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Life as we know it..

I’ve agonised about the way this post should go, not wanting to add to the never-ending torrent of comment, opinion and speculation that surrounds this threat we all face: Coronavirus. There, I’ve said it.

Not only that, but I set this blog up to be a feel-good place, where I could share some of the highlights of my chosen lifestyle, and hopefully brighten the reader’s day a little by sharing some of the delights (and occasional, amusing catastrophes) that go with living on the water. It’s somewhere I can showcase my snaps of stunning skyscapes…

and sunsets…

The countryside…

Even the city sometimes…

And, of course, the ever-present and wonderful wildlife that abounds on and around the waterways – all set to a soundtrack of birdsong.

But in truth, I can’t not mention it. It has had such a profound impact on life as most people know it. A scary new world where time stands still and hugs and socialising are a distant memory. A world where few cars clog up our roads and pollution is at an all-time low. A new quiet world. A world that is learning to think of and care for others and appreciate those who go the extra mile. BB salutes you. A world where one can take time to reflect and simply be.

Welcome to my world dear reader. Being an aspiring writer and living alone, my world is by nature a solitary one at times, where much of my socialising is done via the internet. So much of the current imposition doesn’t affect me greatly. I am fortunate to live in a super place among a fabulous community but feel for those who aren’t so lucky.

Right now, you find me at my outdoor work space…

Enjoying the sunshine…

Scary.

Where the cat and hose coil up…

And daisies decorate the grass.

I get regular visitors…

Thank goodness for this wonderful weather. It goes a long way to cheer us and keep away the gloom that could so easily creep into our heads.

We are all learning to adapt and embrace new challenges on a daily basis. Even my charmed lifestyle has been compromised, being deemed at high risk of serious illness or worse if I catch this thing, and am beginning a strict 12 week stay at home regime. But how hard can that be? My marvellous neighbours are rallying by fetching shopping and generally being there for me.

I, for one, hope this new-found community spirit will prevail and that we will all become stronger, wiser and more compassionate as a consequence. Hopefully society will adapt to the new normal too and that common sense will become a little more common, though I’m not holding my breath.

But for now, my friends, try to enjoy the moment. Be still and make the most of these times. Many will have learned new skills and knocked off a lot of those jobs that have forever been on the to do list, or simply enjoyed having time to relax and reflect.

I will miss the cruising though…

Stay safe xx

Tags: boating, isolation, photography, spring, sunset

Comments 4 Comments
Categories Canals, Countryside, Narrowboating, photography, Rivers, sundown, Uncategorized, writing

Boatlife..

29 Jan

Greetings on this joyful January day.

You might be wondering how I am getting on in my new home on the River Lark where I have a super and secluded home mooring…

So I thought I’d tell you a story – bit of a day in the life type of thing.

Every now and again, I do a physical Tesco shop, which serves to remind me why I normally do a click and collect and end up vowing never again! Today was one of those days; I was feeling quite spritely and it was bright and sunny when I set off to Newmarket. But when it came to loading up the car (with 50% more stuff than when I shop online) it was bucketing down. No covered area like there is at the click and collect. I got wet.

Lucky for me, it had stopped by the time I got home to do the long trek to the boat, and for long enough for me to get the coal in. Just. I’ve a system now for transporting stuff from car to boat, boat to car and rubbish to the bins, having bought a cheapo plastic “rollacart”… which miraculously can be hauled over the bridge with contents inside. My more beefy garden trolley, more suited to grass and mud… that I’ve left the other side is then filled and dragged to Hobo, complete with lightweight cart. Seems to work well.

There is a long way round, which avoids the bridge, taking you through the lodges and reed beds, over which starlings do that fabulous murmuration thing. When I witness this for myself, I will share it with you here. When it’s not boggy, one of the chaps here runs a buggy (sort of golf cart on steroids) round this way, so heavy stuff like coal and gas can be more easily delivered to your boat. Brilliant. Or, the local coal merchant will deliver to the nearby lock and load the bags onto the roof of your boat, but also only when conditions favourable.

As for physical shopping, despite spending more and taking more time and effort, it does give the opportunity to browse the clothing and electrical sections, as well as other delights on offer. F’rinstance, my dietician has urged me to buy those individual dessert pots in order to gain weight – I’m struggling with this due to an auto-immune condition I have, which, after a lifetime of battling weight gain, I am now a real skinny Minnie and borderline mal-nourished. Bizarre.

They do one called little pots of joy, which is crème egg that you can eat with a spoon and not get covered in chocolate. It’s good but not even close to the ice cream version. So Hobo’s fridge is well-stocked with that one, as well as various mousses and trifles! If I could get to my scales, I’m sure I will have gained more weight. In fact, I’ve been advised to eat all sorts of rubbish that I’ve previously avoided like the plague and give anything vaguely healthy the big swerve. Bit of a win-win really.

So why can’t I get to my scales? Well, Hobo went wonky and, one morning as I got out of bed, found the floor was wet. Water underneath in the bilge. A lot of it. Bugger. Apart from wet feet, I struggled to walk with the boat at such an angle and kept bumping into the walls. And that’s before I had a drink!

I put out the distress call, which my old mate Steve swiftly answered. We checked the usual suspects – stern gland and weed hatch, both ok. He soon had the boat level again (stuck on a ledge after water levels had dropped) and re-tied with the back end further out to avoid getting hung up again. Looks untidy but she is floating free, which is preferable to looking like I know how to moor a boat properly, but leaning over.

Not sure where the water came from but Steve thinks it’s rain water – we have had a lot and my back doors are anything but watertight. I’ll have her hauled out for blacking come Spring so can get the hull checked at the same time, though fairly sure that’s not the problem.

Anyway, Steve’s pump chucked out most of the water, leaving me to aqua-vac daily as the water slowly trickles to the back – takes a week or so to get it all. Then it’s a case of stuffing newspaper into the inspection hatch (which was cut into the bottom of my wardrobe when I inadvertently filled the bilge by overflowing the water tank – a breather tube issue) to absorb any further moisture. As it’s raining again I’ll soon see if any more gets in.

All of this meant I had to empty the floor of said wardrobe and engine room (a useful space for storage when not cruising), deposit stuff in the bedroom and bathroom – hence blocking the way to my scales, plus all sorts of other items I need to access daily). Not to mention making moving around somewhat tricky and upsetting any order I normally enjoy. Feng shui is all to pot!

Don’t know about you but, the minute I let the tiniest bit of disorder into my world, everything deteriorates into chaos, quick quick. Obviously, this is a whole lot more noticeable, with space at such a premium, in a 47×7 foot-ish area. It’s not that I’m a neat freak or anything, but it’s purely practical to be tidy, unless you enjoy falling over things/moving half of your possessions to get to the other half.

But that’s boatlife and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

In other news: my trusty stove is burning 24/7, keeping me snug and warm and my new neighbours are great. Not that I’ve met all of them yet, but I suspect my semi-hibernation has a lot to do with that. Looking forward to spring when, no doubt, we’ll all be outdoors a lot more, making us more visible and sociable. Seems like a great community.

Looking a little spring-like on board…

The hyacinths fill the boat with a delightful sweet scent.

I’m gradually finding my way around, now not totally reliant on Google maps and confident to navigate my own way to at least a couple of destinations. Hobo is moored in Cambridgeshire, across the river is Suffolk and Norfolk is fairly close too. There’s some lovely towns nearby: Ely, Cambridge, Newmarket, Downham Market, King’s Lynn, Bury St. Edmunds to name but a few. Still much exploring to be done. I imagine there’s some good walking hereabouts too – I’ll let you know come the spring and warmer weather.

I have a postbox…And a birdbox…And a butcher within walking distance where all produce is reared right here on the farm. Adjacent is a stall where fresh, local veg is available for sale, by way of an honesty box.

The marina here is on an island where Muntjac roam and swans, ducks and geese abound. There’s nothing quite like being aboard listening to swans smack along their river runway in order to take off , hear the geese chattering or the mad quacking of the duck barmy army.

I’m impressed with the manager here and have found her most helpful and accommodating. So thank you for that, much appreciated.

RAF Mildenhall is close and, as a bit of a plane spotter, is home to some interesting aircraft, such as the Osprey…

Google image

Also big bombers, fighter jets and so on. So, unlike being under Stansted’s flightpath (as I was before) at least there’s something good to look at. And it’s nowhere near as busy; little night or weekend flying.

Foxy has settled really well and loves his new home. He’s a true boatcat, happy to walk the gunwales…And plank…

Though this now superseded by something safer, sturdier and more fitting…Courtesy of the on site maintenance man. Well pleased with this and sure it’s saved me a dunking.

Foxy helps me get the coal in, fill up the water tank and other boatie chores, as well as charging around, jumping on the roof, climbing trees…

And decimating the local vermin population…

He’s currently taking an interest in what I’m up to right now…Oh, and he’s been in the river a couple of times already…

He’s also starting his own blog…

boatcat.blog.

As soon as he can get his head around setting it up, the cat lovers among you will be able to see boatlife from his point of view…

I’m guessing that will be riveting.

Tags: boating, cats, feng shui, photography

Comments 6 Comments
Categories Narrowboating, photography, Rivers, Uncategorized

Moving on…

18 Sep

Comes a time when the right thing to do is to move on. And that’s where I found myself earlier this year. Not only had I been at my mooring for eight years – a long, long time for a dedicated liveaboard water gypsy – but I felt I needed a physical move to take me to a better place.

In April, I was at rock bottom. I don’t want to get into all that here, but suffice to say that four months of hospital/rehab/care home all took their toll. I had a lot of time to think during this period and set the wheels in motion to find a new home for Hobo, Foxy and me.

I’ve always thought I’d return to the Great Ouse system at some point. I love the Fens, the big skies, big rivers and good people. Some years back, I’d visited a friend at a super marina on the River Lark where he had a wonderful river mooring. This came to mind again now and I knew that this was where I wanted to be.

You got to get lucky sometimes, and a quick phone call confirmed a similar spot was available. And, by all accounts, this is rare. People tend to stay put and spare berths are like rocking horse shit.

After a visit to confirm all was as I remembered, it was affordable for me, and agreement from the management to take me on, I verbally agreed the terms and had transferred the required deposit by the end of the day.

Now I had something to plan for and look forward to. But could I really make this happen? Whilst my health has improved considerably, I’m still not 100% nor ever so strong, and no way could I take on this cruise by myself. I needed someone to take over when I was flagging, possibly doing the bulk of the driving and certainly working the locks.

There really was only one candidate of course – John. I can count the people who I’d trust to skipper Hobo on the fingers of one thumb. Would he be willing/able?

I’m delighted to say he was.

So, on the late August bank holiday weekend, we embarked on this cruise of 233 miles, 2 furlongs and 170 locks. Some of which we shared with the locals…Here is how they work. In you go…

Close the gates, wind the paddles and fill/empty…And up comes Hobo…Lock keepers take pride in their gardens…

But out on the river it’s also delightful…

With foraging aplenty.

There was the odd swing bridge…And tunnel…And yes, there really is light at the end.

Locks on the Nene and Ouse have guillotine gates, usually electrified but some…Still aren’t, meaning that wheel has to be turned around and around and around forever, to raise or lower the gate. And that’s why I drive the boat!

Our route took us down the rivers Stort and Lea, along the Hertford Union and Regents Canal through London and up the Grand Union to the Northampton arm. Then it’s on to the River Nene, through the Middle Levels, the tidal crossing from Salter’s Lode to Denver Sluice, onto the Great Ouse and finally the Lark.

Hobo loves the big rivers… As do we. You can almost feel her joy at being in deep water…Not to say she didn’t perform well when ditch crawling…She most certainly did – but couldn’t really get up a head of steam, so progress feels slow.

But clearly it wasn’t. It took us just twelve days, which is no mean feat. Dawn to dusk cruising largely, often not mooring up till last light… Hobo’s engine never missed a beat… With no mechanical issues/stoppages/disasters. Extraordinary really, as she doesn’t get a lot of attention – apart from when John is around. He checks the levels and tightens/dresses the belts as necessary, as well as all the other tasks like greasing etc. One day I’ll have her shone up/painted to look like those engines that belong to the real enthusiasts.

We managed 27 locks in one day! Luckily, we often managed to lock through with another boat… Really lightens the load – me on the tiller holding her in the lock, while John and at least one other set of muscles set to; winding the paddles and pushing the balance beams. It’s also a great opportunity for the drivers to have a natter – I learned of a choice mooring on the Nene this way, one we’d never have found. It was up a little cut, which opened into a basin and (you guessed it) was next to a pub.

We fed the swans there…John and I both hugely enjoyed the journey. As each day passed, I was improving physically and emotionally as I mentally moved on from the bad place I was in during the first half of the year. The cruise itself was doing me good.

We did take a break for a couple of days, conveniently moored at the Ship Inn on Brandon Creek… John had managed to hurt his back and needed to rest it. Ironically, it was doing a good deed by helping out a 70 footer when its inexperienced crew got themselves into a bit of a pickle.

Some random pics along the way.

Little Venice I think…Horrors of duckweed on the London canals…Looks so walkable on.

Moored on a towpath somewhere…Hobo nose in as we manoeuvre her to tie to that tree for a brief stop on the Nene…The beautiful church at Fotheringhay…Where we moored for the night and met a dear friend for a pie and a pint at the village pub. Has to be done.

Come Tuesday, we pushed on, making it to my new home a little before sunset…So, here we are in situ…

Where Foxy walked the plank…The views are to die for…How’s that..!

My garden is private, perfect and full of potential…Though it needs a little work – I’ve much I want to do here but all in good time. Boarding by plank isn’t ideal but there’s a maintenance man here, who I’m told will build me a platform/small jetty.

I’m full of ideas and inspiration and can see how I want it in my mind’s eye. I’ll update you as it all comes together. But it already feels like home (Foxy thinks so too) and I shall enjoy adding those little touches that will make it truly mine.

First step is to collect all my shoreside paraphernalia from the old mooring. My brother, who is now a lot closer geographically, plus his mate with a van, helped me with this on Monday.

I love new beginnings. And I love my new home.

Cruising with a cat certainly added another dimension, Foxy delighting in his new-found boat cat status…Worrying us at times with his innate curiosity and exploring spirit, but always entertaining and returning to his boat home.

But I think that’s another post…

PS: I didn’t get to say goodbye to all my old friends and neighbours, so if you’re among those I missed…goodbye and good luck!

Also huge thanks to those who were there for me during my darkest hours this year. It meant a lot xx

Tags: Cruising, Grand Union, Great Ouse, Lark, Lea, London canals, Nene, Stort

Comments 8 Comments
Categories Canals, Narrowboating, photography, Rivers, Uncategorized

So long South Africa..

1 Feb

For now.

My three month stay is now a distant – yet not dim – memory…

Glorious sunsets over the estuary

Just as well because I need all the help I can get to blot out my return to the UK. I will elaborate in due course.

In case you were thinking it was all beer and skittles, and that I was having a wonderful time…

The wild fires came way too close.

The aftermath…

And I was bitten…

Again. I always react badly.

The Mighty Uno showered me with rust…

As we bumped up a mountain pass. It was in my hair too but the photographer saw fit to exclude this. I was not amused.

I should have known that something was amiss when I attempted to clear security at Cape Town airport. That moment we all dread when they take just a little too long in their scrutiny of your passport, escort you to a side room and then make you wait. And wait.

Turns out, in their estimation, I had overstayed by one day. This would result in a punishment of not being allowed to return for a year. And, upsettingly, declared an ‘undesirable person’. I may just frame the paperwork that indicates this…

Form filling followed and I was sent on my way – reeling a little.

To me, the period between 17th October and 16th January represents three months. But, if you take a month as 31 days and times by three it makes 93 days. Count on your fingers from 17/10 to 16/01, it is 94 days, so technically one day over what is permitted. Seems harsh to me.

They gave me ten days to appeal, which I did – humbly and apologetically. Now I wait for the verdict.

Then there’s the weather. It’s bloody cold…

In case you hadn’t noticed. Bad timing on my part but unavoidable.

Then there’s the hairbrush I lost on the plane – the one I bought to replace the one that I lost on the flight out. I’m really not suited to travel economy (who the hell is?) and find it impossible to keep myself and my belongings together.

My friend and neighbour, who kindly collected me from the airport, had to physically put me into his van. My ankles were swollen and my legs were constantly cramping, finally seizing up altogether.

He had lit the stove on Hobo though, so at least the boat was warm, allowing me some degree of comfort. Or, more accurately, I could collapse into the chair by the fire and begin my recovery, not needing to move further than the kettle, the loo, the drinks cupboard and eventually bed.

It takes a day or two for the boat to properly warm up, but an absolute eternity when the trusty Squirrel stove is, for some reason, not performing. It wasn’t. Struggling to draw, smoky and sluggish. Can only mean one thing: chimney needs sweeping, which means I have to let the fire go out.

Fortunately, this was before the current cold snap. Could have been so much worse.

I imposed on the good nature of another lovely neighbour to scrape the flue. Much easier for him to jump on the roof and wield the heavy metal tool designed to do this job, given that I was still in a state somewhere between semi-paralysis and total collapso.

Shame I forgot to close the door of the stove though, resulting in every surface inside my home being coated with filthy black soot. Now I have to clean. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the fire box still wasn’t performing. We wrestle with the baffle plate, which did seem to improve things. A bit.

Several not-quite-warm-enough days later, I discover that the blanking plate had dropped off the back of the stove…

The real culprit.

There was now a hole in the stove, possibly releasing potentially fatal carbon monoxide fumes! I had no choice but to let it go out again, in the hope I wouldn’t wake up dead the following morning (even cooling embers will emit CO gas).

Again, my neighbours rallied and helped me out with an interim heat source…

Natty eh?

Clearly I survived, and was soon off in search of help in the form of an effective temporary fix, which was successful and still holding. Thank goodness. I will of course order a new one.

While all this was going on, my car spectacularly failed the MOT and some ******* had clouted one of the door mirrors and left it dangling.

Choose your favourite expletive here. I used several.

Need some cute animal pics..?

Thought so.

Fast forward to now and all is well once more. Back to tropical temperature, warm and cosy. Car back on the road and I am returned to what passes as normal for me body-wise. Unpacking done, laundry sorted (not done) and order – more or less – restored.

Spot the driver…

Spooky.

I’ll end the SA saga here for now, except for the occasional pics that pitch up periodically from our own correspondent.

My posts will be returning to more boatie things for a while and the next one will be on our favourite topic: toilets.

I have ordered a new one…

It’s a composter!

No delivery date as yet but hope it’s soon. Can’t wait to tell you all about it.

One more thing… I want a boat cat. Anyone know of one that needs a lovely warm, cosy home/loving owner?

Tags: boating, cats, composting toilets, South Africa, sunset, travel

Comments 4 Comments
Categories Canals, Narrowboating, photography, Rivers, south africa, travel, Uncategorized

Game on…

19 Dec

When in the land of the big five, one has to go see what all the fuss is about. So last Thursday saw us here…

Where we saw these…

And lots of these…

The most photogenic animal on the planet.

We’d heard tales that the buffalo…

Could be a little grumpy, so I didn’t linger. The rules say that you shouldn’t park next to the animals, but the car in front had and was blocking my escape route, so I prepared to do some high speed reversing if I had to.

I’m driving us round in Terry’s little car, so apologies if the photography is a bit iffy. Nothing at all whatsoever anything to do with being scared witless by the close proximity of Big Scary Wild Animals.

Entering the cheetah enclosure, with proper game fencing and double gates that you enter like an airlock, is somewhat fear-provoking but, naturally, they saw us coming and hid. We speculated that they were all safely tucked away behind the greenery having a laugh at our expense. Bit like the Kit-Kat advert with the pandas.

But that’s not to say we didn’t see cheetahs…

We did.

They call these ones tame – though I have my doubts about any wild animals ever being properly tame – and this is feeding time. Conveniently below the café area, where it was our feeding time too.

First class coffee and souvenirs on sale…

BB can never resist a fridge magnet, and this one is so South African. Except there’s too few passengers – there would normally be at least another couple of dozen crammed in.

I have, on a previous visit to SA, stroked so-called tame cheetahs. They were behind a wire fence and we were instructed to present a fist, rather than an open hand, through this in order to pet them. They didn’t seem too bothered and apparently used to human contact as they were used in the film industry. Anyway, I still have both hands, thumbs and all my fingers.

We saw a Mongoose, Cape Hare, Warthog, Springbok, Bontebok, Impala, Water Buck and a Bushpig with babies. No Rhino, Porcupine or Ostrich though. They’ve recently introduced Lions, which we didn’t see either.

But it’s your luck on the day and we had a lovely time there.

There were other diversions, like this walkway through the treetops…

But my companion wimped out. Being 92 years young is no excuse Terry.

The drive there and back wasn’t a long one, but interesting. We passed through some very affluent areas. Such disparity here – huge wealth and abject poverty existing side by side. I suppose that isn’t peculiar to Africa though, but rife the world over.

On a recent shopping trip, I am once again transported back to the 60’s…

Popular brands I remember my mum using.

And if you didn’t fancy these…

Then I guess these are OK…

It says so on the tin so it must be true.

But the prize for best product names this week goes to…

No mistaking what these are for!

But the clear winner (see what I did there?) in the ingenuity stakes, without a doubt, goes to…

Glad wrap – aka cling film.

Not only does it have a roll almost empty marker, it is perforated. How useful is that? Never seen this in the UK – or anywhere else for that matter. I need this in my life.

Meanwhile, in the garden…

Frangipani putting on a lovely show.

And…

A Sunflower – many more in bud – seed scattered by the John.

You’ve heard of Dances with Wolves…

Well this is Swims with Dogs.

The dog lady at the dam up behind John’s place.

Could have done with some of this myself today: 30c in the shade, little or no wind.

Scorchio.

Not gloating…

Tags: big game, nature, South Africa

Comments 5 Comments
Categories photography, south africa, travel, Uncategorized

Moving on…

30 Nov

And we are off. Port Elizabeth, here we come..!

Pretty much a whole day’s driving at 411 miles – or 662 klicks as they say in South Africa – a good 7/8 hours on the road. But actually quite pleasant when there’s two of you to share the driving.

The scenery is stunning…

Along the garden route. Freeway all the way.

But it’s even more interesting when this is one’s mode of transport…

Yep, it’s a FIAT. And we all know what that stands for.

OK – Fix It Again Tomorrow, for those of you on another planet.

John bought this from a friend, who didn’t want to sell it to him – because he was a friend. That should tell you something. Undeterred, John resurrected it from the dead and has been carefully nurturing it ever since, diligently checking over and replacing parts as and when.

He calls it the Mighty UNO. It’s way old and one has to really know how to drive to make it go, unlike the cars of today that practically drive themselves. (Some of course actually do.) It has a manual choke and a gearbox of the stick-in-a-bucket variety. Fortunately, I was brought up on this type of vehicle, back in the day, and actually enjoyed driving it. Just like old times..!

Anyway, John will offload me at his dad’s house in PE…

Where I shall be staying until the new year. John, on the other hand, beetles back to continue working on his own place after a couple of days respite.

To the front is the Swartkops river estuary…

Glorious by day and night.

Lots of wildlife…

A Goliath heron.

A postcard depicting the bay here…

Bluewater Bay. The sailboat belonged to Terry – might well have been him sailing it.

Some local fishermen trespassing on the private jetty/parking…

Not knowing they are on candid camera…

Annoying the hell out of Terry.

Sorry, I missed a trick there. Top left shows a tray for birdseed, which attracts loads of our feathered friends and great to watch from the comfort of your armchair. Trust me to snap the tele when the tray is empty – of seed and birds!

And there’s a huge nature reserve at the back. I’ve never been here to see the aloes in bloom but am told they are quite a sight. Oh, and a beach just around the corner that I still haven’t been to – Indian ocean so the sea should be warm. Soon, soon.

So why am I here? Well it’s one of those win-win situations:

John’s father, Terry, is a spritely 92 year old who lives here alone. He is razor sharp in the brain department but, since hip replacement surgery following a fall that also mangled his shoulder, and recent trauma to his leg, he needs a little help with a few things: socks and shoes, monitoring blood pressure and medication, help with phone calls – he’s very deaf (a trait the John has inherited, though I think his is more selective). All pretty minor stuff really.

He can still get up and down the 39 steps that lead to the street…

With support – mostly moral. Can’t see them all here, but you get the picture.

There’s tortoises hiding in there too…

Which dement the dog.

Terry makes his own bread (delicious) and here he is…

Boxing up meals, cooked earlier, ready for the freezer. I should really take a leaf out of his book.

He has a maid/carer – Evelyn – who comes in three times a week, which is great ’cause on her days I also get served breakfast, elevensies and lunch; my bed made and washing done. I could get used to this.

There’s also a garden boy – Peter – who pitches up on Sundays to keep everything neat and tidy…

This pic shows a fully equipped workshop and above, Terry’s late wife’s art studio that is accessed through the white gate seen in the other pics…up yet more steps.

She was a very talented lady who produced some lovely work…

Beautifully African and atmospheric. I like.

And there’s a driver – Carl – a phone call away.

Plus plenty of friends; some already having paid us a visit – curious to meet ‘the barge lady’. Hope I didn’t disappoint.

He no longer drives, because of the shoulder, so some chauffeuring is required. For instance, we went to the Armistice service at a local chapel…

Looking smart complete with medals.

We go to his weekly Pilates session with the lovely Maria…

Which he has been doing for the last twelve years – he started at age 80. I think it’s what keeps him so fit and enabled him to recover so well from surgery.

I am also having sessions now in the hope it will do similar for me…some hope! But Terry is quite tickled that I’m joining in.

We took the dog to be groomed…

Tiger – before and after.

And to the vet. But that’s a whole other story!

There’s also shopping and general day to day stuff. But I see my role more as that of companion, someone to chat to/watch tele/share jokes/stories with.

He has some jolly good stories too, being RAF and widely travelled. He’s lived in some exotic locations, including Malaysia (where John was born) and Libya (where John did some schooling). And he’s done some amazing road trips. I am finding it all fascinating. And, despite moving out here in the 60’s, he stills sounds like the Londoner he is. No trace of a SA accent.

Turns out, we rub along quite nicely and both enjoy a gin and tonic/glass of wine as well.

So, apart from a drinking partner, what do I get out of this little arrangement?

For starters, there’s free lodgings, which are very comfortable, and where I have been allocated the master bedroom. This comes complete with en-suite (resplendent in 1960/70s avocado), adjacent office and private lounge with views to die for…

I also get the run of the rest of the house and garden and the use of a car…

The Conquest: probably even more ancient than the Uno but meticulously maintained and still going strong – well, it is a Toyota! Even if it does only have four gears.

Quite a popular model here…

Though the later models are called Tazz.

And for my old buddies from Daewoo days…

There’s a fair smattering of these about – old and new.

It is of course summer here with temperatures in the mid to high twenties at the mo…

In the shade

Probably going higher in December and January. And if I can miss much of the British winter, that alone is pretty much back of the net for me.

But there’s another thing. I have the opportunity to spend time turning an idea for a novel into the first draft of a book. So I have work to do. That’s the plan anyway. Starts with a vengeance this week. Really.

Crikey…it’s Thursday already! And I’ve been here a whole month.

To date, I have become a little embroiled in the daily life and ways of South Africa, which is largely the same…only different.

This is a yield sign…

A stop street…

And they call these robots…

Their cell phone towers get disguised…

This one masquerading as a lighthouse. I’ve seen ones up country done up like fir trees. Gets my vote.

The ‘lighthouse’, and sea beyond, is the view from the local shopping centre where you find these…

They are called trolley porters (says so on the back of his overall, but BB not quite getting that in shot) and are most helpful. When they’ve loaded you up, they take away the trolley too. No coins in the slot malarkey here..!

I’ve not yet managed to master this method of transporting goods…

A fine example of head carrying.

This is still called a bridge…

I just like it.

And it seems their policeman also take naps in the road…

And I’ve already said about the brand names…

A couple more I spotted.

Oh, and the laid back cat at the hardware store…

I could go on (and on and on…) but won’t. Expect I’ll be back before too long with loads more to tell you though.

But I must get busy with that book…

BFN xx

Tags: port elizabeth, South Africa

Comments 6 Comments
Categories photography, Rivers, south africa, travel, Uncategorized, writing

Wait and See..

5 Sep

A much used and predictable response to numerous questions posed to parents by many an impatient child I suspect…

Google image

It certainly featured highly in my youth.

Now I’m a grown up – allegedly – I realise why straight answers are so infuriatingly elusive. I simply do not know what will happen in the future. No-one does.

Whilst we may sometimes have a jolly good idea/strong gut feeling of the outcome of those what if/when/how/who posers, as adults now realise that nothing is set in stone. No-one knows when the fickle finger of fate will come into play and put the kibosh on all those well-crafted plans. Happens all the time.

But that’s not to say we shouldn’t make plans. I do it all the time. Sometimes in order to realise a goal, find a direction or purpose or, as often as not, out of necessity.

I’ll give you a for instance.

As a liveaboard boater, with winter looming large, I have to plan for the worst. This entails ensuring my cosy cocoon stays so…

Meaning I need to prepare my metal tube for whatever the elements may throw her way. Sealing areas that could spring a leak…

And checking my trusty multi-fuel stove over and repairing/replacing/refurbing as necessary being high on the to-do list.

Before…

Chimney swept.

After…

Chilly morning/evening…

Never. Not on my watch.

Estimating how much fuel to order to see me through the dark, dank days is really just a guess, albeit after 12 years of the lifestyle, a slightly educated one. But, given that coal bought at the summer price (delivery before October) is £2 per 25kg cheaper, I simply can’t afford to wait and see. It’s a no-brainer.

This time last year I ordered 50 bags – a huge outlay – but, as last winter went on forever and ever, there remains only five or six bags left over. It’s not all about the saving made though. If we have a lot of rain (more than likely), the approach to my boat will without a doubt be soggy and waterlogged, meaning my marvellous coalman will be unable to deliver right to my boat. I’ve done my share of hauling coal in the cold and wet and, trust me, it’s not happening again. Ever.

I don’t do cold, so have placed the same order this year. Sorted. Well not quite…

Turns out I have the opportunity to spend three months this winter in South Africa, where it will be summer…

After careful consideration – yeah right – I have decided to fly south. Yay! Back of the net! But what about all that coal?

Already taken care of my friends: 20 bags to one neighbour and 10 to another, leaving me enough to deal with any unseasonal coldness before or after my trip. Simple.

It’s a well known fact that I’m a little prone to over-thinking. But I’m learning that there really is no point. We cannot predict what will happen along this rocky road/choppy water we travel and most things can be undone/re-hashed or suitably circumvented with a handy plan B.

As plan B’s go, this one is probably one of the better prospects…

This trip will take on quite a different meaning and shape to previous travels, but I’ll get into that another time.

Suffice to say, it could be useful and helpful to others and, if I get my arse in gear, productive and possibly profitable for me.

But who knows how it will all pan out? What will unfold? Who knows?

We will just have to wait and see…

Tags: boating, photography, South Africa, travel

Comments Leave a Comment
Categories photography, travel

Out of Africa..

3 Aug

Since we are having such a wonderful summer, I thought I’d write a bit about South Africa where it’s winter.

Not that the winters there are anything like ours. It’s often warm and sunny during the day though chilly at night. There may be rain – with luck – which is always needed desperately. And, of course, the days are much shorter.

That said…

They have had snow in the Karoo!

Blooming now…

Jade plant – AKA money plant.

Wish we had colour like that during our winter!

Remember this..?

Claw marks of a leopard.

Then came the footprints…

So John’s youngest put out bait, by way of a dead sheep, and set up a camera.

And…

The beastie itself. What a gorgeous creature!

In other wildlife…

Aw!

And if you zoom right in on the second pic…

You’ll see this little sparrow loves to check himself out in the mirror. Might be a bit blurry.

Funny. John said he’d spend hours at it!

Kingfishers – African style. Again, you’ll need to big it up.

But it wouldn’t be Africa…

Without a spider.

One of the views from John’s place…

And another…

After the rain.

And the lower slope….

Of Table Mountain.

These giant cones…

Have their uses…

Nature’s fire lighters.

Looking cosy.

And finally…

Seen in South Africa but true the world over.

Tags: South Africa, wildlfie, winter

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Categories photography, Rivers, south africa, Uncategorized

All Good Things..

25 May

Seven weeks of living out in the watery wilderness has come to an end…

We’ve chugged up and down this lovely little river, moored at various middle of nowhere locations, walked the towpath and discovered the footpaths through the adjacent park and got to know the regular dog walkers and runners.

We’ve heard and seen all sorts of wildlife, some – scarily – on board…

The web of a funnel web spider in Hobo’s engine room!

A more conventional outdoor web…

A toad on the towpath…

Mother and chicks…

Cows…

All of these will benefit from zooming in.

There was a snake on the towpath on one of my walks but it was far faster than me, slithering into the safety of the long grass before I could even think about grabbing the camera.

No amount of zooming will help here. Another of many of my marvellous pics that got away.

John calls this Queen Anne’s lace…

But has always been keck to me.

It (and the nettles) has grown madly while we’ve been out. Hobo was visible from way back at one spot but completely hidden a few weeks later – at first scaring the hell out of me, thinking she’d gone on without me!

We’ve even carried out some exterior boat maintenance.

Before…

After…

It’s far from finished but I’m happy with the story so far. Making a start, as always, was the hardest part. The rest I can do in bite-size pieces – as and when – starting with the hand rails I think.

Now I’m all for a bit of serendipity and synchronicity, and my next little tale is certainly a bit of both. John got chatting to a dog walker one day who introduced herself as a cat magnet. Knowing I was hankering after a feline friend, he called me to come talk to her. She’s involved with re-homing rescue dogs and cats and said she’d keep me in mind.

That very evening we had a visitor…

She was very hungry and, after wolfing down a can of tuna, became very affectionate and soon made herself at home…

Do click on any image to big it up.

She helped me with the writing…

Making the bed…

A bit twitchy at times…

But mostly quite content…

She slept at the bottom of the bed every night, waking me by pummelling my stomach and head-butting me at an ungodly hour each morning to be let out.

She spent the day playing in the woods…

Returning intermittently to feed – and I think to check we were still there. We speculated as to where she’d come from. She seemed very au fait with boat life – had she jumped ship? But surely her human would be looking for her – but no evidence of this: lost kitty posters, concerned person calling her name. Nothing.

I messaged the “cat magnet” but it was not her doing. A puzzle.

And a dilemma. It seemed wrong to leave her when we left and wrong to take her with us. Such a gorgeous creature…

The cat – just in case you were wondering!

As ever, doing nothing proved to be the best plan. One day, a chappie pitched up looking for her. He’d been moored nearby and noticed she was missing when he’d moved his boat further downstream. We told him we’d met her and said she’d be in the woods so he called her but to no avail.

I then called out “come on then”, she appeared from nowhere, avoided her human and jumped aboard Hobo! It was like she had made a choice. Well they do say cats choose their owners. Of course, I had to let her go. It was heart-breaking!

But that’s not the end to this story. John walked down the towpath that night and saw her on the roof of “her” boat…

It wasn’t until he arrived back at Hobo that we realised she had followed him. It was quite a way and in the dark. Unbelievable!

Kitty-cat moved in with us again. Double dilemma – now that we knew where she belonged. Again, any decisions were taken out of our hands, she was collected once more and her boat moved further away. I am resigned to never seeing her again but live in hope that the “cat magnet” will come up trumps and find me one of my own. Till then though, I miss her. Every day.

And so, all good things have come to an end. John’s gone, cat’s gone, I am back on my mooring and looking forward to the next time. Maybe in the autumn.

But I have lovely memories of a lovely time, lovely little trip, lovely company and lots of lovely photos.

And a cupboardful of lovely cat food.

Tags: boating, canals, cats, nature, outdoors, rivers

Comments 2 Comments
Categories Canals, Countryside, Narrowboating, photography, Rivers, Uncategorized

The Daily Grind..

24 Apr

The long overdue maintenance begins…

It’s horrifying to see how much rust is bubbling under the paintwork so just as well we’ve made a start.

We’ve established a system. I go first with the chisel and expose the problem areas, then John follows up with the noisy machinery and grinds it out. This is followed by painting on a rust treatment, which is wiped off the following day.

It was great when we started and can’t think of a better place to be to do this job. But now looks cold and mis for the foreseeable. Typical.

I’ve now sourced the cream topcoat, so all we need now is the weather to behave again.

We chug up and down in the meantime; for fun, a break or to load fresh supplies and unload rubbish/waste.

Harlow Mill is a good spot…

With a water point too, which is handy.

There’s also a useful little road that gets the car right next to the boat…

Perfect.

But the main road is too close so we choose not to stay here. Easy peasy – swing her round and back upstream to somewhere quieter…

That’s more like it.

You’ll notice the chimney is smoking. Thought we’d moved into warmer times but, sadly, fire-free days didn’t last long. One day to be precise!

Still, at least the towpath has dried up nicely now – I’ve even shed the boots.

One woman and her dog…

There’s also a lovely lady who comes by picking up litter. Good job that woman.

Also plenty of joggers/walkers and a cyclist or two. A few boats come by – but not many.

Sunrise…

Sunset…

It’s a hard life.

We nipped back upstream yesterday evening, through the lock to where we could turn her – I did a splendid job if I say so myself.

Back into the lock, which is the ideal place (close to where our cars are parked) to load new gas cylinder and offload a full carzy, which I shall drive to where my home mooring is and empty it in the appropriate place -just in case you thought it went in the river or down a lucky rabbit hole…

I wouldn’t!

Very useful operation and a lovely little jaunt.

Bit short on pics this week but we have been busy. Hope to soon be able to update you with some impressive paint job type shots before too long. Will of course depend on the weather.

But here’s three John took early one morning for me to stitch together…

Back soon.

Tags: boating

Comments 2 Comments
Categories Countryside, Narrowboating, photography, Rivers, sundown, Uncategorized

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Boatbird

Life as we know it..

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Moving on…

So long South Africa..

Game on…

Moving on…

Wait and See..

Out of Africa..

All Good Things..

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