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

From the mountains to the sea

This post is dedicated, with heartfelt thanks, to all of our kind hosts who looked after us so well in Germany.

On the road to the Alps - in the Allgaeu

The German Alps

The Austrian Alps

Alpenhut: delicious strudel

Our great German tour has run its course and, after nearly two months of couch-surfing the length and breadth of the Fatherland, we're back on board in Mortagne. The carpool method of transport really worked out well for us on this trip, making otherwise awkward connexions easy and, just as important, cheap.

The final and most extreme example provided our link from Munich to Mortagne, direct, door to door. This stroke of luck came in the form of a student on his way from Munich to Gijon, putting us right on his route and about 3/4 of the way along. So, for a 2/3 share of the petrol and road-toll costs, a share of the driving on a knackering non-stop 14-hour overnight drive, we got home. It has to be said, driving overnight is much more tiring than sailing overnight. Still, the drive would have been a good bit longer with daytime traffic, so it was worth the effort.

The snow-maned lions of Munich

Brr! Surfing a standing wave in Munich's Englischer Garten

We had a super time in Germany, but it's good to be back with the vessel and to find all well here after our absence. It feels like spring here after our time in the north, but actually there's a good month of winter still to come.

Blue sky over mud

Winter reed beds

It seems we timed our trip well for several reasons. The weather was apparently awful. Days and days, stretching to weeks, of rain. The land is soggy. The shower/toilet block got most of the way through its refurbishment while we were away too and the dredging of the harbour is well under way.

There isn't normally a pond here 

The 'Sturgeon' - Mortagne's dredger in repose

The great shower/loo refurbishment is not without its drawbacks unfortunately. In true French fashion, the workman vanished about 2/3 of the way through the job. Okay, the one shower that's working is good but: we had to hang the door before we could use it, there's no place to put your clothes, the water goes absolutely everywhere (including out into the street), the hot and cold taps are the wrong way around and, finally, there's dirt everywhere. Mustn't grumble - we managed.

The tarp's back up - ready for the rain still to come

Reunion with the Roede Orms

One of the reasons we settled on the Biscay area for our winter quarters was that it would be easy to visit friends and family on the Continent over the non-sailing months. At the end of November we left Fettler snugged down in Mortagne and headed for Germany. After a week with my parents in Berlin we started to criss-cross Germany using the excellent car pool system, a bit like organised hitch-hiking and possibly the cheapest way to travel Germany short of hitch-hiking itself. First we visited friends in Darmstadt (the ones who introduced us to sailing some 15 years ago by chartering a boat on the Norfolk Broads and inviting us along) and then hopped back north to reunite with the Roede Orms, last seen in Porto Santo.

The Kiel Canal, linking the North Sea to the Baltic

Roede Orm is now tucked up in a big barn for the winter, but the Conrads are just as welcoming in their land quarters by the Kiel Canal. The sailing season here is over for all but the hardiest, with Baltic temperatures of down to -10C at night.

Roede Orm in her deluxe winter storage, a big barn on a farm

Buelk Light House, on the foggy Baltic coast

It's nice to be in Germany at Christmas time with all the good old traditions that this entails: advent calendars (not just chocolate and not just for kids, with options ranging from lego to tea) and adventskranz, Christmas markets with mulled wine and, of course, Feuerzangenbowle.

Third Advent in the Conrad household

A walk in the snow with 12-year-old beagle Toke

The plan is to potter around Germany a few weeks longer before rejoining Fettler in the New Year and getting ready to put back to sea.
So, best wishes of the season to all and a happy and prosperous 2013!

France by bike and by van

We've been keeping busy, in between sessions of lying low through wet autumn weather (November being statistically the rainiest month here). When the weather's fair, we get out on the bike and are gradually extending our range as the cycling fitness levels improve.

Our latest run took us up to about 45 miles round trip to the mouth of the Gironde, at Royan.

Autumn leaves in Les Arces 

Royan was badly flattened in the later stages of the Second World War and extensively rebuilt through the 1950s, including the main church, Notre Dame de Royan, which was constructed to a radically new design, begun in 1955 and finished in 1958. The building looks a bit odd from the outside, but the space within is quite remarkably arresting and can accommodate around 2000 people.

The concrete Notre Dame de Royan

Plain without, stunning within 

Digging the beach at Royan

Crazy mud berths at Les Monards

A surprise jaunt to Belgium cropped up when we were given a commission to pick up a big (BIG) van-load of stuff near Brussels and bring it back to Mortagne. We had to make the journey up in one 10-hour go, which was fairly tough, with the crossing of Paris falling smack in rush hour, but once the van was loaded up we were free to do a bit of touring on the way back down and stopped several nights.

Belgian interlude: the park at Tervuren

Gent: Who says Belgium is boring?

Arras town hall, almost entirely rebuilt after WWI

The inner basin at Honfleur, Normandy

Honfleur street

Armistice Day in Normandy

War grave at Pont l'Eveque

The Chateau at Bazouges, Loir Valley

Look back in Angers, at the 12th century cathedral

13th century stained glass windows, Angers Cathedral

Pleasant as the trip was, we were pretty tired by the time we got back and still agree that touring by boat is the best!

Feline sleepover, back on board