Gallic Peregrinations.

“If you believe you are a citizen of the world, you are a citizen of nowhere.”  . . .  with those words (then) Prime Minister Teresa May not only disenfranchised me, but also lumped me in with heartless employers, wide-boy corporate raiders, terrorist enablers, and tax-dodging ultra-capitalists . . . a ploy by which to obfuscate behind a smoke-screen of half-truths and outright lies. She was, I felt, very deeply: aiming her venom directly at me. Well . . . here are Lyn and I, in France . . . I, riding on my Irish passport, and she on her Canadian identity.

We have just taken ownership of a new boat: VENT DU NORD; 

    and are about a couple of weeks into the tortuous process of bringing her to Ireland. This will involve a journey - through French and Belgian waterways - of more than 750kms., and passage through no less than 203 locks!

Whilst (the never-to-be-forgotten) MOONSTONE was transported from Yorkshire to Knockvicar by road haulage; the bridges and power-lines of France are low enough to present expensive impediments to such a continental odyssey. Significant funds might be saved - we were informed - by starting the road journey at the ferry-port of Zeebrugge. Thusly: the watery expedition upon which we are currently engaged.

I am writing from the historic town of Saint Dizier, but the journey - not uneventful, occasionally frustrating, but satisfyingly social - begins; about six weeks ago; in the tiny Burgundian town of Plombiers les Dijon; and relation of the journey will commence in the next chapter of this blog; as soon as I can find more spare time. For the nonce . . . au revoir! Tom.