Sail north till the olive oil solidifies

It's a bit of a photofest this time - we've been busy since the previous post.

We're now having the coldest weather since arriving in Mortagne. A big high pressure over Norway is sweeping Siberian air down this way. I woke up with condensation on my moustache this morning, the marina water supply is shut off to prevent ice damage and the olive oil has turned into something more like a spread.

Icicles on the limestone cliffs

Condensation. It's probably the worst nuisance that comes with living on board a normal sort (ie uninsulated) of boat in colder weather. We've managed to avoid it in the main cabin by keeping the main hatch open overnight but the forward cabin and the quarter berth still get it. Happily we've got everything stowed in dry bags or plastic containers for protection from damp, but it's still a bit of a pain to pull it all out to dry and clean the surroundings.

The job of replacing the conked-out battery monitor provided a useful incentive to empty out the quarter berth as half the boat required dismantling for that relatively simple task. It only took two days in all.

Out with the old. The wires go WHERE?

In with the new. Pity one of the buttons is faulty...

Otherwise, we've been doing quite a lot of cycling. We want to take the tandem home with us and what better way than to ride it there? Well, at least to Plymouth where, once on UK soil, we can send it the rest of the way up to Scotland relatively cheaply. Anyway, we're in training for the big ride up to Brittany next month, on the Velodyssey route. The main thing is getting the backsides to the stage where they can handle 7 or so hours in the saddle per day. It's also a good chance to see the remaining sights of the interior around these parts.

The Camino de Santiago passes through this region. The local appellation is Chemin de Saint Jacques, but we saw a classic bit of translation on a sign in Pons which referred to it as 'The way of the James'. Obviously, that struck a bit of a chord with me. Now Sonja, when somehow dissatisfied with my driving on the tandem, complains that we're always cycling the way of the James.

Mediaeval market hall in Cozes

Vitrezay, on my birthday

Roman stuff in Saintes

Abbaye in Saintes - favourite pigeon perch

Abbaye door arch

More Roman remains

The amphitheatre - yes, there has been a lot of rain

Notre Dame de Royan (again, but I couldn't resist)

3D stained glass in NDdeR!

And some more

A pause for refreshment - great cycling country

The coming road trip has prompted us to expand our repertoire of food flask cookery. Our boat breakfast for months past has been food flask porridge, which might be the best ever way to cook porridge:

100g porridge oats
2 tbsp full fat milk powder
2 tbsp brown sugar
2 tbsp sultanas
1 small apple, diced
Add 500ml boiling water, mix well, leave about 30 min (possibly less if you're in a hurry), stir again and serve 5 or 10 min later. It'll keep hot for hours in the flask if you want it for later.

Now we're branching out into couscous, polenta and mashed potato with stock powder and different vegetables and salami. Simple, lightweight, easy to prepare on board or on the road. Washing up: minimal.

When resting after the cycle training, we've been continuing with our rambles through the marshlands in our immediate area. The light around here is often amazing and ever changing with the weather and time of day.

Dusk settles

Cold front passing 

The front

In a hunters' shelter on the marsh

Evening wagtail visitor, perched on the toe rail

Safe haven

The palette changes daily here

We have settled happily back aboard. We've come up with a pretty good strategy to cope with the shower block shortcomings. It's trugs to the rescue again! We take the two largest with us into the shower so that the clothes and towels can be dryly stowed in one with the other over top. They also then provide a clean and dry place to stand in while dressing. Such are the small things that provide us with a sense of achievement these days.

Shrimper takes a mudbath in the outer channel

The weather has been very unsettled, with occasional very nice days scattered in between spells of heavy rain and powerful winds. The first bad storm we've experienced here blew through one day last week. The wind got up to 50 knots out of the west but so complete is the shelter in this harbour that we weren't troubled in the least. The boat rocked a bit with the gusts and the tarp crackled quite loudly but we were snug and safe.

L'estuaire - the flats have only been cultivated for 60 years

Tour de Beaumont - 19thC. navigational aid

St. Fort sur Gironde - another of the area's fine churches

Something we've noticed with the return to cooler latitudes is what a difference it makes to one's enjoyment of warm sunshine. All through the last warm winter we spent in the Canaries we were enjoying the sun all right, but it wasn't the same visceral satisfaction remembered from Scotland. It's the same with taking a hot shower.

Bad news for the rodent population

There are signs of spring already though. The days are stretching noticeably and the storks have returned. Bird watching on the mudflats has been particularly good, with large flocks of lapwings and avocets that fly around looking like shoals of fish each late afternoon. There are also shellducks, geese of some sort and various small waders that never come close enough to be identified. We've also seen quite a lot of a local pair of barn owls who start hunting over a nearby field just before sunset.

Tower above the 3rd century Hermitage

Our wellie boots are seeing plenty of action

This evening's tide was quite a high one. The French use a coefficient system to express tidal height. It ranges from 20, for a low neap tide, to 118 for the maximum spring tide. The mean spring is 95. Today we had 100 and it looked like this:

High water