Friday, May 15, 2009
STILL NO PIX
Went to La Rochelle to book rail tickets to get back to London by TGV. They charge a whacking 250 Euros, so have settled for RyanAir to Stansted at around 85 Euros. This is mad! I am disappointed but I just can’t justify the cost against our dwindling Euro budget. And so, children, the planet Gaia was destroyed.
Then a tour of the chandleries to replace flares. The old flares are fine, but past the sell-by. And if you need them (and they are called distress flares) you do need them to work. There was a bad story about a chap who blew a hole in himself - be sure to point them the right way!
Followed by an afternoon at the Internet coalface - how can it take hours to book a flight? Gave up on National Express after being ejected from the card security system. Closely followed by a call from Egg telling me that I hadn’t got through their security. They have been nice enough to let me back into the system, but I’m going to buy my bus ticket at the airport - can’t go through all that again - at least not today.
It’s been too windy to work on the boat much today, anyway. Now I have done all the La Rochelle biz I can get to it tomorrow. Time’s a passing! Showers forecast for the next couple of days so will try to slap on the anti-fouling between them. Heavy showers at night, and the jolly halyards slap around inside the mast. (If you’d like to experience this noise for yourselves, you could try whacking a tightly wound wet towel on a radiator.)
Last bit of biz in La R is to discover why SFR mobile ain’t working. Something about needing a new SIM. Off to Place Verdun.
TTFN
Friday, 15 May 2009
LA ROCHELLE
Friday, May 15, 2009
STILL NO PIX
Went to La Rochelle to book rail tickets to get back to London by TGV. They charge a whacking 250 Euros, so have settled for RyanAir to Stansted at around 85 Euros. This is mad! I am disappointed but I just can’t justify the cost against our dwindling Euro budget. And so, children, the planet Gaia was destroyed.
Then a tour of the chandleries to replace flares. The old flares are fine, but past the sell-by. And if you need them (and they are called distress flares) you do need them to work. There was a bad story about a chap who blew a hole in himself - be sure to point them the right way!
Followed by an afternoon at the Internet coalface - how can it take hours to book a flight? Gave up on National Express after being ejected from the card security system. Closely followed by a call from Egg telling me that I hadn’t got through their security. They have been nice enough to let me back into the system, but I’m going to buy my bus ticket at the airport - can’t go through all that again - at least not today.
It’s been too windy to work on the boat much today, anyway. Now I have done all the La Rochelle biz I can get to it tomorrow. Time’s a passing! Showers forecast for the next couple of days so will try to slap on the anti-fouling between them. Heavy showers at night, and the jolly halyards slap around inside the mast. (If you’d like to experience this noise for yourselves, you could try whacking a tightly wound wet towel on a radiator.)
Last bit of biz in La R is to discover why SFR mobile ain’t working. Something about needing a new SIM. Off to Place Verdun.
TTFN
STILL NO PIX
Went to La Rochelle to book rail tickets to get back to London by TGV. They charge a whacking 250 Euros, so have settled for RyanAir to Stansted at around 85 Euros. This is mad! I am disappointed but I just can’t justify the cost against our dwindling Euro budget. And so, children, the planet Gaia was destroyed.
Then a tour of the chandleries to replace flares. The old flares are fine, but past the sell-by. And if you need them (and they are called distress flares) you do need them to work. There was a bad story about a chap who blew a hole in himself - be sure to point them the right way!
Followed by an afternoon at the Internet coalface - how can it take hours to book a flight? Gave up on National Express after being ejected from the card security system. Closely followed by a call from Egg telling me that I hadn’t got through their security. They have been nice enough to let me back into the system, but I’m going to buy my bus ticket at the airport - can’t go through all that again - at least not today.
It’s been too windy to work on the boat much today, anyway. Now I have done all the La Rochelle biz I can get to it tomorrow. Time’s a passing! Showers forecast for the next couple of days so will try to slap on the anti-fouling between them. Heavy showers at night, and the jolly halyards slap around inside the mast. (If you’d like to experience this noise for yourselves, you could try whacking a tightly wound wet towel on a radiator.)
Last bit of biz in La R is to discover why SFR mobile ain’t working. Something about needing a new SIM. Off to Place Verdun.
TTFN
GETTING THERE
(B)log Thursday, May 14, 2009
SORRY NO PIX - HAVING PROBLEMS WITH UPLOAD
Well, here we are again - the Snork Maiden and me. It always takes a day to adjust to life aboard, especially when she’s out of the water. (I will put some yard pix on Picasa tomorrow.) The horses and frogs don’t seem to be here, but there’s lots of birdsong morning and evening.
Just to back up, I came over on the ferry Tuesday night. Usually the boat (from Plymouth to Roscoff) is an elderly vessel, the Pont Aven. She’s a bit lived in, and the cheap cabins were situated somewhere below the car decks, next to the engines. The deep throb used to send me to sleep - just as well, since the partitions between cabins were not up to the ceiling, and there was no barrier to noisy sleepers, kids, or party animals. The bathrooms were communal, but you were never far away from an exit route! (Think Poseidon.)
The new ferry - the Armorique, named for Brittany’s Cote d’Armor (not ‘amour’) is the exact opposite. She’s much more a floating hotel. Because I had changed my sailing just a couple of days before leaving, I had to book into ‘club class’ with a 4-person cabin to myself. A porthole comes with it, but not much to see on a night crossing, once the Plymouth outer breakwater slides past. As some of you know, I have strongly developed survival instincts and I always check out the escape routes. These are fewer on the Armorique. There are 3 ‘muster stations’ that you should head for. These give onto exits that have to be opened by the crew, and they are all in open areas, like the bars. I prefer the outside route that leads directly to the lifeboats, and it took me about 20 minutes to work it out, including counting the number of doors and flights of stairs I had to negotiate. Probably fewer than half a dozen passangers would do that, and nothing on the boat encourages them to do so. The back-of-cabin-door instructions were fairly impenetrable and as it was there were many bemused middle-aged-and-more couples looking for their cabins, or the bar, or the stairs back to their car. (On the old Pont Aven there were nice crew on the car decks, handing out little bits of paper with the car’s location handwritten on them. On the plus side, the buffet looked OK and the cabin, en suite de rigeur, was very good, with comfy bed and decent shower. (My tip for a sound sleep is pinch a second duvet from another bunk, and lie on that. Just like a feather bed.
I suppose you want to get to France now. OK. Grey day in Brittany. There are 2 problems immediately after disembarking - finding the quickest route to Morlaix (there seem to be several) and finding somewhere to go to the loo. (Digestive system still on UK time; France 1 hour ahead. I know that they both sound simple, but believe me…
You’ll be glad to know that I solved at least the second of these, thanks to M. Le Clerc. But I was so desperate that I almost forgot the pleasantries…. “Bonjour Madam, les toilettes, s’il vous plait.” “Aaargh - montez moi les bogs MAINTENANT.”
It took me most of the day to get to Marans, with more stops than usual to walk about a bit for my back. I had a couple of naps too, arriving here after 5. Dominic, the yard patron, was there when I arrived but he managed to slip off home before I could extract a long electricity cable from his messy and disorganised system. (There’s an Aussie guy here who describes Dominic as ‘slack’ and I guess that covers it.)
The good news - I DO have electricity now, although the cable is pretty open to the weather and I’ll be lucky if it survives the heavy showers we’re getting tonight. And the lift back into the water is booked for Wednesday.
Tomorrow I think I will take the outboard motor to La Rochelle to be serviced. Then I’ll get on with preparing the hull for anti-fouling in the afternoon. Hope the OK weather holds - it has been T-shirt warm in the day and pretty cosy at night in my sleeping bag.
I bought a merino wool long-sleeved top before leaving, and it’s fantastic. Warm, not scratchy, non-stinky. And before you point out that this is my year of not buying clothes, this is a piece of technical equipment!
Time to get my bunk clear and into sleeping mode. Although I have an electric light, there’s just one, and it’s easiest to finish up in daylight (dark around 10pm).
Night all, wherever you are.
SORRY NO PIX - HAVING PROBLEMS WITH UPLOAD
Well, here we are again - the Snork Maiden and me. It always takes a day to adjust to life aboard, especially when she’s out of the water. (I will put some yard pix on Picasa tomorrow.) The horses and frogs don’t seem to be here, but there’s lots of birdsong morning and evening.
Just to back up, I came over on the ferry Tuesday night. Usually the boat (from Plymouth to Roscoff) is an elderly vessel, the Pont Aven. She’s a bit lived in, and the cheap cabins were situated somewhere below the car decks, next to the engines. The deep throb used to send me to sleep - just as well, since the partitions between cabins were not up to the ceiling, and there was no barrier to noisy sleepers, kids, or party animals. The bathrooms were communal, but you were never far away from an exit route! (Think Poseidon.)
The new ferry - the Armorique, named for Brittany’s Cote d’Armor (not ‘amour’) is the exact opposite. She’s much more a floating hotel. Because I had changed my sailing just a couple of days before leaving, I had to book into ‘club class’ with a 4-person cabin to myself. A porthole comes with it, but not much to see on a night crossing, once the Plymouth outer breakwater slides past. As some of you know, I have strongly developed survival instincts and I always check out the escape routes. These are fewer on the Armorique. There are 3 ‘muster stations’ that you should head for. These give onto exits that have to be opened by the crew, and they are all in open areas, like the bars. I prefer the outside route that leads directly to the lifeboats, and it took me about 20 minutes to work it out, including counting the number of doors and flights of stairs I had to negotiate. Probably fewer than half a dozen passangers would do that, and nothing on the boat encourages them to do so. The back-of-cabin-door instructions were fairly impenetrable and as it was there were many bemused middle-aged-and-more couples looking for their cabins, or the bar, or the stairs back to their car. (On the old Pont Aven there were nice crew on the car decks, handing out little bits of paper with the car’s location handwritten on them. On the plus side, the buffet looked OK and the cabin, en suite de rigeur, was very good, with comfy bed and decent shower. (My tip for a sound sleep is pinch a second duvet from another bunk, and lie on that. Just like a feather bed.
I suppose you want to get to France now. OK. Grey day in Brittany. There are 2 problems immediately after disembarking - finding the quickest route to Morlaix (there seem to be several) and finding somewhere to go to the loo. (Digestive system still on UK time; France 1 hour ahead. I know that they both sound simple, but believe me…
You’ll be glad to know that I solved at least the second of these, thanks to M. Le Clerc. But I was so desperate that I almost forgot the pleasantries…. “Bonjour Madam, les toilettes, s’il vous plait.” “Aaargh - montez moi les bogs MAINTENANT.”
It took me most of the day to get to Marans, with more stops than usual to walk about a bit for my back. I had a couple of naps too, arriving here after 5. Dominic, the yard patron, was there when I arrived but he managed to slip off home before I could extract a long electricity cable from his messy and disorganised system. (There’s an Aussie guy here who describes Dominic as ‘slack’ and I guess that covers it.)
The good news - I DO have electricity now, although the cable is pretty open to the weather and I’ll be lucky if it survives the heavy showers we’re getting tonight. And the lift back into the water is booked for Wednesday.
Tomorrow I think I will take the outboard motor to La Rochelle to be serviced. Then I’ll get on with preparing the hull for anti-fouling in the afternoon. Hope the OK weather holds - it has been T-shirt warm in the day and pretty cosy at night in my sleeping bag.
I bought a merino wool long-sleeved top before leaving, and it’s fantastic. Warm, not scratchy, non-stinky. And before you point out that this is my year of not buying clothes, this is a piece of technical equipment!
Time to get my bunk clear and into sleeping mode. Although I have an electric light, there’s just one, and it’s easiest to finish up in daylight (dark around 10pm).
Night all, wherever you are.
GETTING THERE
(B)log Thursday, May 14, 2009
SORRY NO PIX - HAVING PROBLEMS WITH UPLOAD
Well, here we are again - the Snork Maiden and me. It always takes a day to adjust to life aboard, especially when she’s out of the water. (I will put some yard pix on Picasa tomorrow.) The horses and frogs don’t seem to be here, but there’s lots of birdsong morning and evening.
Just to back up, I came over on the ferry Tuesday night. Usually the boat (from Plymouth to Roscoff) is an elderly vessel, the Pont Aven. She’s a bit lived in, and the cheap cabins were situated somewhere below the car decks, next to the engines. The deep throb used to send me to sleep - just as well, since the partitions between cabins were not up to the ceiling, and there was no barrier to noisy sleepers, kids, or party animals. The bathrooms were communal, but you were never far away from an exit route! (Think Poseidon.)
The new ferry - the Armorique, named for Brittany’s Cote d’Armor (not ‘amour’) is the exact opposite. She’s much more a floating hotel. Because I had changed my sailing just a couple of days before leaving, I had to book into ‘club class’ with a 4-person cabin to myself. A porthole comes with it, but not much to see on a night crossing, once the Plymouth outer breakwater slides past. As some of you know, I have strongly developed survival instincts and I always check out the escape routes. These are fewer on the Armorique. There are 3 ‘muster stations’ that you should head for. These give onto exits that have to be opened by the crew, and they are all in open areas, like the bars. I prefer the outside route that leads directly to the lifeboats, and it took me about 20 minutes to work it out, including counting the number of doors and flights of stairs I had to negotiate. Probably fewer than half a dozen passangers would do that, and nothing on the boat encourages them to do so. The back-of-cabin-door instructions were fairly impenetrable and as it was there were many bemused middle-aged-and-more couples looking for their cabins, or the bar, or the stairs back to their car. (On the old Pont Aven there were nice crew on the car decks, handing out little bits of paper with the car’s location handwritten on them. On the plus side, the buffet looked OK and the cabin, en suite de rigeur, was very good, with comfy bed and decent shower. (My tip for a sound sleep is pinch a second duvet from another bunk, and lie on that. Just like a feather bed.
I suppose you want to get to France now. OK. Grey day in Brittany. There are 2 problems immediately after disembarking - finding the quickest route to Morlaix (there seem to be several) and finding somewhere to go to the loo. (Digestive system still on UK time; France 1 hour ahead. I know that they both sound simple, but believe me…
You’ll be glad to know that I solved at least the second of these, thanks to M. Le Clerc. But I was so desperate that I almost forgot the pleasantries…. “Bonjour Madam, les toilettes, s’il vous plait.” “Aaargh - montez moi les bogs MAINTENANT.”
It took me most of the day to get to Marans, with more stops than usual to walk about a bit for my back. I had a couple of naps too, arriving here after 5. Dominic, the yard patron, was there when I arrived but he managed to slip off home before I could extract a long electricity cable from his messy and disorganised system. (There’s an Aussie guy here who describes Dominic as ‘slack’ and I guess that covers it.)
The good news - I DO have electricity now, although the cable is pretty open to the weather and I’ll be lucky if it survives the heavy showers we’re getting tonight. And the lift back into the water is booked for Wednesday.
Tomorrow I think I will take the outboard motor to La Rochelle to be serviced. Then I’ll get on with preparing the hull for anti-fouling in the afternoon. Hope the OK weather holds - it has been T-shirt warm in the day and pretty cosy at night in my sleeping bag.
I bought a merino wool long-sleeved top before leaving, and it’s fantastic. Warm, not scratchy, non-stinky. And before you point out that this is my year of not buying clothes, this is a piece of technical equipment!
Time to get my bunk clear and into sleeping mode. Although I have an electric light, there’s just one, and it’s easiest to finish up in daylight (dark around 10pm).
Night all, wherever you are.
SORRY NO PIX - HAVING PROBLEMS WITH UPLOAD
Well, here we are again - the Snork Maiden and me. It always takes a day to adjust to life aboard, especially when she’s out of the water. (I will put some yard pix on Picasa tomorrow.) The horses and frogs don’t seem to be here, but there’s lots of birdsong morning and evening.
Just to back up, I came over on the ferry Tuesday night. Usually the boat (from Plymouth to Roscoff) is an elderly vessel, the Pont Aven. She’s a bit lived in, and the cheap cabins were situated somewhere below the car decks, next to the engines. The deep throb used to send me to sleep - just as well, since the partitions between cabins were not up to the ceiling, and there was no barrier to noisy sleepers, kids, or party animals. The bathrooms were communal, but you were never far away from an exit route! (Think Poseidon.)
The new ferry - the Armorique, named for Brittany’s Cote d’Armor (not ‘amour’) is the exact opposite. She’s much more a floating hotel. Because I had changed my sailing just a couple of days before leaving, I had to book into ‘club class’ with a 4-person cabin to myself. A porthole comes with it, but not much to see on a night crossing, once the Plymouth outer breakwater slides past. As some of you know, I have strongly developed survival instincts and I always check out the escape routes. These are fewer on the Armorique. There are 3 ‘muster stations’ that you should head for. These give onto exits that have to be opened by the crew, and they are all in open areas, like the bars. I prefer the outside route that leads directly to the lifeboats, and it took me about 20 minutes to work it out, including counting the number of doors and flights of stairs I had to negotiate. Probably fewer than half a dozen passangers would do that, and nothing on the boat encourages them to do so. The back-of-cabin-door instructions were fairly impenetrable and as it was there were many bemused middle-aged-and-more couples looking for their cabins, or the bar, or the stairs back to their car. (On the old Pont Aven there were nice crew on the car decks, handing out little bits of paper with the car’s location handwritten on them. On the plus side, the buffet looked OK and the cabin, en suite de rigeur, was very good, with comfy bed and decent shower. (My tip for a sound sleep is pinch a second duvet from another bunk, and lie on that. Just like a feather bed.
I suppose you want to get to France now. OK. Grey day in Brittany. There are 2 problems immediately after disembarking - finding the quickest route to Morlaix (there seem to be several) and finding somewhere to go to the loo. (Digestive system still on UK time; France 1 hour ahead. I know that they both sound simple, but believe me…
You’ll be glad to know that I solved at least the second of these, thanks to M. Le Clerc. But I was so desperate that I almost forgot the pleasantries…. “Bonjour Madam, les toilettes, s’il vous plait.” “Aaargh - montez moi les bogs MAINTENANT.”
It took me most of the day to get to Marans, with more stops than usual to walk about a bit for my back. I had a couple of naps too, arriving here after 5. Dominic, the yard patron, was there when I arrived but he managed to slip off home before I could extract a long electricity cable from his messy and disorganised system. (There’s an Aussie guy here who describes Dominic as ‘slack’ and I guess that covers it.)
The good news - I DO have electricity now, although the cable is pretty open to the weather and I’ll be lucky if it survives the heavy showers we’re getting tonight. And the lift back into the water is booked for Wednesday.
Tomorrow I think I will take the outboard motor to La Rochelle to be serviced. Then I’ll get on with preparing the hull for anti-fouling in the afternoon. Hope the OK weather holds - it has been T-shirt warm in the day and pretty cosy at night in my sleeping bag.
I bought a merino wool long-sleeved top before leaving, and it’s fantastic. Warm, not scratchy, non-stinky. And before you point out that this is my year of not buying clothes, this is a piece of technical equipment!
Time to get my bunk clear and into sleeping mode. Although I have an electric light, there’s just one, and it’s easiest to finish up in daylight (dark around 10pm).
Night all, wherever you are.
Monday, 11 May 2009
Oh no!
Help! I have been struck down with a disobedient back. No obvious cause apart from the usual suspect - stress. But why? And why now? So today is the 11th and I am not sure whether or not to take the ferry tonight. Yesterday evening I thought I was practically OK, then this morning couldn't hardly get out of bed without crying.
"Will all drivers rejoin their vehicles on the car-deck..." I will have to be carried down there... Checking out Brittany ferries to see whether I can get a cabin tomorrow night - website says not. Maybe on compassionate grounds, har har...
Back to re-rigging my travel arrangements.
Virtual massages accepted!
"Will all drivers rejoin their vehicles on the car-deck..." I will have to be carried down there... Checking out Brittany ferries to see whether I can get a cabin tomorrow night - website says not. Maybe on compassionate grounds, har har...
Back to re-rigging my travel arrangements.
Virtual massages accepted!
Oh no!
Help! I have been struck down with a disobedient back. No obvious cause apart from the usual suspect - stress. But why? And why now? So today is the 11th and I am not sure whether or not to take the ferry tonight. Yesterday evening I thought I was practically OK, then this morning couldn't hardly get out of bed without crying.
"Will all drivers rejoin their vehicles on the car-deck..." I will have to be carried down there... Checking out Brittany ferries to see whether I can get a cabin tomorrow night - website says not. Maybe on compassionate grounds, har har...
Back to re-rigging my travel arrangements.
Virtual massages accepted!
"Will all drivers rejoin their vehicles on the car-deck..." I will have to be carried down there... Checking out Brittany ferries to see whether I can get a cabin tomorrow night - website says not. Maybe on compassionate grounds, har har...
Back to re-rigging my travel arrangements.
Virtual massages accepted!
Monday, 20 April 2009
Smell the Sea
The sailing season is coming… Snork Maiden smells the sea! Current plan is that I go over to La Rochelle (Marans) with the car, tins of antifouling, engine spares, ship’s stores (weeveley biscuits and salt pork, or maybe quinoa & tins of tomatoes) and anything else that seems useful. I will cross via the Plymouth-Roscoff ferry - have yet to settle on a date, but somewhere between 5 and 9th May. If I have a willing crew, I’ll try to leave sooner rather than later, to make sure we get some sailing time (weather permitting).
Travelling on the night ferry, I usually arrive at Marans mid-afternoon or so (picnic on the way).
It should take about a week to get the boat ready to go into the water - depends on how hard I work, and how many problems come up! (An how many scurvy dogs are helping me!) As you all know by now, nothing to do with the sea and ships is at all predictable
So once in the water, will go for a little test cruise, depending on the weather. Could go round to La Rochelle, Ile de Re, usual suspects, then back into Marans. Or if it’s just me and the auto-pilot, I could nip down to the lock and back!
I need to get back to London by night of May 23rd. If there were 2 or 3 of us, car & ferry might be economic. Otherwise trains look good.
Then Al & I will head back down on June 2 via EasyJet from Bristol to La R, and cruise until approximately the end of June, when we head back to Bristol. Snork Maiden will (hopefully) wait patiently in the water at Marans until we return in September to do a bit more sailing and then lift her for the winter.
As some of you might know, the major plan for next year is to take 6 months and go down to Greece, but this will depend on things looking good economically (har har) around the end of January. I’ll keep y’all posted. If we decide to go, we will be looking for some nice people to rent / take care of our house.
So, all you adventurers, sharpen your cutlasses and swash your buckles.
Travelling on the night ferry, I usually arrive at Marans mid-afternoon or so (picnic on the way).
It should take about a week to get the boat ready to go into the water - depends on how hard I work, and how many problems come up! (An how many scurvy dogs are helping me!) As you all know by now, nothing to do with the sea and ships is at all predictable
So once in the water, will go for a little test cruise, depending on the weather. Could go round to La Rochelle, Ile de Re, usual suspects, then back into Marans. Or if it’s just me and the auto-pilot, I could nip down to the lock and back!
I need to get back to London by night of May 23rd. If there were 2 or 3 of us, car & ferry might be economic. Otherwise trains look good.
Then Al & I will head back down on June 2 via EasyJet from Bristol to La R, and cruise until approximately the end of June, when we head back to Bristol. Snork Maiden will (hopefully) wait patiently in the water at Marans until we return in September to do a bit more sailing and then lift her for the winter.
As some of you might know, the major plan for next year is to take 6 months and go down to Greece, but this will depend on things looking good economically (har har) around the end of January. I’ll keep y’all posted. If we decide to go, we will be looking for some nice people to rent / take care of our house.
So, all you adventurers, sharpen your cutlasses and swash your buckles.
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