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Mediterranean,

Shmediterreanan,

Dead-iterranean

22nd June to 30th July

1. Port Saint Louis du Rhone to 2. VilleFranche and back again

In the words of Julius Cesaer, a well known Mediterran-ophile

‘Devenimus, voluti, discessimus’

(We arrived, we rolled, we left)

Our first sight of the Med outside Port Saint Louis du Rhone. Those masts are not where they should be………….

Whilst in Toulon Mark worked happily on installing the black water tank (the pooh tank) we’ve carted around in the engine room since 2018.

As strong winds were predicted I went to noice Nice to see the Matisse museum and the Chagall museum.

Flemmo friends Mick and Megan came to play and stay on board from Toulon to Villefranche-sur-mer.

Man, it was hot, hot, hot. We were in the grip of an extreme heat wave with no temps under 23 at night and a hot and humid 33 (minimum) every day. Luckily we were at anchor most of the time so a cooling swim helped.

The anchorage at Île de Porquerolles was very calm and beautiful. The island is a holiday destination and is covered in eucalypts making us quite homesick.

On July 14 all of France collaborated to celebrate Mark’s birthday. We were anchored off the coast of Cannes at the Lérin Islands between Ile Sainte-Marguerite (where the Man in the Iron Mask languished) and Ile Saint-Honorat with about 20,000 of our closest boating friends. Slight exaggeration…..as you can see there is plenty of room for more boats to slot in.

As part of celebration central you could choose a visit from the pizza boat, the champagne and wine boat or the mojito boat.

Megan chose the very popular mojito boat.

The lovely young man tied alongside to create four extra large mojitos, yum, yum.

And he even gave us extra ice.

(Strangely there’s not an ice making machine on the shelves in France to be seen.)

Of course there were fireworks for Mark’s birthday.

And again the next night.

To get away from the incessant rolling in the Med mostly caused by way too many speed boats, motor boats, enormous tenders and super yachts we spent a couple of nights in the lovely port of Golfe Juan. It was super hot but the port had a/c in the bathrooms, unlimited water in the shower and free (for plaisanciers) chilled sparkling or flat water. OMG! Heaven on a stick, or, in a bottle.

5 minutes up the hill is the ceramic town of Vallauris in which Picasso lived for 7 years. Vallauris has been a ceramics town for 2000 years and its ceramic experts enabled Picasso to create over 4000 clay objects.

You can say what you like about Picasso but he was nothing if not prolific and his clay artworks in the Museum of Ceramics were wonderful, irrepressible and delightful.

We anchored off Antibes, very much the holiday town, and were surrounded by all these little ducklings.

Mick and Megan left us in the Lorne of Nice: Villefranche-sur-mer to return to wintery Melbourne.

We turned out bows west to leave behind the hedonistic fleshpots of the Mediterranean in summer.

Pausing only to take advantage of the pizza boat (a mighty YUM!) between those islands out of Cannes. Resisted the mojitos this time.

There was so much watery wealth on display. So much of it ugly and tasteless. Often complete with a 20m tender and a helipad, sometimes two.

This is a beautiful boat.

And so is this…..

This modern super yacht (110m) has nice enough lines.

Elegant? I think not.

World Explorer is 77m of pure fugly. And don’t get me started on the festering scab of jet skis.

Baie des Canebiers is a glorious bay just out of Saint Tropez. It’s an excellent anchorage for both big and little boats. It’s very rolly in the morning as everyone speeds out to wherever they’re going, settles a little for lunch, and rolls around like crazy as they all come back in at the end of the day. Just as the sea settles and the sun sets and you don’t have to hang onto your glass of wine for fear of it ending up overboard and all is peaceful the music starts.

At one point ‘doof doof doofy’ music was belching from three separate locations: a catamaran anchored too close to us and two houses at either end of the bay.

Seriously….

Seriously selfish as one of the party locations played their ‘music’ until 7.30am.

And we were stuck in this ‘playground of the rich and beautiful’ for four nights because the westerly headwinds would not change direction.

We motor sailed to Toulon where real people have boats and onto Port Miou, a calanque just outside Cassis. It is a glorious place where you tie the stern to the cliff and pick up a mooring ball and watch the young men jump 10m, 20m or even 30m into the harbour.

Another reason for abandoning the hot, salty, overcrowded and selfish Mediterranean is poor old ‘Le Flâneur’ needs some serious love and attention. She already is showing too much rust on various deck parts and a salty environment is only going to make it worse.

Her hull and topsides need new paint. The best place to do these major renovations is La Pays Bas, The Netherlands, Holland.

Or maybe Poland.

So north we go.

Flaneuring all the way.

From Lyon to the Med

June 1st - 22nd

Huzzah! Bernie, our first visitor for 2023!

And, on reflection, she was also our only visitor in 2022.

Amongst other attractions: food, wine, silk, Roman ruins, free mooring with power and water, Lyon is a fine town with excellent street art.

Heading down the mighty river Rhone took us into big locks, mostly 11m-13m deep, except for the cathedrally deep Bollene ecluse with a drop of 24m. Love, love, love those floating bollards.

The Rhone flows past a great many fancy vineyards. Châteauneuf du Pape, Domain de Corps de Loups, Chateau de Julianas just to name drop a few. At Tournon, home of Tain l’Hermitage we called into a couple of wine tasting houses. Bernie twisted our arms. Truly Ruley.

Serious business this wine tasting.

That hat was never seen again.

The Charpoutier wine house (founded in 1808) has a Victorian connection in the Pyrenees hills which gladdened our hearts.

We pass by ancient fortresses like this one at Tarascon, ‘Chateau de Roi René’ from the 1400’s

as well as formidable sights such as this one.

What was once a thermal power plant from 1977 has been converted to a photovoltaic solar power source in 2019.

I’ll let google translate explain.

‘The industrial requalification of the site includes the demolition of the 250 m high concrete chimney , which is among the tallest constructions in France. The slaughter operation, scheduled for June 7, 2023, however partially fails; the explosion of the upper part, due to the degraded state of the chimney, prevents the fall of the lower part, which remains upright. The completion of the destruction is finally scheduled for the summer of 2023, by nibbling the remaining portion.’

At Arles we moored in our secret spot on the Petit Rhone. Unfortunately, the local lads also liked this location for jumping into the river after school to cool off.

It only takes one little arse to throw stones at our boat and the mooring becomes a lot less endearing.

Sculpture in the Arles cathedral.

Locals who threw one too many stones.

There had been many, many strikes and manifestations against Macron all year about the way in which he changed retirement age from 62 to 64. Hard to be sympathetic especially during a two hour lunch break.

We arrived in the armpit of France, Port Saint Louis du Rhone, just in time for my birthday and mast raising. What a combination.

323 km

12 locks

One stoning.......

2023 South with the Spring April and May

Chalons-en-Champagne to Lyon

130 locks,

2 tunnels, (Souterrain de Balesmes: 4.820m and Souterrain Condes: 308m)

505 kilometres,

5 moving bridges,

And the disruption of one film set …..

Chalon-en-Champagne had been our winter mooring since early October 2022 enabling us to return to Oz for 3 and a half months. It was now time to cast off our lines and on Easter Saturday, 8th April, we extracted Le Flâneur accompanied by a blast of boat horns from the remaining inhabitants of the boat harbour. All antipodeans, of course.

It was so, so good to back on the road again.

Our route south was along the ‘Canal entre Champagne et Bourgogne’ formerly know as ‘Canal de la Marne a la Sâone’. Obviously, a much sexier name for a canal for the 21st century. That’ll bring in the boats.

Not far down the canal was this sobering sight at Vitry-le-Francois.

It was time to re-skill line handling techniques in the 71 ascending locks.

The architecture along this route varies from Art Nouveau style to Jacques Tati-esque.

The ‘Canal entre Champagne et Bourgogne’ took us into the heartlands of France, La France Profonde, very rural and traditionelle. There are few towns along the canal and it’s always been sparsely populated.

Some villages were retail free, not even a coiffure or auto l’ecole. Incroyable!

But a few villages sported this sorry excuse for a take away.

‘Artisan Pizza’???!!!! Talk about taking the piss.

Fortunately they do not cater for the gluten free diet.

We cruised alongside the Marne river up to the watershed, 340m above sea level, through the Balesmes tunnel and down the canal along the Vingeanne river down to the Saone river.

Maximum headroom along the canal is 3.50m. Our headroom was estimated to be 3.45m. Mark rigged up a sacrificial piece of hose at the bow as an indicator for the low bridges.

The procedure was to slow right down (we were only doing 6km/h anyway in the canal) before a bridge and into neutral as we went under. Many times we could not believe there was room for us to fit but all it takes is 5mm and you’re through.

Until we came to the bridge with the attached new sign stating a height of 3.45m!

We held our breath, thought heavy thoughts and scraped through sort of side ways.

At Riaucort (a tiny, retail free village) we selfishly refused to move Le Flâneur ‘for just 30 minutes’ for an amateur theatre company. They arrived at 5.30pm (aperitif time), changed into pretend 19th century costumes (with 21st century wigs from the $2 shop, tres authentique) to film something for their company. They remembered to dress the set with old barrels and wicker baskets but ‘someone’ had not remembered to reserve the quay for the filming.

And the ‘cinematographer’ would not consider changing his shot list/POV.

And we were right in the way.

If it were possible we would have moved for the sake of art (and amateur dramatics).

But there was nowhere safe for us to move to. The sides of the canal were fallen in, there were no trees to tie off to and a steady breeze was blowing down the canal. Madame thought we were a car and if we just reversed for 15mins then we could return in 15 mins while they filmed.

She even thought she could bribe Mark to do this by allowing him to be an extra in their ‘film’.

As if! (I’d rather shit in my hands and clap.)

The predicament went on until a well known negotiator, M. Macron, was summoned on the phone and he solved it all by having them reserve the space next Saturday when they could frock up all over again. Luckily our negotiations managed to divert a nationwide strike and an international incident.

Baby tunnel ‘Souterrain Condes’ is two ways as it is 18m wide.

Exiting le grand tunnel ‘Souterrain de Balesmes’ after 4.820m (one way only).

Spring smells : wisteria, jasmine, pollen surrounded us as we moved slowly south down the canal. There were cows, of course, munching away in the fields and barns, coypu (much despised but very cute rodents introduced from South America to eat the pond weed from North America. Both now prolific in the French canals. Maybe they could try Cane Toads and Prickly Pear next?) frogs, horses, cuckoos, herons, geese, swifts, woodpeckers, a small flock of sheep herded by a bike riding shepherd, and the always optimistic fishermen.

It took us 3 weeks and 2 days to reach the Saone river. We started in coats and hats and jumpers and have now packed away all winter clothes.

Mark parading some of his new summer clothes from Tournus.

Saone river and approaching thunderstorm.

Trevoux was très beau.

Attention now turned to preparing the boat for the sea and stowing things safely. First, the Ebersbacher heater received a pipe trim. Those pipes were taking up way too much real estate and were cut back to bare bones. More storage room created. And the heater is about three times more efficient. We figure if we get rid of it altogether it will be 100% efficient.

Then Napoleon Rip-the-boat-apart cut holes into the floor allowing for proper access to the 4 x 80 kg batteries plus installation of storage boxes for tools. All very satisfying.

We’ve arrived in Lyon. The decks are ready for oiling and the sun is set to shine. We await our first guest of the season, Bernie, to help us enjoy this lovely city.

The Vines, the vines.....

The drought confined us to pootle very, very, very slowly through the Champagne region.

Oh, woe is us. Death, where is thy sting?

The beautiful rolling hills of the Marne Valley are covered with the three grape varieties destined to be bottled into real Champagne: pinot noir, chardonnay and meunier.

Every town and village is devoted to the production of the local sparkling. In many of the small towns you can’t buy a baguette but you can visit at least 10 different champagne houses.

Mark has a theory that he prefers champagne with as little chardonnay in the mix as possible. I was happy to help him sample some in the village of Cumieres one Tuesday afternoon and purchase some for later. This Champagne house, Blosseville Marniquet, has a waste-not-a-grape policy and so they turn excess pinot grapes in the local Cumieres rouge.

And again in Mareuil-sur-Ay on a Saturday afternoon……. Sniff it, sniff it good!

One we didn’t visit in Mareuil….

In Hautvillers, up a couple of steep vine laden hillsides from our mooring in Cumieres, is the grave of Dom Pérignon. It’s a busy place as its a compulsory stop for the many wine tours in the area. The first word on his grave is more than appropriate.

We moored in Epernay to take advantage of the free visit to the De Castellane Champagne house offered by the harbourmaster. 8 million bottles are stored in the 6km of caves underground. The tasting at the end of the tour, whilst welcome, was given the thumbs down by my resident champagne connoisseur, ‘Too much chardonnay!’

And so we continued the pursuit of the perfect champagne for a very particular palate. A champagne with 100% pinot noir grapes was found and consumed. We’re very happy to continue this important research with assistance from the Champagne House of Eric Maître.

The grapes were harvested early this year due to the persistent heatwave. 2022 will be an excellent vintage.

After spending so much of the summer surrounded by champagne we were very pleased when a space was found for ‘Le Flâneur’ to winter in Chalons-en-Champagne.

Only in France....

It’s all about the shade....

7th July - 21st August

We’re having a heatwave, an ongoing heatwave……

It’s hot, hot, hot. Hot, hot, hot.

France and most of Europe are sweltering in an unrelenting heatwave. 100 French regions are officially in drought and many have no drinking water.

After a mild winter with little rain the reservoirs are low and as a consequence the canals are struggling.

Belgium has just closed small canals and pleasure boats like us can only travel the big canals with the commerce who always go first into the locks (as they should).

The water situation in Europe is much worse than 2018.

During July and August our travels along the Marne river have focused on finding shady moorings. Shady tree moorings along a river bank so we can ‘swim’ and cool off.

Not really swim but a cooling dip into the reasonably clean green river.

Daily our minds are occupied working out where the sun was likely to set along the looping Marne.

Most of the official pontoons and quays were always on the sunny side of the river so finding tree moorings with enough depth, the right distance apart, no fishermen and not at the bottom of someone’s garden took time and trials.

Between shade searches we touristified ‘un peu.’

At Meaux we visited the ‘Musee de la Guerre’. Despite its name the museum focused on WW1 along the Marne, not the entire war and emphasised the American contribution in the area. They only arrived in 1917.

The collections were creatively presented although this one, half in and half out of the case, made me jump.

Baldrick and Captain Klink made a surprise visit.

France likes to celebrate Mark’s birthday on July 14 and for once we were here to enjoy the celebrations but it was so Hot!

With temperatures heading north of 37degrees we spent the holiday with our NBF’s (New Best Friends) Peggy and Gary off ‘Viking’. We were partly tied to trees in a forlorn hope of some shade before the sun went down. Mark swam over to the shore to get lines around tree trunks. He wasn’t complaining. Gary very kindly made gf pizzas as a birthday treat.

Here we are having snacks and drinks with Gary and Peggy, their grand daughter and daughter visiting from Toronto.

Chateau-Thierry boasts a fortress first mentioned in 923, as you do. On the hot Sunday we visited a Medieval Fayre was in progress. Apparently Medieval performers only create costumes for cold weather.

Except this one.

The outstanding modern activity at the fortress is not the eagle display but the tree walk. Mark and other adults greatly outnumbered the few children up in the nets. It was the best place to catch the cooling breezes and to gently bounce.

It did rain one day.

It drizzled most of the day.

It was marvellous.

We walked across the river to a champagne village named Oeuilly to visit the ‘Maison Champagnoise Musee’.

Apart from winning the prize for the most head-scratchingly-creative English translation pages (must have been done by the work exchange student back in 1998) this mannequin exhibited at the Musee is a podium contender for our Museum Mannequin 2022 award.

The competition is hotting up.

Like the weather.

The never ending heatwave was closing canals all over France.

We arrived in Chalons-en-Champagne and could go no further towards our goal of wintering in Strasbourg. In 2018 when we were last here ice was our problem, now it is lack of rain.

Chalons is a great town. It used to be called Chalons-sur-Marne and was mentioned as far back as 451 when the battle of Chalons turned back Attila. It is also notable as the crash site of of Snoopy when he fought the Red Baron! Incroyable!

In the main square is the most fanciful carousel ever.

The nearby Jard was hosting a free 3 day music festival for female musicians. On Friday night we joined the locals to watch the mostly fantastic musicians.

Our position on the pontoon meant we were part of the festival whether we visited it or not. It was too hot to do anything else but enjoy the music.

Chalons also boasts a ‘Musee des Beaux-arts et d’Archeologie’ which includes a collection of almost 3000 stuffed birds from all around the world. They exuded a spooky kind of charm.

Moi avec lyre birds. All of us a very long way from home.

It was very nice to see this self portrait by Aline Hurault de Sorbée from the Musee celebrated in the busy Jardin area.

We would like to travel from left to right (west to east) to Strasbourg but as the map shows our way is all red and ‘You shall not pass!’

Doights croisés some of the canals will return to green as August passes to a cooler September.

Three Nights in Paris

30th June - 6th July

When in Paris we stay at the ‘Port de Paris Arsenal’ where you can be sure the Sapeur Pompiers (very fit French firefighters) will prevent your boat from sinking. The beautiful “Petrus III’ was soon on an even keel thanks to those brave boys in neoprene.

Paris in the summer. A city of long days and short nights.

The Paris Mairie has been renovating since we were last moored at the Arsenal Port located next to the Bastille.

Previously the port was mostly secured after 10pm from the general public. Now however, after removing the roundabout at the Bastille column and creating instead a public (curved) square the noisy, singing, partying, ‘happy its summer’ public can wander past the boats moored on the green side of the port until they go home. At 5am….or whenever.

It’s a big city. You expect noise and people. That is part of the fun.

Fortunately we were moored on the other side of the port, rafted up to a welcoming French live-aboard.

The port bridge features in the last episode of ‘Lupin’. This is for you, Bernie.

This time in Paris we wanted to visit some of the smaller museums we hadn’t seen before. With this in mind we went first to the ‘Musee National Jean-Jacques Henner’ and had it all to ourselves. Along with security guards who rarely looked up from their phones. Henner was an artist who typified everything the Impressionists were reacting against.

He won the ‘Prix de Rome’ and exhibited in the Salon shows many times and was given all sorts of awards and commissions during his lifetime. His work is lovely but deeply conservative. His museum is in the building he lived and worked in through his lifetime. No long queues here.

As we were in the bourgeois right bank ‘Grand Boulevards’ area we came across the covered arcades. I have been wanting to explore them for years.

They were around the corner from where we ate lunch: the entertaining and more than 120 years old ‘Bouillion Chartier’ restaurant.

The doorman and waiters made a point of being as charismatic and delightful as possible. The food might have been fairly Coles cafeteria (but with snails and bloc de foie gras de canard on the menu) but the experience was memorable for all the right reasons.

Our Paris visit coincided with Flemington friends Barbara and Ian and we all visited Musee National Picasso Paris.

The excellent exhibition concentrated on Picasso’s daughter Maya Ruiz-Picasso. Many of the artworks featured her and were also given by her to the state in order to avoid significant taxes.

Picasso was such a prolific artist. Able to produce enough artworks to have shows in both Paris and Melbourne at the same time.

I was very excited to see Picasso’s ‘Bulls Head’ made from a bicycle seat and handle bars,

and Duchamp’s provocative ‘Fountain’ previously only seen by me in black and white photos in my Janson’s ‘History of Art’ book from school days.

After three nights in Paris we wanted somewhere cool and green and shady so we motored up the Marne river where we were still on the Metro system. Suburb-wise it was like being in Belgrave but we were only 8km from the centre of town. Because we were so close to Paris I left Mark to install solar panels and took advantage of the first Sunday in the month when most of the museums are free to visit the ‘Musee de L’Orangerie’ for the first time.

It’s permanent collection contained some of my favourite Picassos…

and the curated exhibition focused on ‘The Decorative Impressionists’. It contained wonderful, often early Impressionist artworks, when they were commissioned to paint interiors. I don’t usually like Renoir but this one was fetching.

It was refreshing to see some of the women Impressionists featured such as Berthe Morisot

and Mary Cassatt.

We stayed on our pontoon which was fitted with a security gate (so secure even small children could open it so as to paddle in the water as the weather hotted up) for 5 nights so we could have a final evening with Di and Graeme before they returned to The Netherlands.

Time now to head north-east into the Champagne district. Fingers crossed there will be enough water in the canals.

All rivers lead to Paris....

24th - 30th June 2022

In the last week of June we motored down the Oise River to Compiegne where Jimi fans are well catered for.

As well as filling our fuel tanks at Compiegne we spend a little time touristificating.

Napoleon III particularly liked to stay at his Compiegne Chateau in the Autumn with his court and attend to some administration in his spare time.

He instructed his interior designer to go the full frou-frou in the chateau with OTT decor including love seats for two and also three….ooh la la!

It is hard to believe anyone could have restful dreams in this bedroom decorated for the Emperor.

Mark found a friend in the Chateau.

The Chateau also included a rather fabulous car museum opened in 1927. It contains horse drawn coaches from the 17th century to early cars and bicycles. There was an electric land speed racer from 1899 that reached 105.88 km/h, the La Jamais Contente, driven by Belgium daredevil Camille Jenatzy as well as early pushbikes with extra style.

If you look closely you can see Imogen in this bike race.

The chateau has seen some action over the years from various wars.

From the River Oise we turned left onto the big wide Seine but didn’t get very far as the perfect pontoon beckoned. It was right alongside a charming Italian restaurant with a river terrasse and vines to keep the sun at bay. Didn’t even have to lock the boat when we went out for dinner.

We didn’t mean to travel 65km and 4 locks the next day but some plans just don’t work. At the start of the day we intended to take the short cut through Paris along the St Denis canal and then the St Martin canal to the port at the Bastille. But commerce barges and broken locks put an end to that so we motored the serpentine loops of the Seine instead.

Just what every music and performing arts centre needs: a moose. This one can be found at La Seine Musicale.

Coming into Paris at any time is a treat but coming up the river at 7pm on a warm June evening when the river is awash with tourists and locals waving and drinking and partying and visiting the Tour Eiffel on those dreaded Bateau-Mouches and Bato-bus and everyone is having a great time was wonderful.

Mark at the helm negotiating the river traffic.

Our Paris odyssey ended with an insistent barge powering up our bum. He was unable to pass in the narrow waterway alongside the Ile de la Cite and Ile St Louis but also did not want to slow down for us. When he was able to overtake he didn’t wave unlike every other barge on the Seine. (It’s name is Pen Duck.)

Entering the Port de Paris Arsenal at the Bastille we were directed to tie up to another boat who just happened to be flying the Australian flag.

‘Ah, well, that’s warm, friendly France for you.’

June 8th - 21st June

And was Grace Kelly ever right when she said those immortal words in ‘To Catch a Thief’.

Maybe it’s just the north of France but the people here have been turning on the friendly happies and ‘Bonjour’-ing away with unrestrained French gusto.

Every ‘Bonjour’ brings a little glow of pleasure to our trip.

Our first proper night in France introduced us to WEED. Not the smoking stuff but the ‘herb-malereuse’ type, also know as ‘Milfoil’, an aquatic plant escaped from aquariums and thriving in shallow canals making them even shallower.

As we entered the beginning of the Canal St.Quentin the combination of shallow water, few barges and lots of weed saw us wild moor opposite very helpful neighbours.

One supplied a super sized mallet for our Rond anchors, one brought out her chair to watch the entertainment and one, Adrian, showed some of us his renovations of an old wine merchant property.

Then after dinner Adrian bought local beers over and we conversed avec l’aide de M.Google.

Di and Graeme’s boat ‘Opdreef’ nestled in with the weed.

At Cambrai Bernie joined us for a week of French fun and frivolity.

Bernie’s first night coincided with Graeme’s 70th birthday, a cause for great celebrations.

The next night Adrian came back to visit but this time with his WW2 troop mover. He took Mark and the ‘Opdreef’ crew for a noisy spin around Cambrai.

Down the St Quentin canal we slowly motored, limboing under bridges. Our air height is 3.5m. Some of the bridges were only 3.6m. Just a little nerve wracking on approach.

On June 14 we were towed through the Riqueval tunnel by an electric tug.

The tunnel is 5.6km long and was completed in 1810 by Napoleon Bonaparte. (Gosh, he was a busy man.) It takes approximately 2 hours to traverse the tunnel.

We have been through this tunnel numerous times and always as tail-end Charlie. The first time, in 1992, was in our 17 ft Silhouette behind 10 barges and a Belgium cruiser. The second time in 2005 was with 2 children and we were behind 5 barges and 2 Dutch tjalks. Again, as the little red caboose (even though we were 11m).

Every other time we were always behind barges as the final boat. In 2018 there was just us and one barge. Today we were front of the queue and able to clearly see and hear the electric tug.

No fumes this time. Just us and two other pleasure boats.

Entering the tunnel.

What’s that, Bern?

This picture was taken by a young Dutchman from the final boat who liked to walk the footpath.

Out into the daylight at the other end of the tunnel and the tow wants their lines back.

Another tunnel awaited but this time only 1km and no tug required (lame joke). We moored at a green and shady spot and as it was my birthday Di made me a special crown from the local flora.

The tow path is popular with walkers/joggers/potential Tour de France riders and everyone said ‘Bonjour’ as they passed including Isabel with her dog Pablo. As a journalist Isabel was very interested in the state of the canal and how few boats or peniche pass by.

We took her for a trip down to the second lock at St Quentin. Pablo did not like it at all.

Then Isabel invited all of us, Di and Graeme included, to dinner at her house. Pablo was much happier there.

In St Quentin Bernie and I explored the town and found alleged body parts of the saint in the cathedral. The town is on the pilgrim trail heading down to Santiago de Compostela.

And then we found a fine restaurant for replenishing the body after being a tourist.

After a week Bernie left for Madrid so we continued south as well looking for a cool and shady mooring as France was enjoying a hot spell with temperatures up to 38 degrees.

It was so hot we had to swim in the canal. This photograph was taken by Graeme from the water.

Avoiding Antwerp or Through Belgium in a long weekend.

15th May to 7th June

We finally said goodbye to Sneek and beautiful Friesland on 15th May after taking on 500 litres of diesel. Thanks to Vladimir Putin diesel was twice the price of last year. Dictators, when are they going to learn?

Our route south took us through Enkhuizen, an unexpectedly touristic Volendam and down to Amsterdam where we bought solar panels and put the last remaining mast down.

Our Amsterdam highlight was the humbling of Scotty from Marketing. It was even reported by the Dutch media at our Sixhaven marina. It was a happy result despite being denied our voting rights as well as our democracy sausage.

We continued south down the choppy motorway that is the Amsterdam-Rhine canal to unload excess boat things at the ‘Vinkerveen’ boat-parts shop and out onto the Lek, the Waal and finally the Maas, all rivers of the Rhine delta exiting The Netherlands.

Mixing it with other sport boats in the Gorinchem sluis.

We stopped at lovely Willemstad where sheep were gainfully employed at keeping the grass down.

The ‘Maurtisz Huis Museum’, Willemstad, won our inaugural award for the worst/best ‘Mannequins in a Museum 2022’.

The long armed smoker was a strong contender, as was the scary school teacher but outstanding in this category was the maid posing as the local Kardashian.

We will do almost anything to avoid motoring through Antwerp (and Bruxelles for that matter) so we took a new route out of The Netherlands to arrive in Ternuezen where the big ships roam. The wake from the first one took us by surprise and threw poor Le Flâneur about quite a bit but we were ready for the rest of them.

Mixing it with four of the big barges in the final Dutch lock.

The Netherlands and Belgium merged together without any obvious change so we barely knew when we had crossed the border. We only spent 4 nights in Belgium as there were few places to moor for plaicansier/sportboots like us.

Our Belgium highlight was meeting up with Di and Graeme with their friend Peter on the good ship ‘Opdreef’ in the boat slum of Wervik, Belgium.

Next stop: France!

From Berlin to Brandsma

Friday 6th May - Wednesday 11th May 2022

After a month of hard work in Berlin we can now turn our attention to the hard work needed on the boat.

Our train journey from Berlin includes the mandatory delay that is the speciality of Deutsche Bahn on all its rail services. Free of charge of course. Fortunately the broken train engine doesn’t prevent us from making our connections and arriving in Zwolle in time to enjoy Liberation Day celebrations. Or, as Mark observed, Libation Day, as most people had had a few sherbets by evening.

The next day is a happy one when we return to the patiently waiting Le Flâneur high and dry in the yard where we left her at Brandsma Jachten, Sneek.

Saying adieu at the start of February. It was pretty chilly.

Fortunately, over the last three months, we’ve been able to keep an eye on her via their webcam.

Typical webcam scene: one crew member hard at work and the other messing about with anti-foul. Thanks George Awburn for the image.

But overall everything is good.

Except for the batteries. They are victims of the covid so we need to install four new great big batteries.

And a forward looking sonar. Here’s Mark putting the sonar hole in the boat. He loves it.

This season Le Flâneur is wearing mid blue (or is it teal?) anti-foul complemented by a wine red waterline. A cheeky variation on traditional maritime colours.

All ready for slipping.

The straps are on. The crane is about deposit our fine vessel into the water at last.

No leaks below the waterline and no time to take piccies because it is all too exciting.

Finally we can break out the G&T’s, have a rest and consider the next challenge:

Which way will we go? Which way will we go?

The Squalor, The Squalor………

April 7 - May 5 2022

After our very enjoyable two month sojourn in Melbourne for February and March we return to Le Flâneur via Berlin.

This months challenge is to empty the flat in Wedding of our dead German tenant, Matthias, and have it ready for the new Australian tenants by the end of April or thereabouts.

Matthias had lived in the flat for 23 years and was a smoker and a hoarder.

His next of kin took no responsibility to clear out his belongings so it was up to us.

Step No.1: Get in.

There were no keys. The irresponsible brother had taken the only known set of keys and left us high and dry.

Luckily the nearby locksmith, after calling the police to verify we were legally allowed to enter the flat, drilled out the door keys and cut some letter box keys.

The house keys were supplied by friendly neighbours for the locksmith to make copies.

Step No. 2:

Now that we had access inside always wear gloves. Touch nothing without wearing gloves and don’t look too closely at some things. You just do not want to know. And be careful where you sit. Maybe don’t sit at all.

Below are pictures of the state of the flat.

The lounge room.

The kitchen from one direction....

And from the other.......

The bathroom and some of the hall.

What’s left of the record collection.

The bedroom.......

Supposedly it’s a starter pistol.

With the help of two very friendly chaps, Omar and Mo, who we found on Task Rabbit (like Air Tasker) we spent the first week emptying the flat of all the stuff accumulated over a lifetime.

Very little was left behind.

Step No. 3

Let the cleaning and painting begin.

Being a professional smoker Matthias had left the flat nicotine brown. The walls, ceilings and windows needed to all be sugar soaped before they could be painted. We needed assistance if we were to get back to the boat before the end of the summer season. Mo and Omar washed down the lounge room and then we had the help of Marnie, an Australian artist from Cairns who has lived in Berlin for almost 7 years, for the cleaning and painting.

Mo and Omar cleaning the walls and windows. The filthy, disgusting carpet was hiding these great floorboards.

We were able to camp/squat/glamp a week after arriving which was a relief because this flat is only on the third floor. Where we were staying was on the fifth without a lift.

Happy man with an air fryer and a glass of wine after a long days’ work.

The view from the balcony.

The difference between a freshly painted door and a smoke soaked one.

Then Bernie arrived to augment the work crew. Dear Bern. She thought she was on a European holiday. Hah! She enthusiastically put her back into the scraping and sanding and painting.

Marnie and me hard at work on the lovely old style double glazed windows. Each set had 16 seperate frames and there were 3 sets of windows.....plus the double french doors in the kitchen.......

Windows painted and cleaned. Time for a well earned G & T.

We did have a day or two off for some touristification.

Flea market near Tiergarten on May Day.

Joining the workers for the wurst, the beer and the speeches at the Brandenburg gate.

And we found the real Friedrichstrasse just for Imogen Ellis and Nicholas and Gillian Elliot.

The biggest frustration was obtaining a kitchen. Ikea proved to be unbelievably difficult to pin down for the parts we wanted: 3 carcasses for the stove, the sink and the cooktop and some cupboards across the top. Do they really think we have time to make appointments for two or more visits both at least 40 mins away on the train?

We need these things NOW!

Anyhoo, despite giving the kitchen our very best shot we had to leave Berlin with a half presented kitchen. Although the website for Hellweg, a German Bunnings, stated 2-3 days for the kitchen parts it was already over a week when we left.

The flat is very different now.

Now onto Le Flâneur waiting patiently for us in Sneek.

Just need to anti-foul, paint the water line, polish the hull and put in a few important fittings.

Piece of cake.

Strasbourg

November 22 - 25th

Two hours on the train took us to Strasbourg to visit our friends Deb and Mark wintering there on their barge, Melba.

We were tickled to find Melba in the same mooring space in the same marina as Le Flâneur had been in 2018.

We felt so very French in Strasbourg because our days revolved around lunch, naturellement.

We ate at ‘Le Banquet des Sophistes’ (yep, that’s us, sophisticated) a Michelin plated restaurant for 20euros a head for a three course meal. Yummy and a bargain!

And then we played boules with French rules.

Mark channeling Jaques Tati in “M.Hulot’s Holiday.’

The next morning we visited the Musee Lalique an hour away from Strasbourg through rolling French countryside.

The museum displayed a fine collection of Lalique jewellery in the Art Nouveau style.

My absolute favourite was these lorgnettes

But I’d settle for any of this glassware.

Then, of course, it was time for lunch. This time at Chateau Hochberg, two minutes walk from the Musee. Very fancy and adult and only 25euros for another sensational three course lunch.

Strasbourg calls itself the ‘Capital of Christmas.’ The Christmas markets were just being set up when we were there. Unlike almost everywhere else in 2021 Strasbourg was not cancelling their markets because of Covid.

God, but the French know how to display food. How does anyone resist?

Our French mini break ended with one train cancellation (necessitating restorative beer in Frankfurt)

and discovering our bikes had been stolen from the Sneek Nord railway station when we arrived back at midnight.

Awwww.

Bummer.

Warm, friendly France

Ooh la la, Paris at last.

Passports, tick. Face masks, tick. International Corona Check QR code and the French Government required ‘Honorable Declaration of Being Covid Free Statement’ printout. Tick.

The QR code was checked only the once in four train trips. Gallic shrug.

No one asked us about being ‘Honorable’. Gallic shrug shrug.

We caught the 9.15am train from Amsterdam to Paris (all good except for the execrable liquid being sold as coffee on board) and arrived at the Gare du Nord at 12.30pm.

We were straight off the train, onto the forecourt of the station and out into the sun. No questions asked.

OMG Paris!

It’s sunny! It’s not Sneek!

Who do we run into on the corner of the street of our Airbnb but Maxine and Michael from Munich joining us for four days of fun and frivolity in the Cite of Lights.

We stayed in a great place in the 10th Arrondissement near the Canal st. Martin and Place Republique. There were three floors and a very nice staircase.

First night frolics.

For four fabulous days we walked the streets of Paris, past giant pigeons

Boulangeries,

through the Marais,

shared taste sensations with some of the locals eating their dinner (that’s warm, friendly France for you)

caught the Metro,

and visited the Luxembourg Gardens.

We stumbled across a very special cafe.

Of course we had to stop for coffee and pose for pics inside.

During our ‘Flâneuring’ we made sure to see the Grand Design construction site that is now the Notre Dame.

I don’t think it’ll be finished for Christmas.

Aah Paris, what is not to love?

Have Museum Card, will Museum.

September 2021

Groningen, fabulous university town (founded in 1640), and when we visited at the start of September it was ‘O’ week (Oriëntatie week) and stuffed full of excited students with nervous parents buying 2nd hand pushbikes and getting settled into student accommodation.

We visited Grid, the Graphic Museum in Groningen displaying no-longer-fit-for-purpose industrial printing presses and allied objects as well as book binding techniques.

The museum was very good despite the volunteer guide deciding Mark was the star pupil (in a class of two) when we participated in actual printmaking and could only hear what Mark uttered. We did not return for our prints the next day.

Groningen was memorable because we found a Vietnamese restaurant just like on Racecourse Rd and had a bowl of pho. Yummy.

The weather finally remembered it was supposed to be ‘summer’ and we spend 5 nights hanging off buoys in the Lauwersmeer northwest of Groningen.

Sunrises could be surprising. (Wait, that wasn’t there last night.)

And sunsets were beautiful but earlier every evening.

Then south to Leeuwarden where we are registered as homeless empowering Mark to forgo payment of the daily tourist tax required by the haven master.

Museum card in hand we visited the ‘Natuur Museum Fryslan’ for the wildlife

and the pharmaceuticals

Not for sale in the gift store.

Touristification not sated it was on to the ‘Keramik Museum Princesshof’, an 18th century building displaying an excellent collection of ceramics (surprise!).

M.C.Escher was born in this building.

Although the standout was a piece of Ru celadon from approx.1120 (and worth somewhere in the vicinity of 39 million euros)

my heart was stolen by the baby with the ‘tache in this family portrait.

Leeuwarden was having a Street Art Festival whilst we moored there and we were able to attend a performance by two Spanish circus performers. Some audience participation included.

And, whilst having dinner onboard our ‘New Best Friends’ boat, Norbert (German) and Miriam (Brazilian), the Leeuwarden chapter of Stand Up Paddle Boards gathered for their last meet for the season.

Onto the tiny town of Franeker. It was once a major university town until Napoleon arrived. Now its main attraction is the oldest working planetarium. It was built in 1741 by Eise Eisinge in the ceiling of his lounge/bedroom in his spare time when not being a wool comber. As you do.

Incredibly accurate to this day. Luckily no one wanted to renovate the ceiling in 300 years.

Detail of the working parts above the ceiling.

We moved onto Den Helder where the Navy welcomed our arrival with flares.

(Don’t go to too much trouble boys.)

In May when we were last here the Maritime Museum was closed but this time was different.

This time we could submerge the submarine

and press the red button of total destruction.

Submarines and Australians, what could possibly go wrong?

The Navy were keen to display a baby Covid.

We moved even further south to Alkmaar, the Netherlands cheese capital with a Cheese Museum,

and a Grote Kirk where you can drink a beer

and climb into the ‘attics’ all on the same day if you want.

Self portrait in candelabra.

Finally, in our September travels we visited the ‘Stedelijk Museum Alkmaar’.

Can’t get enough of these super groovy Dutch shoes from the Golden Age. Hand made. Square toes. Nice ribbon.

Obviously elastic wasn’t a thing then.

No social distancing in this picture.

And the Plans They are a Changing’

24th August

Finally the winds stop howling from the wrong direction for long enough for us to venture out from Borkum and sail/motor to the fishing village of Greetsiel on the German mainland.

Just call us Davies and Carruthers from ‘The Riddle of the Sands’ as we negotiated tides and narrow channels.

As the crow flies Greetsiel is only 12 nautical miles from Borkum but we had to follow carefully buoyed channels and cross two watersheds on the rising tide making the trip closer to 22 nautical miles.

On one watershed ‘withies’ or ‘booms’ (silver birch branches) are used to mark the channel. We touched bottom just the once.

It reminded us of sailing in Western Port Bay.

Greetsiel is a little fishing village but a super crowded tourist town. It was heaving with large (often very large) German tourists apparently drawn to it because it’s like a Dutch village as it has two windmills. Like we need more Dutchness when we’re in Germany.

We were stuck in Greetsiel for 6 days because of the strong winds from the wrong direction, ‘enjoying’ rain and low summer temperatures.

The sizeable fishing fleet in Greetsiel also chose to stay in harbour. They fish for shrimp.

This is the same quay where Michael York spotted the naughty conniving German/Hun Commander without his seaboots in ‘The Riddle of the Sands’.

Now it is covered in Strandkorbs.

And beer drinkers.

It was time to change our plans.

The winds, the tides and the weather all conspired to prevent us from heading east.

We can read the signs. If we have to struggle against the elements too hard to achieve one plan then we can rethink them and stay (alive) fair weather sailors. Whilst we waited in Greetsiel a yacht tried to sail east with three people on board. The yacht sank and only two people were rescued. Mmmmm. It makes you think.

It was late in the season, the weather was crap and likely to become crappier.

The Baltic would be there next year and we could start our voyage at the beginning of the season instead of the end.

Decision made: back to The Netherlands for us.

So follow those channels with the tide back to Delfzijl.

Whoops! Who put that there?

It’s, it’s a Borkum Riff…..

On 20th August we sailed with the tide out of Delfzijl (the arse end of The Netherlands) into Germany. We were entering the world of ‘The Riddle of the Sands’, a long held goal for Mark.

Heading down the Ems estuary with the sails up we were averaging 7 knots. The tide helped.

Arriving at the island of Borkum we promptly ran aground in the ’marina’ 10 meters from the pontoon. And stayed where we were for the next 4 hours.

Trying to pretend I’m happy with the muddy predicament we’re in.

Port Henry, the ‘marina’, has seen much better days. To call it shabby is being extremely generous. It dries out almost entirely at low tide and Le Flâneur exposed her bottom to a proper mud bath twice in the 20 hours we stayed.

Anyhoo, the next day we moved around the corner to the local boat club which has depth. Proper depth (3m) and went to explore Borkum.

German tourists at Borkum beach. The huts are called Strandkorbs, very popular and quite expensive.

After two days of sun the weather turned (a recurrent event, it is August, summer, hello? ) so when we went for a walk on a wet Sunday afternoon we encountered the Lightship Borkum Riff now reinvented as a working floating museum.

In our twisted tradition of changing song lyrics to suit our circumstances such as “Do you know the way to St.Tropez?’ Or Paul Kelly’s ‘Before Toulon’ we could not refrain from rearranging the words to Ballroom Blitz by The Sweet (oh, those 70’s Glam Rock page boy haircuts circa 6pm on a Sunday, thank you Countdown).

Are you ready Steve?

Andy?

Mick?

Alright fellas, let’s go…….!

And the man in the back said, "Everyone attack and it turned into a Borkum Riff, Borkum Riff.”

Mark pointing out the lifeboat on the 1911 ex-Lightship ‘Borkum Riff’ (Borkum Riff…)

We had the ship to ourselves along with the volunteer tour guide until he was reminded that his dinner was waiting on the table.

So much of the instrumentation reminded me of being in Dad’s shed, so many dials and knobs…..

He would have loved this telephonic device to call Mum from his shed.

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