beans)

Cote De Bourg (not unlike a good claret with plenty of tannin)

Terrine of Three Cheeses with Pistacio (Layered Terrine of 3 Cheeses & pistachios)

Creme Brulee with a pudding wine

Coffee and armagnac

With no surprise, we had a little lay-in on Christmas morning before going to Jenny and Keith's boat for a late traditional lunch of turkey and what a terrific lunch they laid on. Just perfect - including the pudding and some very alcoholic sauce. More superb wines with each course and a malt whisky to follow...somehow, over an extended period, Lucie and I managed a little smoked salmon with lemon before tumbling into bed at about eleven - having walked the dogs and restarted the woodburner - just simply marvellous!

In between we have had friends in and been to friends various. Stephen and Sophie with her bump are due to arrive for the New year celebrations - staying for a few days, and Lucie is cooking up another storm! News of this encounter, if you can bear it, will be "soon as......"

Christmas Eve 2006

l This picture is not to demonstrate the effects of global warming, it's our Christmas Birthday Girl, Emily - OK, in warmer times - somewhere on the East Coast of England - was it three years ago?

Lucie and I wish both our families and friends a very merry Christmas from "Body and Soul" and hope that you will remain in contact with us in the coming year, either by finding us on the waterways of France, wherever we are, or at least, using the marvels of technology now available to us, in the form of email, "skype", "text" etc.

(We can "skype chat" but the GPRS signal in Briare cannot cope with "skype audio" at present)

Our "techno-skills" are rapidly improving and this blog site will, we hope, provide an ever more lively running commentary on our activities in retirement on Body and Soul for those, of course, who are in the least bit interested!

Birthday girl !

A very happy birthday to Emily who is eleven..er actually yesterday, but I did remember a card etc., which I hope got there in time from La Belle France. I often wonder what it is like to have a birthday so near to Christmas - is it double the pleasure or do you feel cheated of a proper birthday? - no need to answer that!

Sorry Emily but it'sthe only one I can find.

Here we are at Briare for this winter but we have already booked a place in Castelmoron, for next winter, which is on the river Lot. So a lot (that's a cracker!) more about this haven in the South, near Bordeaux/ Toulouse, with pictures, as soon as I can next get Lucie off this bloody machine!

I have actually now tried to upload some more pictures but there is some kind of error which stops it happening !..... Then it asks for a report and apologizes for the error. Huh.

Hope you will manage a visit to "Body and Soul" sometime wherever we are, even if it isn't in Briare or Castelmoron. What about spring when the locks re-open, or summer or Autumn before the locks close again!?   Some hopes, what with you lot going to China so often.

Happy Birthday and Christmas all in one big sloppy kiss...yuck.

Emily, please keep up the music, it will pay dividends in your long life to come even if sometimes you might find it a chore...and you have plenty of talent as we now know. ...and keep checking this blog for more news and photos when I have got the thing under control.

Just a sweet photo of Teddy doing the locks

What does this mean,

This is Teddy who likes to hop off the boat in between locks (sorry, Ecluses) and rather than have to run, why not take a hike on a bike?

What does this mean - begin and end quote - has anyone any idea how to create a popup note linked to a text word? Please help me...

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 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!)    

Grappling with Typepad

I have, at last, managed to insert a photo of Lois and I think, nay hope, that this means that, bit by bit I am surely getting the hang of "Typepad". The problem was that in order to insert a picture one has to press the "insert image"  button which I did but the "Pop up" window refused to pop up until I learned that the trick is to press "control" as you click the "insert image" button - well I didn't know did I?

Now there's no stopping me - watch this space !

This is just one of many lovely pictures which I particularly like but... don't worry, Harry, Emily and Cameron, there will be many more to come of all you lot as well as some of us and our various goings on - It is her birthday on the 9th after all - Happy birthday Lois!

Now I've got to sort out the presentation of the whole site....stay with me and keep visiting this site ... Tillersandtastebuds.typepad.com

Grappling with Typepad

This is so annoying, I can't tell you - to a home hacker, just startin out, like me, this Host (Typepad) is very complicated and I am frustrated by the difficulties in posting anything other than text to my site. My site is currently in a muddle and it's taking me hours to edit and arrange the look of it to my liking.... does anyone in the world care?

The first Body and Soul blog

I am writing this blog early on Monday morning (30th October),  in my dressing- gown. Lucie and both dogs are still asleep. A cup of tea is at hand and the Jotul woodburner has miraculously come back to life. Our floating home is warm and very comfortable. It is still dark outside but I am now aware of Briare, the town we have chosen for our winter mooring, coming to life with noisy dust carts and early commuter traffic. It's those motorbikes which make that specially French sound.

This is our third day here having "steamed" in on Friday afternoon. Sally and Bruce, old friends from Suffolk, have been with us for a week's holiday and left by train on Saturday. "A jolly week" would be an understatement and we will need some time to recover.

For those interested at all in our welfare and general goings on, we will be adding to this blog every week at least. I have yet to learn how to insert a photo or perhaps a cartoon to make it all frightfully entertaining.

1st December 2006

Several weeks after promising you (avid blog readers) of at least "weekly updates", you have to realize that we are not at all proficient at using this blogging thing and I am still having difficulties in inserting photos and maps. What I can say is that when, with practice, we get the hang of it, it will be fantastic!

Since last posting a blog we've been visiting our ex solicitor friends, the Seviers, in the South of France for a week - near Fayence, near Nice - and have just got back (Monday). That TGV railway system is fantastic. From Migenne to Marseille in just over 3 hours of "whisperingly quiet train" with our two boys, Spud and Teds, who behaved perfectly throughout and similarly on the return journey.