Thursday 6th October 2022 – IT WASN’T QUITE …

… the Sleep of the Dead that I was expecting last night. According to the dictaphone I’d been on a few travels during the night – a couple of which seemed to go on for ever.

In fact I was awake fairly early too but I waited until Rachel had gone to work before leaving the bed. I don’t want to get in her way while she’s busy sorting herself out.

After the medication I had a listen to the dictaphone to see where I’d been during the night. I started out by going to a radio meeting. There had just been one and everyone was saying how the manager and one of the guys on this meeting were really all for Sicily and doing everything they can to promote the idea of Sicily chucking our radio shows. I had to get myself ready to go. The kitchen where we were living was in a real state and I couldn’t find anything. The other guy who was interested in Sicily came in to talk to me. He talked about the radio and said “your programme goes on rain or shine with no problems come what may. You’ll carry on for ever. One day you’ll be taken round by loads of bands, everything whereas ours is a bit of a different proposition. We carried on and then he said something about “I’d better go for my breakfast otherwise I’d be late for this meeting. I turned around to find the bread, then I had to hunt around for the kettle that was hidden behind a pile of broccoli or something like that but there was that much stuff on the kitchen worktop that you would never imagine. Then I started to prepare everything to go to this meeting

Later on I’d been invited to attend a conference. I thought that I’d go along. It involved staying away from home for a week. I went and we all met at an airport somewhere. We’d flown in. It looked rather like Brussels. The first thing that I remember was someone’s daughter who was about 6 or 7 , an extremely rude girl to the point as if she was autistic. She was telling everyone basically the truth with no social niceties or anything, something that many people found unsettling. We all boarded a bus, about a dozen of us. Then it set off. After a while the guy in charge of this bus said that there had been a mistake and he was sorry about it but we’re all going to have to go straight here. I didn’t really understand what was happening. When we came to alight there was a huge scramble for the door. I was separated from my rucksack and had to fight my way to reach it. I thought that this doesn’t sound very nice if this is how these people are behaving. I’m not looking forward to spending any time with them. We all alighted and someone began to ask me questions like “how long do you have to wait after applying before you can join?”, all this sort of thing and I really didn’t have a clue what they were asking. I wondered whether I’d ended up being invited by mistake. It all sounded very much like a religious sect to me. Off we went and they began to tell us what we could and couldn’t do during this convention. Leaving the convention area was one thing. We weren’t allowed to do that. We couldn’t go for walks on our own etc. I was starting to have a really bad feeling about this. Then they served us a meal and all the food tasted funny. It suddenly occurred to me that what they were doing with the food was that they were drugging it so you’d develop some kind of dependency on whatever it was that they were putting in so that you’d be tied to these people for quite some time as they would be the only source of whatever they put into your meal. I had the feeling that this would be one of those high-powered sales and selling team conventions with the aim of selling all the product that they had in stock and pushing, presumably at a high price for something that’s not necessary. Whatever money you made you’d be spending with them to buy the drugs that would keep you going. I immediately started to feel quite uncomfortable about this.

Then we had a kind-of Paul Temple-like episode. I was sitting quietly in an office and two guys walked in. One of them said “Am I your new Lord. I’m Lord so-and-so”. I replied “I’ve no idea what you are talking about”. He dropped a few forms on my desk. One was dated 1905 and the other some other time basically to the effect that he had assumed ownership of the premises. I thought that that was most unlikely. I asked him what made him think that he was the Lord. He shouted and some big guy came in and began to rough me up. The rounded me up and rounded up the woman who was the wife of the owner who was probably something like Paul Temple. They ushered us out, a group of us. We headed down the street. There was a friendly dog that I knew which was friendly to me but quite a vicious animal to a lot of other people. We walked past and I called the dog over in its garden. It saw these other people and started to menace them although it was behind a fence. They all moved off hurriedly. At some point Paul Temple caught up with us. There was a huge fight which ended with the two of us overpowering these other guys. We started to walk them back to our premises. On the way we came past this dog so we simply released the dog. It grabbed hold of one of these guys and dragged him off. There were things like man-eating turtles, thins kind of thing in a mud-bath around the corner. We took the people round there and these turtles began to take an extreme amount of interest in them. You could see that there was going to be some really cruel and wicked retribution going on her on our part as we let all these wierd and wild animals loose on the people who had caused all this trouble.

There was also something on the dictaphone from the previous night too so I dealt with that and then updated yesterday’s entry.

There wasn’t much that i could do for the rest of the day. I was waiting for Rosemary to call me back with the details of the sunroof for this vehicle so that I could drive down to Woodstock to order its replacement but there was no call.

Consequently, when it was too late now to go anywhere I went outside and began to perform an inventory of what there is in Strider and to throw out the rubbish I didn’t go very far though because I couldn’t find the key for the truck cap I did what I could in the cab but even so there is still plenty that needs to be done I can do that tomorrow

But he’ll need more than a good clean inside. He’s full of dirt and gravel so I don’t know where he’s been but he’s filthy.

Tea tonight was vegan meatballs and home fries (thick-cut chips) cooked in Rachel’s air fryer. She has one of them too but regrettably she’s not explored the full range of functions so she couldn’t give me any tips.

So right now I’m going to bed. There’s a lot to do tomorrow. For a start, buying this sunroof might be something but I have to arrange to send it to France by freight and that’s not going to be very easy, is it?

Wednesday 5th October 2022 – STRAWBERRY MOOSE AND I …

… took Strider out for a run this afternoon.

It’s been three years since we last went out together and it really felt good to be back behind Strider’s wheel. It took a while to remember how everything worked and to stop trying to change gear with the non-existent floor-mounted gear level (Strider is an automatic with column change).

But I’ll tell you something for nothing, and that is driving through the Maritime Canada October sunshine with the window wide open, all of this depression and miserable thoughts simply blew away in the wind and I felt so much better – better in fact than I’ve felt for years.

It’s something that I’ve noticed on previous occasions. There’s something about the air in North America that is different from Europe and makes me feel much more dynamic. Maybe this explains how come the entrepreneurial spirit in North America is so much more developed.

It started at some time during the night. There’s some stuff on the dictaphone (that I have forgotten to transcribe) but from earlier in the night. Once I’d gone into a deep sleep I must have stayed there without moving at all until I awoke with a start at about 08:00.

Once Rachel had gone to work I left the bed and went for a shower and to wash my clothes. That felt so very much better too. And then I had some work to do this morning.

Round about lunchtime I decided to go out for a drive. No fuel in Strider so first port of call was the petrol station down the road. There’s a family of recent British immigrants with exactly the same name as Darren and who live down the road. They have bought the Convenience Store, café and petrol station down the road so I fuelled up there and we had quite a lengthy chat about this and that.

From there we drove off down the road and we’ll need a bigger vehicle because by the time we got to Woodstock we were half a million strong.

At the Ford garage we discussed the question of the sunroof for this Ford Flex in France. Once we’d managed to identify the vehicle from its VIN (not easy when it’s written in the Cyrillic alphabet) we could proceed, only to find out that the vehicle is fitted with more than one sunroof. I had to send a message back to France to make further enquiries.

This is going to take longer than I thought.

Next stop was Sobey’s. Rachel had given me a list of shopping and I added quite a few things onto it. I’ll be here for a while and I have to pay my way. But with no Common Agricultural Policy, food prices here are much more expensive than you might think. For example, here in the breadbasket of the World, the baguette that costs me €0.35 in a French supermarket costs me $2.49

At the little settlement of Lakeville in between Woodstock and Centreville there is, as you might expect, a lake. And it’s quite a beautiful one too.

It was lucky that we had stopped off for groceries just now because I was starving. It was quite late in the afternoon and I”d had nothing whatever to eat since breakfast.

At Sobey’s I’d stocked up with a baguette, some vegan cheese and some bits and pieces of other stuff too and the setting at the lakeside made quite a nice place to stop for a quick meal to keep me going until teatime

That’s the road bridge down ther,e overwhich I’ve just driven. Woodstock is down there in that direction, towards the south.

As you can see though, I am not alone on my adventures today. Strawberry Moose has decided to accompany me on my way round.

He’s quite a seasoned traveller of course, having been halfway around the world either with me, other people or on one famous occasion, packed inside a cardboard box and carefully sealed in, just in case he decided to make good his escape, seeing as there was no-one to accompany him and to keep an eye on him to make sure that he doesn’t get into any mischief

And “getting into mischief” on the High Seas is nothing unusual for him either.

Show him a ship and he’ll go his best to hi-jack it, round up a selected crew from the passers-by on the quayside, and set out to roam the oceans looking for booty from the treasure ships that set out from the Spanish Main to sail back to the Old World.

Piracy is nothing new for Strawberry Moose, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall. Back in 2017 when we were in the Carolinas he also COMMANDEERED A SHIP nad caused mayhem in the Graveyard of the Atlantic.

Actually, he didn’t have all that much luck out on the lake at Lakeville, which is no surprise.

Instead, he went for a wander around to try out all of the other attractions, such as the geodesic climbing fraùe . With nothing at the top of the frame, he wasn’t actually climbing for any good purpose. he was merely doing it for some good, old, honest fun.

That’s probably what would make him something of a social climber, I suppose, except that he was doing it on his own without any companion.

So what else was there on this kiddies’ playground with which he could amuse himself?

Having climbed up to the top of the geodesic frame then the only way from there is downwards and here at the back of the pirate ship is the emergency exit, which is to be used, I suppose, if you ever run into trouble with a maritime patrol while you are out and about.

It’s time for us to return to my niece’s and I suppose that that counts as an emergency as much as anything else , so here we come!

It was a late tea tonight (so it was just as well that I’d had some bread and cheese earlier) followed by another lengthy chat and now I’m crawling off to bed. No time to transcribe the dictaphone notes so I did that the following day. I’d been extremely busy all day and it hadn’t stopped. It ended up being a meal for some football players. They had all been eating. Someone had ordered a curry but hadn’t actually eaten it. I suggested that I could have the curry. That would do me nicely and save on waste. I’d have something to eat as well. Someone went off and collected a plate etc. I saw them scraping the rice, potatoes and curry onto a plate. Next thing I saw was that they were carrying a mini-baguette with them but I didn’t see them after that. I wondered where on earth they had gone with the meal. Had they actually decided to eat it themselves because I wanted it? I felt extremely disappointed about that.

So right now I intend to sleep the Sleep of the Dead.

Tuesday 4th October 2022 – WE HAD A NEW …

… student in our Welsh class this morning.

There I was taking part in the lesson when suddenly something black and furry stuck her head in front of my camera. It’s been three years since I’ve seen Cujo the Killer Cat but she certainly remembered who I was. She jumped up onto my knee in mid lesson and has spent much of the day sitting on my lap being stroked.

That’s because I wasn’t in any condition to go out and about today.

But anyway, more of this anon.

Last night was spent doing a lot of tossing and turning about. The bed isn’t as comfortable as the one in Montreal, that’s to be sure, but I really wasn’t in much of any state to go to sleep.

An alarm going off at 05:45 didn’t improve my morale any, and when I connected to my Zoom lesson at 06:00 and found that I’d downloaded the wrong course book to bring with me, I didn’t feel any better.

Eventually I managed to sort myself out, download the correct book and introduce Cujo to my classmates, accompanied by a pile of “ooohs” and “aaahs”, then the lesson could continue.

It was slow and painful, not helped by the internet connection, and I was glad when it was over.

Next stop was to listen to what was on the dictaphone. There was some kind of nightmare about everyone who was in the water. Some were in tattoos etc. I was watching them. It was the end of a film. When the whistle went, these people set off to start to swim. There was a load of people coming up behind them dressed in Victorian clothes of the era, very posh, who were just shooting them in the water like some kind of sport until there wasn’t anyone left alive. It was so realistic a nightmare that I thought it was the end of a film of a real event. It really was realistic

And then I dreamed that there was a contract out to build a pile of boats for the Canadian Shipping Company or something that meant that some of them had to be redesigned. I submitted work to redesign 4 but when it came down to it I was awarded the contract for 3 but I couldn’t find out what had become of the 4th. So when we had to introduce ourselves to everyone who was watching, this was what I said. Basically that I’d applied for the contract for 4 but only had 3 so it seemed as if boat n°4 which was called Zodiac had not been remodelled and I really didn’t have the remotest idea whether or not that was correct. I might have been given the plans and lost them, something like that, but that was what I said.

Finally I was with my Welsh group. We were about to take part in a lesson so I was changing. There were other people around there changing as well. It was a very small changing room so there wasn’t much room to spread out at all and we had our feet around everyone else’s faces etc. They were talking about photos. The photo that we’d submitted for our group came 2nd. They were talking about a few of the others. One of them of the Weddell Sea in the Australian Antarctic (that’s what I said) was won by someone called June Weddell or something. I said that I knew someone of that name with whom I’d been on trips. Someone said that she studied at the OU and I said “yes, that’s the girl”. Of course my friend’s name is quite similar to that but it’s not the same. I said that I’d talk to her about it and find out more about her photo.

One thing that I haven’t mentioned so far is that when I awoke this morning my foot had swollen up again like a balloon and I was in no fit state to go out anywhere. And so instead I’ve been sorting out photos and recovering from my exertions over the last few days. And that has been that.

Darren came home late from work this evening but he found me a bowl in which I can soak my foot tomorrow. And when Rachel returned we had food and a really good chat.

Right now I’m off to bed for a good sleep. And tomorrow I’ll soak my foot and then I’ll take Strider out for a run to see how he goes. It’ll be good to get out and about up and down the road and see what’s happening in the world.

Not to mention the vegan food on offer at Sobey’s. I need to stock up the larder in here for the next few weeks.

Monday 3rd October 2022 – I WAS RIGHT …

… about this journey on the train taking for ever.

As dawn broke and the sun began to lighten up the sky we on board the train are slowly climbing up past Lake Matapedia.

According to the times of this and the previous photograph that I took as we were leaving Montreal in the dusk, we’ve been travelling for just over 11 hours and have covered a distance of about 620 kilometres.

That’s an average speed of just over 56 kilometres per hour, or 35 mph.

Had I been travelling on a long-distance train covering this distance in Mainland Europe, it would have taken about 2.5 hours. It just goes to show how primitive rail travel is over here in North America.

Despite being very uncomfortable last night curled up in my chair, I did manage actually to go to sleep for at least part of the night. That much is evidenced by the stuff that’s on the dictaphone. I can’t remember very much about this first bit but there were some people who were moving house. We entered a lift, a group of us, and they came in behind with a lorry. While the lift was going up they wee busy cleaning a pile of dust out of the filters of this lorry and choking all of us at the back with the dust. I shouted at them to stop only to find that I didn’t have a voice. My voice had gone and I couldn’t make myself heard at all so I approached a little closer but still couldn’t make myself heard. My voice had gone and there was no possibility of expressing myself while we were being choked by this dust that was being cleared out of this filter

And later on I was with Nerina. We were remodelling the kitchen at the Place d’Armes. She decided that instead of the lino she wanted a different kind of floor so she was measuring. It meant moving out the furniture. One of the cupboards was absolutely disgusting. It hadn’t been cleaned for years. It was awful and I said that we would probably need a new cupboard to replace it. She said “let’s not worry about that for now. Let’s do this floor”. She was measuring it and making a list of what she wanted. In the meantime we’d made some vegan hamburgers on bread but they hadn’t turned out very well at all because the hamburger press that we had was not very good. One of Nerina’s friends was there with her husband. He had the idea of needing the hamburger press to put the hamburger press on its bun and then hitting the hamburger press with a hammer. He said that a mallet was what was needed but he couldn’t find one just then but hitting it with a hammer seemed to cut the teeth of the hamburger press through the bread as well as through the hamburger meat and was making these nice hamburgers. They thought that that was really impressive to hit it with a hammer

As we climbed into the Matapedia Valley the day gradually lightened and I took several photos of the landscape.

Many of them didn’t come out very well, what with the poor light. This was one of the better ones

The movement of the train didn’t help. It wasn’t very steady and we were swaying about considerably. And having seen at various times in the past the miserable state of the track, that’s not a surprise. It’ll probably explain the depressing speed of the train as well.

The state of the locomotives and carriages leaves a lot to be desired as well. Canada’s lack of commitment to an efficient, reliable, comfortable and rapid public transport system is quite an embarrassment for a developed country

It’s slowly becoming lighter and lighter as we push on alongside the Matapedia River. The sun is rising slowly up above the horizon.

Our train is now slowly heading down the river valley that cleaves through the Appalachian Mountains and towards the Baie des Chaleurs and the border with New Brunswick.

Even though we’ll soon be in New Brunswick we still have a long way to go before we arrive in Moncton, and I have a long way to go after that before I arrive at my final destination

The Matapedia River valley was an old route de portage used by the courreurs de bois travelling between Nouvelle France and Acadie, and a long time before that by the mi’kmaq people.

There are plenty of settlements alongside the shores of the river and the river would have been an important freight artery before the arrival of the railway and the road.

This here at the side of the road in the town of Matapedia looks as if it might have once been some kind of barge. However it was probably built much-more recently than those days.

It doesn’t look as if it will ever go back into the water though, even if it might once have come out of it.

The town, such as it is, of Matapedia is also listed as being one of the stops on the railway line between Montreal and Halifax.

There is actually a railway station here but we didn’t stop long enough to alight to take a photograph. Never mind though, because I’ve photographed it when I’ve driven through here in the past and one day I’ll sort out my photos.

Ln the old days when passenger trains ran down the Gaspé Peninsula, this was the junction for the line. But those days are of course a long time ago. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that on ONE OF OUR PREVIOUS VISITS TO GASPE we even found a complete train, locomotives, carriages and all, stranded at Gaspé station after they had cut the line in front of it.

Pulling out of the railway station we crossed over the Restigouche River, into which the Matapedia River has joined, into New Brunswick

A little further on we catch a glimpse of the Matapedia Bridge, over which we have travelled by car along New Brunswick Highway 11 on many occasions in the past.

The bridge was built in 1974 and is 419 metres long. The border between the provinces is in the middle.

Talk about bridging the river around here seems to have begun in 1847 when a report was made on the state of the roads in the area, and there was certainly a bridge across here in the 1940s.

There are photos and postcards of that bridge and I’ve seen some of them, but I’ve not been able to find out much information about that one.

In late morning we finally grind into the railway station at Campbellton where the train comes to a halt.

From the train there’s a beautiful view of the Van Horne Bridge across the Restigouche River to the Gaspé Peninsula and the province of Québec.

It’s another bridge over which we’ve travelled on many occasions in the past.

Named for the New Brunswick Member of Parliament Joseph van Horne, it was built between 1958 and 1961 and is 805 metres long. Finance was provided by the Provinces of New Brunswick and Quebec and the Federal Government.

Previously there was a ferry across here as well as another ferry further downriver at Dalhousie, the remains of which WE HAVE VISITED IN THE PAST but by the 1950s they were totally inadequate to handle the volume of traffic that wanted to cross.

We’re told that we’ll be stopped here for half an hour, presumably for a crew change and a refuelling, so we’re allowed to leave the train and go for a wander.

Outside the station there’s a good view of Sugarloaf Mountain. We’ve seen this before on a couple of occasions when we’ve come this way by road in the past.

It’s actually a volcano, so I’m told, and is 922 feet high.

According to tradition, it’s actually a fossilised beaver. Glooscap, a legendary figure among the Mi’kmaq people, discovered a beaver blocking a river and so depriving the area’s inhabitants of their food supply so Glooscap plucked him out of the water and threw him onto land, and Sugarloaf Mountain is the beaver fossilised remains.

There are several interesting legends about Glooscap but there is one that especially intrigues me.

The native Americans recount a story about how Glooscap witnessed a group of people, strangers to the area, who were washed ashore with their damaged canoe somewhere on the coast of Nova Scotia.

The strangers then planted trees inside their canoe and then departed.

And if there’s a better description anywhere by native peoples of strangers repairing a damaged ship and erecting masts so that they can sail away, I’d love to see what it would be.
viarail carriage Campbellton railway station new brunswick Canada Eric Hall photo October 2022 While I’m here I’ll go to have a look at my train.

It’s just as well that I’m photographing it for posterity because it might not be here much longer. The frequency of trains is reducing year by year and it won’t be long, I reckon, before ViaRail cancels it completely.

Viarail complains that ridership is falling off and that it’s no longer economical to run it, but I do have to say that this is absolutely no surprise to me.

Quite frankly, this rail service is an embarrassment to a Developed Country such as Canada.

By my reckoning, we’ve travelled roughly 750 kilometres. The photo that I took on leaving Montreal was timed at 06:10 and on pulling into Campbellton it was 19:02. That’s roughly 13 hours.

In other words, the average speed to date is 57.5 kilometres per hour, or 36mph. And that is just a total disgrace.

In Europe we have probably 100 long-distance trains travelling at 300 kilometres per hour several times per day and on one occasion, when a driver was encouraged to give a train her head just to see what she could do, it was clocked at 574.4 kilometres per hour.

What’s happening in Canada is one of the oldest tricks in the book and those of us who live in Europe have seen it all a dozen times before.

The oil lobby buys up the politicians, the politicians refuse to invest in the railway network, the railway system falls apart, the passengers walk away. And then the oil lobby goes “there you are – we told you that no-one wants a railway network”.

This shambolic, primitive, embarrassing railway system that disgraces a nation is bleeding customers, but the high-speed trains in Europe are regularly sold out

So abandoning another good rant for now, our train eventually pulls out of the station.

The next hour or so will see us running along the shores of the Baie des Chaleurs towards the Northunmberland strait that separates the mainland from Prince Edward Island

The bay was the scene of one of the most famous – or infamous (depending on whose side you are on) – sea battles that took place in 1760

Despite what you might have learnt at school, Wolfe’s successful attack on Québec did not signify the end of French rule in North America.

Montreal as well as much of the coast of Acadie, including the Baie des Chaleurs were still in French hands. In fact a French relief force sent to recapture the city of Québec had overwhelmed the British at the Battle of Sainte-Foy and pinned them down within the city walls.

The race was then on. Would the British fleet reach the city first, bringing relief to the besieged forces, or would the French fleet arrive first, bringing supplies and reinforcements to the besiegers?

In fact, it was the British fleet that arrived first. The captain of the French fleet decided to put into the Baie des Chaleurs in order to plan his next move and while he was there, to feed and arm the Acadian settlers.

In the meantime a British naval force had left LOUISBOURG in Nova Scotia on the train of the French ships and found them in the Bay.

Battle commenced on 27th July 1760 and over the next few days the British slowly pushed the French upriver and eventually, realising that there was no escape, the French scuttled two of their three ships and retreated to the shore.

The heavily-armed Acadians prevented the British from landing but the French maritime threat was ended. On 8th September 1760 Montreal surrendered and the Acadians surrendered on 28th October.

Since then, there have been several reported sightings of what is said to be a burning ghost ship, believed by many to be a phantom figure of one of the French ships and by others to relate to several other maritime incidents that took place in the bay back in the days of sail.

The Baie des Chaleurs is also the border between Québec and New Brunswick. To the north is Québec and we are in New Brunswick.

Nevertheless, the predominant language around here is French. As I hinted earlier on, we’re actually in what would have been known as “Acadie” in the 17th and 18th Centuries, named for the famous Arcadia of Greek legend and the et in Arcadia ego of the mysterious LEGEND OF RENNES-LE CHATEAU

What is today the province of New Brunswick was settled by the French but a whole series of wars with firstly the Dutch and secondly with the British (and in the past we’ve swarmed over the sites of several battles) resulted in the province being taken permanently by the British.

Much is made of the “expulsion of the Acadians” as hostilities finally drew to a close but accounts quite often omit the reason for the expulsion – namely that those expelled had refused to take an unconditional oath of loyalty to the British crown – and the situation is really no different than any other occupation of any other territory in the World by anyone else.

Don’t forget that 30 million Germans were forcibly expelled from their homes as recently as the period 1945-1948 without even being given the opportunity to take an oath of allegiance to the new Power occupying their lands.

But returning to Acadie, the western part of New Brunswick is English-speaking, due in part (but not exclusively) to its occupation by “Empire Loyalists” who were expelled from their homes over across the border in the USA following the American War of Independence.

In 1784 the British colony of New Brunswick was created, distinct from that of Nova Scotia and in 1867 it became part of the Canadian Confederation, a decision regretted by many who feel much more empathy with the people of Maine and Vermont “over across” the border..

You’ll read a great many stories about how New Brunswick was the poorest of the Canadian Provinces until recently, and while it is true in the literal sense, it’s rather misleading.

The North-West Territories and Nunavut are territories, not Provinces and the Province of Newfoundland and Labrador was only admitted to the Confederation as recently as 1949.

If those areas were taken into account we’d see a completely different picture. Those areas are far poorer than New Brunswick

While we’ve been discussing the situation about New Brunswick we’ve been drifting down along the shore of Northumberland Strait and we’ve come into the town of Miramichi.

After leaving the railway station we have to cross over the Miramichi River on the way south.

Here just inland from the town the river branches into two arms. We are at the moment crossing over the northwest branch of the river.

It’s a shame that we can’t actually see the bridge because it’s a magnificent steel girder structure that was constructed in the early 1870s and was the first bridge to cross the Miramichi River

After a brief rattle across a small strip of land we pass over the bridge that spans the southwest arm of the river.

Each of the two bridges consists of 3 spans, and the total combined length of the crossing is 2400 feet, a length that made it the second longest river crossing at the time, surpassed only by the Victoria Bridge across the St Lawrence at Montreal..

Rarely for the time, the bridges were built of iron instead of wood, which was much more usual back in those days. The Victoria Bridge, incidentally, was a metal bridge too.

At long last our train finally staggers into Moncton Station where I’m going to be catching my bus northwards.

One of the two locomotives that is pulling the train is 6407, one of 52 EMD F40PH-2 locomotives currently operated by the company. I imagine that the one in front is a similar locomotive but because of the refuelling taking place, I wasn’t allowed any further forward than this so I couldn’t see which it is

As for 6407, it was involved in a fatal accident on 4th May 2010 when it hit a pick-up on a level crossing in Alberta and killed the 3 passengers of the vehicle.

These locomotives were introduced into service with effect from 1987 and that tells you everything you need to know about the shambolic state of affairs of this national embarrassment.

Even more embarrassing is that we left Montreal at about 06:00 (Central European Time) and pulled into Moncton at about 01:30 CET (time taken from photographs that I took.

That’s 19.5 hours on the train to travel a rough distance of 1095 kilometres, an average speed of 56 kilometres per hour or 35 mph, and despite the fact that there are about 1,030,000 words in the English language, that isn’t enough to express my thoughts on the issue.

For someone who is used to travelling on long-distance trains travelling at speeds of 300 kilometres per hour all that I can realistically say is that the Canadian Government and Viarail need to take a long, hard look at themselves in a mirror sometime.

Viarail complains about passengers deserting its network in droves, but this shambolic and embarrassing service with antediluvian equipment is a national humiliation that speaks for itself

But we’ve seen all of this before on many occasions and we know the reason for it too.

If you want to wash your hands of something, you refuse to invest in it, run it into the ground, it all goes pear-shaped, the passengers desert the sinking ship and then you can say ‘there you are – we said that no-one wants it” and you can close it down with a clear conscience.

As I’ve said, we’ve seen all this before.

Actually the train journey was more comfortable than I had imagined. There was plenty of legroom and reclining seats made it much more comfortable than an aeroplane and I ended up not regretting my choice, apart of course from the time that it took. Having said that, I wouldn’t have liked to be have been screwed up in a budget aeroplane seat for half the amount of time that this journey took.

As for the railway food, I didn’t get to sample any of it. I had my jammy bagels and also a packet of my usual crackers.

There was a tea trolley that came round at regular intervals and the coffee was not as bad as it might have been. And surprisingly, seeing as we were talking about Ukrainians, there was a Ukrainian refugee and her small children on the train just in front of them so I offered them drinks. I bet she was surprised to hear someone talking Pidgin Russian on board the train. I really must improve my Russian.

We’re actually late arriving in Moncton, which is apparently no surprise to anyone. In fact they considered that to be something of an achievement of which they felt proud. I wasn’t all that bothered because it meant less time to stand around at the terminal for my bus.

That means that my bus is already in and the driver is on his break. I can load my suitcase into the boot and then loiter around at my ease while I wait for things to happen.

The coach itself is a Prevost H3-45 built by a subsidiary of Volvo North America, one of 50 buses delivered this year to Maritime Bus for their operations, and they are quite comfortable.

This one is only 10 weeks old, and already with 50,000km on the clock. They like to work them hard.

In the past I’ve travelled on many of these coaches but usually in the opposite direction.

Before the Pandemic, I’d catch an “Orleans Express” coach from Montreal to Gaspé and alight at Rivière du Loup.

After a wait of about 90 minutes the Maritime Bus from Moncton would pull in and turn round, and I’d board it for its return trip and alight at Florenceville

When inter-provincial transport was cancelled at the start of the Pandemic, the Maritime Bus turned round at Edmundston, 120 kilometres away from Riviere du Loup across the border in New Brunswick and for reasons that only Maritime Bus will understand, the service across the border hasn’t been reinstated

There’s no passenger transport connection so what used to be a 7-hour coach trip has now turned into in an unbelievable 26-hour marathon that I wish that I didn’t have to do

There was time to discuss the situation about the buses with the driver. He seems to think that the issues with going north into Québec from Edmundston arise with Orleans Express who revised the schedule during the Covid lockdown when fewer people were travelling and now can’t – or won’t – reinstate it. And so the there’s an appropriate connection.

However there’s some good news. It appears that it’s a licensed service, the timing of the run from Québec City to Rivière-du-Loup that corresponds with the bus from Moncton to Rivière-du-Loup. It’s due for renewal in January and if it’s not actually operating, then the licence is forfeit. Coach Atlantic is well-aware of the potential here and the company will lodge a demand to take over the service if Orleans Express lets it fall by the wayside.

One bus all the way to Québec City opens up all kinds of new horizons, as long as the stop is actually at the main-line railway station and not at the outlying coach station at Sainte-Foy.

So on the bus, I’m sitting comfortably and we set off north-west.

We join the Trans Canada Highway at the big truckstop at Salisbury and a short while later, in between Jemseg and Corytown, we cross over the St John River.

We’ll be in Fredericton in a short while, so I reckon that we only have a couple of hours of my journey to go before I can find myself deep in the bosom of my family. And I can’t say that I’ll be sorry to stretch myself out I don’t think that I’ve ever been so uncomfortable in my whole life, what with one thing and another.

And once you find the first thing, you’d be surprised how many other things there are.

Our bus ended up being 25 minutes late arriving in Florenceville. There was an unscheduled stop at the airport as well as 2 coffee breaks that were a lot longer than the 10 minutes that he had announced.

My niece was waiting for me and it was lovely to see her after 3 years. Back here she made some food for me while we had a very long chat, and then I went to bed, totally wasted after my day of excitement.

Tomorrow I have to be up at … gulp … 05:45 for a Welsh lesson that starts at 06:00. I must be out of my mind.

Sunday 2nd October 2022 – AS I TYPE …

… these notes I’m sitting in a train that’s rocketing eastwards along the south bank of the St Lawrence River.

For reasons that only they will know and, if the rest of us were to know them, we still wouldn’t understand them, CoachAtlantic has taken off the service that runs between Moncton and Rivière du Loup.

Back in the old days, I would catch the “Orleans Express” bus from Montreal to Gaspé, alight at Rivière du Loup and await 90 minutes for a bus to come in from Moncton and turn round. But that’s no longer possible.

What I’m having to do now is to catch a train that goes to Halifax, alight at Moncton and wait three hours for a bus to take me back north-west. It’s like travelling 270° of a circle and what started off as a journey of about 9 or 10 hours has now become a journey of 26 hours.

Any British person who is complaining about the effects of Dr Beeching on the British railway network would have apoplexy if ever he were to examine the Canadian railway network. There is only one passenger train east of Québec in the whole country and I’m on it. There is absolutely nothing else. And although I paid for four nights in my hotel I only ended up staying for three because this train only runs a couple of days per week.

And that’s the Canadian National Railway. The whole of the Canadian Pacific network east of Québec, freight as well as passengers, has been ruthlessly hacked off, every inch of it. There’s a railway station right at the back of Rachel and Darren’s mill but that hasn’t seen a train since 1982.

And that’s why you’ll see a lot of “misinformation” about “The First Transcontinental Train” going from Montreal to Vancouver. In its embarrassment, Canadian Pacific is trying its best to shove under the carpet the fact that it had at one time a huge network in the Maritime Provinces.

And if anyone is wondering why I’m not flying, I’m refusing flat-out to pay … gulp … $1335 for me and my baggage.

If you don’t have a car in Canada, you are really in some extreme kind of difficulty and for that reason I’m seriously thinking of selling Strider and going back to hiring a vehicle at the airport. I can’t do this kind of journey again under any circumstances.

But retournons à nos moutons as they say around here, I was wide-awake, and in total agony by the way, at 06:30 and I went off to have my medication.

And having dealt with that I could get on with what I had to do. And while I was doing it, I was sitting with my right foot in a bucket of ice-cold water. I have to do something to try to improve my foot.

There was some stuff on the dictaphone from last night. I was going away with a girl but first of all I had to go back to the office to pick up my car, the beige MkIV that we had. When I arrived there, parked outside was the chocolate brown one with Nerina sitting in it. I had to basically chivvy her up out of the car so that I could get in and take it away with me as I had a ferry arranged for later that night. She said that I couldn’t go yet as there was a problem with a couple of the cars. The beige one had just quite suddenly cut out. She did say what was up with the second. The way that she described it, it was simply a wire off the beige one that I could fix in a matter of seconds. Then she said that one of the drivers had all the wages. I asked “which driver?” so she gave me a name but I didn’t recognise that driver. I asked about the rest and she said that it was in our lock-up. I thought that I’d better go and collect that. She said “you’ll need to go quickly before they go and fetch it”. I set off but I had to go back and ask where the lock-up was. She told me then I had to go back to ask which lock-up it was. I could see this lasting for hours, not finding the money, not fixing the car, not going away.

Later on, Mrs Ukraine was asking me why I was so interested in the fate of refugees in France. I explained briefly to her the story of my mother as a child being evacuated with 10 minutes notice to go to live with strangers. I told her all that story. Then I was on patrol with the Ukrainian Army but in France. They had found the coast and were making more of it. A helicopter then flew in. The first thing that it did was to winch out my brother. I imagined that I’d be next but it looked as if someone else was preparing to go, a woman. In the meantime my brother and two people were standing on a cloud playing football. As other people started to be winched in one of the guys came up to me to say that he needed a cannon. They had to make certain what it was that he actually wanted. It turned out to be a self-propelled armoured vehicle with something bigger than an 0.762mm machine gun. I said that I’d try to see what I could find for them and started thinking in my head about people I knew who might actually have that kind of equipment and I’d go along and negotiate it out of them.

As for the story about my mother, regular readers of this rubbish in a previous version will recall having seen a photo of where my mother lived as a child. It’s a small terraced house at the side of the road in Birchington in Kent, about 200 yards away from the end of the runway of Manston Airfield which was a major RAF base. At the fall of France and the first stick of Luftwaffe bombs dropping on the airfield, all of the children in the vicinity, my mother and her younger sister included, were rounded up with 10 minutes notice, put on a train and evacuated. My mother and my aunt ended up living in Somerset with people whom they didn’t know and had never met, with just one small suitcase each. Listening to my mother’s stories, what happened to them must have been an appalling nightmare for little kids like them and as a result I have a great deal of empathy for anyone else fleeing from their homes under a stick of bombs, no matter who they are and where they are.

Another thing that I did was to have a shower and to clean myself up ready to leave, and then to tidy up my room. And in many senses I’m sorry to leave this place. It’s much smaller than the place where I stay in Leuven but it’s much more modern and better-equipped. Had I been more mobile this place would have been pretty high up on my list of places to stay but the stairs killed me off.

My foot had gone down somewhat and it was easier to walk about. Putting on my elastic stocking made it go down a little more and although it was still difficult to put on my shoe, I was able to move around a little better than I did yesterday and that was a relief.

On my way to the station I stopped for a quick snack before getting on the Metro. It’s as well to have some food before leaving because I’m not sure what the arrangements for food will be on the train. There is a restaurant car on board but whether there will be anything that I can eat, or whether I can actually afford it anyway if there is, are interesting questions.

At the station I had to check in my suitcase witn STRAWBERRY MOOSE on board and then wait for boarding. I declared myself as in need of assistance so someone accompanied me down the escalator – It’s a long, steep drop to the bottom if I fall.

We’ve SEEN VIARAIL TRAINS BEFORE when we were in Halifax and they seemed to be are absolutely ancient and in poor state of repair.

These days, nothing much seems to have changed. And that’s not all. The interiors are like something out of the 1960s, all leather and chrome, but it looks to be supremely comfortable.

Having had assistance to board, I was one of the first to find a seat. The train ended up to be crowded although I was one of the lucky few who didn’t have a neighbour. Mind you, someone is sitting right behind me with a couple of toddlers by which time it was too late to change seats. It’s going to be a long, noisy night.

After what seemed like for ever, our train pulled out slowly from the railway station and we eventually found ourselves out in the open air.

It was going dark quite quickly and as the train looped round to the south to cross over the St Lawrence there was a really nice view of the city with all of the buildings illuminated.

We aren’t exactly in a hurry. It’s not what you call high-speed travel. In Europe this kind of pace would be embarrassing. It’s going to be a very long journey, I reckon, but at least I was right about the seats. They are comfortable and I have two to myself so I can spread out.

Something else that I can tell you about Viarail and the Canadian National railway network, such as it is, is that passenger trains have a very low priority. By the time we’d gone an hour out of Montreal, already we’d ground to a halt twice to give precedence to freight trains.

Having now had a coffee, I’m going to settle down while it’s quiet. I’ll probably be awoken a dozen times during the night so I need to take advantage of whatever quiet I can find.

Saturday 1st October 2022 – THAT WAS HORRIBLE

I awoke this morning with my right foot swollen up like a balloon and with pain the like of which I haven’t felt before. I’ve no idea what has happened because despite all of my meanderings yesterday there wasn’t a hint of this happening.

As a result, most of the day has been spent in bed with my foot up, doing not very much at all. It’s a good job that I went to the shops for food supplies when I arrived because at least, I have stuff to eat and drink even if it means staggering around in the room a little

There was some stuff on the dictaphone too from last night. This dream concerned someone who was driving a car and came to an area where there was a strike. He understood that when he reached the strike he had to leave the road and re-join the road where this strike was over. He didn’t realise that he could do things differently. People started to call him names about it being stupid so he went to tell the Police. He met a policeman at the traffic lights where he had been at the start. He got into his car and drove to this policeman while he was telling this policeman his story. The policeman was surprised and asked this guy what he wanted him to do. The guy said that he was annoyed at people calling him names and being stupid. The policeman said that there wasn’t an awful lot about that that could be done but this guy was rather insistent. He’d been driving around for quite a while while this guy was telling the policeman his story.

There had been some kind of kidnapping. A couple of people had been taken. The gang that did it – I managed to track them down. I was about to make some kind of arrest. They had a secret code number which was 2568. How I knew about this I really can’t remember. There was a sudden knock at the door. Someone wrote something down on a pad so I had the burnt tip of a match and rubbed it on the pad and it came up with the number 2568 so I opened the door wide but stepped right back. It revealed a guy whom I knew but I hadn’t quite connected him with this kidnapping affair. He came in but in the confusion I was hit on the head and knocked out. In the meantime these people disappeared and ended up on a deserted World War II airfield hidden between bales of hay in a tent or two. Their plan was to move people out early in the morning. I had the impression from what they were saying although I wasn’t there that “moving them out” meant that some of them would be flown away, the valuable ones, and the others would be quietly liquidated

Later on I was back at home again in a kind of bunk bed with instead of being a bed there was a shelf over the top. On my bed were a load of files all in red filing covers. I started to arrange some o the shelf but very slowly. I thought “this is going to take for ever. What I need is a wild fit of enthusiasm” so I suddenly leapt up and started to grab these files with the aim of filing them all on the shelf quite rapidly but I awoke instead.

Something else that I did was to go through the 40 or so photos that I took yesterday and to carry out a little research on what I’d seen.

Later on in the afternoon, in extreme agony, I hobbled out and on the metro to the Bonaventure railway station. Tomorrow evening I have to be at the Central Railway Station so I needed to work out a plan and to check the route.

The agony was indescribable so I won’t try to describe it and the walk was ridiculous. It’s one thing that I’ve said so many times about the Metro in Montreal is that it goes where it was convenient for the planners to put it, not at all convenient for where the passengers want to go. As I result I had to drag myself through a labyrinth of corridors, making several wrong turns because the signposting is awful.

It’s not built for disabled people either. There are several escalators in there, that’s true, but for one at least of the escalators you have to walk up half a dozen steps to reach it and that totally defeats the whole purpose of the escalator.

At the station I found a very helpful member of staff who told me everything that I needed to know and gave me a few tips and hints too, so it was well-worth the effort to go there.

The stagger back home was no less painful and I was glad to collapse on the bed again. Rosemary rang and we had another one of our marathon chats. These internet-based telephone services are worth their weight in gold.

Later on I made another coffee, had another bowl of muesli and a bagel with jam and went to bed. I’d done enough today. Let’s hope that there will be an improvement tomorrow

Friday 30th September 2022 – OUCH!

That was painful. I’ve just come back from an afternoon out where despite having a broken kneecap I’ve walked an agonising 116% of my daily total today.

At least last night I’d had a good sleep. This is one of the most comfortable beds in which I’ve ever slept and I really would have enjoyed it even more had I not left the alarm to ring at 07:30 this morning i.e. just 3 or so hours after I went to bed.

However no danger whatsoever of me leaving the bed at that time. Even 11:48, or 05:48 around here when I finally did surface was probably an exaggeration.

After the medication I updated the blog so you can now find out where I went yesterday and then I went for a shower and a clothes-washing.

And I forgot all about the phenomenon of “Québec Showers”.

“What are “Québec Showers”?” I hear new readers ask.
Regular readers of this rubbish will know all about “Québec Showers”. That’s where you see C and F on the taps and you think that they mean Chaud and Froid but they actually mean “Cold” and “Freezing”.

Actually, despite the foregoing, the shower is quite nice. It washed me and my clothes a treat.

Another thing that I’d done was to send a few messages to various people and as a result I went out at 11:40.

The last time that we were here in the rue St Herbert there was a big hole in the ground just down the road from the hotel – the brick-built building to the left – where I usually stay.

When we wandered past this morning we noticed that a huge tower block of apartments had mushroomed up to fill the hole and by the looks of things everyone has already moved in. It didn’t take them long to throw it up.

It’s probably a quite popular, and quite expensive place right across the road from the Berri-UQAM metro station.

Down at the Metro station at Berri-UQAM I met Dorothée. She was a young girl whom I met in New Brunswick while she was on a school exchange and we kept in touch. She’s now studying at the University of Montreal and so she nipped out in her lunch break to meet me.

We had a lengthy chat that went on for two hours, chatting all about old times and so on, and then she had to leave for a lecture.

After Dorothée left to go back to University I went to sit outside in the sun for an hour. At least I have some nice weather for it.

The crowds are out today loitering around in the place Emilie Gamelin making the most of the good weather before the leaves turn golden and begin to drop off.

And who was Emilie Gamelin when she was at home, if she ever was?

She was the founder of the Sœurs de la Providence de Montréal, one of the many religious orders that existed in Québec. She contracted cholera during the epidemic of 1851 and died shortly afterwards.

Once I’d recovered from my exertions I made my way to the Gare Berri-UQAM and caught the Metro to Place d’Armes for a wander around the square and the cathedral.

The cathedral was built in the 1820s to the design of James O’Donnell but since then has been amended considerably. The two towers, for example, were designed by John Ostell and were erected in the early 1840s.

Since then further alterations have taken place and a programme of restoration began in 1979 following an arson attack the previous year.

Before the basilique was erected there was an earlier church on the site of what is now the Place d’Armes that was demolished in 1830.

The Place d’Armes is now the home of Paul de Chomedey de Maisonneuve, one of the founders of Montréal, or Ville-Marie as it was known back in his day.

He comes from the region of Troyes in France and regular readers of this rubbish will recall that on one of our visits to the town we went to have a look AT HIS FAMILY HOME.

The site of VIlle-Marie was established after several confrontations with the First-Nation tribes.

Both Cartier and Champlain encountered settlements of Iroquois in the immediate area and once the first colonists arrived here in 1642 they attempted to push out the Iroquois.

On 30th March 1644 there was a confrontation in the immediate vicinity between a party of settlers and a band of Iroquois that ended inconclusively.

Although the war with the First nations raged on for another 50-odd years this confrontation is considered by some to be the decisive moment in the establishment of the European settlement of Ville-Marie.

Of course, these days times have changed.

European exploitation and mistreatment of autochtone inhabitants is being rightly recognised for what it was and the rights of the autochtones to defend their land, their settlements and their way of life are being rightly recognised as the heroic struggle that it was.

For that reason, the placing of a plaque to acknowledge that is long overdue and I’m surprised to see that we had to wait until 2019 to see it.

It’s not of course the first time that we’ve seen something similar.

When we were at the Little Big Horn battlefield we encountered memorial stones to the native Americans who “died defending the Lakota way of life” and when I finish editing all of the photos YOU’LL SEE THEM.

As well as that, when we were in Santa Fe we saw a plaque that spoke in extremely dismissive, if not offensive terms of the native Americans, with an explanatory and apologetic plaque attached at its side.

Times indeed are a-changin’

Despite all of the times that i’ve come to Montréal I’ve never managed to take a decent photograph of Le Vieux Séminaire De Saint-Sulpice

There has always been scaffolding around it, or lorries parked in front of it, or pedestrians who won’t get out of the way, and today is no exception.

It’s important to take a photo of it because it is said to be the oldest surviving building in Montréal, dating from the 1680s and the members of the Sulpician Order took up occupancy in 1685.

There’s said to be some very historic archives in there with records going back to the 16th Century and how I would love to lose myself inside there for a couple of days.

From the Place d’Armes I went for a wander through the old town down to the old part of the port to see what’s going on.

There aren’t very many commercial freighters that use the old part of the port these days and the freight facilities are pretty much derelict. Instead they’ve constructed a huge modern cruise ship terminal and we’ve seen plenty of cruise ships in here in the past.

And there’s another cruise ship in there today. I’ll have to go for a wander to see who she is and what she’s doing here.

You can see what I mean about the cruise terminal.

It looked quite a tempting sight for me to go to visit but there were quite a few security guards loitering around who wouldn’t let anyone past who didn’t have a boarding card. They didn’t seem to welcome anyone who might be seen as a potential stowaway .

But it does hold a special fascination for me because it was probably somewhere around here that my great grandparents first set foot ashore in Canada when they emigrated from here after my great grandfather’s military service ended.

So it looks as if we have two for the price of one here.

Firstly, let’s mention the oil tanker that’s here fuelling up the cruise ship. She’s called Juno Marie.

She was built in 2004 and displaces about 2000 tonnes. That’s not very much but she presumably just runs around the port fuelling up the ships that call in here.

We’ve seen her before, in AUGUST 2018 in fact when we were passing through Montreal on the way to the Arctic, when she was also fuelling up a cruise ship that was calling here.

As for the cruise ship herself, she’s called Amera

She was built in 1988, displaces about 35,000 tonnes and carries a total of 835 passengers and 440 crew.

A week ago she was at St Anthony and then St John’s in Newfoundland and since then she’s been sailing up the St Lawrence River, having done a lap around the Saguenay Fjord at one point with a port of call at a small town called Port Alfred.

She arrived here in Montreal earlier this afternoon.

In the meantime, having seen Juno Marie just now coiling in her pipes and setting sail out of the berth she’s now heading off downriver.

What I imagine that she’s doing is going to the storage tanks at the port to fuel up ready for her next client. She’s the kind of ship that’s being kept busy.

The crane on her deck will probably be for swinging the hose out to the ship that she would be fuelling. Modern fuelling hoses are reinforced these days and would be quite heavy.

Amera is not the only cruise ship in port this afternoon.

This one is Viking Star who is basically following in the footsteps, or, more appropriately, the wake of Amera, although she put in at Sydney on Cape Breton Island last week on her way around.

Launched in 2014, she is the flagship of the Viking Line. Displacing 48,000 tonnes, she can carry 902 passengers and 602 crew

Her relatively compact size means that she can fit into some ports into which other cruise ships can’t fit, although the town of Bourne in Massachussetts will certainly have one or two remarks to make about that.

Another ship that’s in port today is the VM S Hercules

She’s described as a floating crane and is owned by the St Lawrence Seaway Management Corporation. Believe it or not, she was actually built in 1961 by Marine Industries of Sorel, just down the river, and displaces 2100 tonnes

She’s not actually a ship, in the general way of things. She’s more like a large floating pontoon with an enormous crane on top so she’s probably used for maintenance and recovery rather than for unloading freighters that arrive in port.

If you had come here 50 years ago the waterfront scene would have been completely different.

All along the port would have been grain silos like these, dozens of them. All of the grain from the Great Plains would have arrived here and been stored in the silos ready to be shipped to Europe.

However in 1959 the opening of the St Lawrence Seaway has permitted larger ships to sail further inland via the Great Lakes

As well as that, with there being a railway line between Winnipeg and Churchill on the shore of the Hudson Bay, because of global warming the Bay is ice-free long enough for the grain to be shipped out of Churchill. Because of the curvature of the earth, it’s a much shorter and less-complicated route to Europe.

One thing that regular readers of this rubbish will recall as a common feature is photographs of people taking photographs.

And, not to be out-done, this afternoon down at the old port we come across not one or two but probably a whole dozen people here down in the port taking photographs of a young lady.

It goes without saying that seeing everyone here, I couldn’t resist taking a photograph of them all myself.

There’s no doubt and judging by all of the equipment that the photographers have, cameras as well as lighting equipment, it looks very much as if I’ve stumbled upon some kind of outdoor photography class.

That much seems to be evident by all of the photographers standing around exchanging information about settings and apertures and the like.

Usually, most photographers guard their settings quite jealously. They are very persoonal and it’s quite oftten the difference between half an aperture or a tenth of a second that can transform a good photograph into a great one

As far as I could tell, in my mind that she’s a professional model being moved around as her photographers think fit.

But whoever the model is, she doesn’t look all that comfortable sitting there on the back of that bench. However the model seems to be enjoying herself, being the centre of attention with all of those guys around her. And who can blame her?

Had there been a pause in the session I’d have gone to have a chat with her but as they were all so busy and I was pushed for time I left them to it and wandered away.

Pushed for time indeed.

As you might expect with a working port and a very large country to service, there’s a thriving network around here and it’s connected to the railway network at each end of the docks.

And having heard the rhythmic clanking of the bell at the level crossing that told me that there was a train on its way.

It’s a double-headed train with two locomotives. That tells us IF OUR OBSERVATIONS IN WYOMING In 2002 are anything to go by, that it’s half a mile long.

The locomotive at the head of the train is painted in Canadian National Railway colours and is numbered 4135

That tells us that she was built by the Electro-Motive Diesel Company or EMD, a subsibuary (at least, in 2022 because the company changes hands often) of the Caterpillar equipment company

She’s a GP-9, or the ninth version of their general-purpose locomotives and was built as long ago as December 1957

Her actual designation is that she’s a GP9RM, the RM indicating that at some point in the past she’s been rebuilt and so no longer complies with the manufacturer’s specifications. Not that that’s a surprise for a locomotive that’s almost as old as I am.

As for exactly how she’s been rebuilt, that’s impossible for anyone really to say. Someone who seems to know what he’s talking about tells me that “no two rebuild programs were identical”.

The one behind is a much more modern locomotive, at least by Canadian standards.

She’s another EMD machine, this time a GP38-2 version, built between 1972 and 1986.

She’s currently wearing the livery of GATX, the General American Transport Company founded in Chicago in 1898 to lease railway wagons to rail shipment companies.

Since then the company has branched out into the leasing of locomotives and other railway equipment.

Unfortunately I can’t tell you too much about her. The company doesn’t tell us too much about the history of its locomotives.

There doesn’t seem to be too much information about her by reference to the fleet number either. It’s quite possible that she’s been renumbered at some point in her history

At the rear of the train is a caboose in which the guard sits.

In Europe it would be called a guard’s van and a caboose would probably be known as the offspring of a Native American woman.

One of the purposes of the guard’s presence is to keep an eye on the level crossings to make sure that no vehicle or pedestrian tries to force a passage across in front of the oncoming train. Traffic control along here isn’t very efficient.

Here’s something that we’ve been noticing as we’ve been coming here in the late summer over the years

The big wheel has become something of a major attraction here in the port since its erection in 2017 to celebrate the 375th anniversary of the founding of the city.

It’s 60 metres high, has 24 cabins and cost $28 million, which was apparently financed by a group of private investors. It operates all through the year thanks to its heating system and resistance to strong winds, and can carry a fulll load of 336 people.

Another attraction here in the port of Montreal is the Tyrolean Zip wire.

It’s the longest urban zipline in Canada apparently at 365 metres and is 25 metres from the ground.

Something that is unusual as far as any European in concerned is to see an upper weight limit on equipment such as this. It’s something that wouldn’t usually concern anyone but, I suppose, being situated close to the border with the USA, it’s of some kind of importance.

On the way down to the port I came by the Marché Bonsecours.

The site itself was one of the most important in the city and after the fire in 1833 that destroyed the house of brewer John Molson that was situated here the municipality bought it.

From 1844-1847 the present building was erected here as a market to the designs of William Footner to replace the older Marché St Anne.

Following the riots that led to the burning down of the Parliament building in 1849 the delegates met here for a while and once another Parliament building was inaugurated the Municipal council met here until 1878.

Today, it’s now a commercial centre with boutique-type shops and cafes.

It’s also used as a space for exhibitions of art and the like, and rooms are available for hire by the public.

It’s really very hard to believe that a building such as this was at one time left derelict and in 1963 there was even a proposal for its demolition. But as we’ve seen so many times in North America, there doesn’t seem to be the same pride in the patrimony as in other parts of the world.

So abandoning another good rant for the moment, I’m going to wander down to the waterfront.

We’ve seen this building many times in the past. It’s the Memorial Clock Tower, one of the typical symbols of Montreal and is a monument or memorial to the Canadan sailors who lost their lives during World War I

The tower was designed by Paul Leclaire and was built between 1919 and 1922. The mechanism is based on the mechanism that works Big Ben in London.

You wouldn’t have had this view of it in 1922 though. As I mentioned elsewhere, the Port of Montreal was formerly one of the leading grain exporting ports and the area in front of the tower where you can see all the trees was formerly the site of yet more grain sheds.

While I was busily admiring the Memorial Clock Tower, I noticed a ship coming upriver so I decided to loiter around to see who she might be.

The ship to the left is hidden by a wharf so I can’t see her name and by the time I’d checked on my maritime radar she had left, but the one heading my way is called Oceanex Connaigra

You can tell by the writing on the hull that she’s owned by the Oceanex company.

When I returned to my hotel I had a quick look to see what I could find out about the company.

It’s based in St John’s in Newfoundland and its mission statement is to provide transportation services between the Atlantic coast of North America and Newfoundland and Labrador, from whole shiploads to individual vehicles

It’s been carrying on this business in one form or another since 1909

As for the ship herself, she was built in 2013 in Germany

She displaces 26,000 tonnes, is 210 metres long and has a draught of 8.45 metres. She cost the company $108 000 000 to purchase. The company chairman told me that to fuel her up would cost $1 800 000 and that was a long time ago too. God knows what it would cost now.

According to the records of the maritime radar, she seems to operate a shuttle service between St John’s and Montreal.

What caught my eye about her was the fact that she can transport “individual vehicles”.

And so as she sailed past I was expecting to see that she had some kind of Ro-Ro configuration, and I was rather interested to see that she does have that capability.

But what I found even more interesting is that she is licenced to carry 27 passengers too. Are you thinking what i’m thinking? I shall have to go and sweep the dust off Strider.

On the way back to my hotel I went past the site of the Gare Dalhousie

It’s a national monument because, as a plaque on the side of the wall proudly proclaims, "the first regular transcontinental train departed from this place 28th June 1886".

However, that’s a complete and absolute fabrication, as several million people who live in Canada will tell you.

The train left here on that date and headed for Port Moody which is on the Pacific coast. There is another 1250 kilometres that separates Montreal from Halifax on the Atlantic coast and this “first regular transcontinental train” didn’t cover a single kilometre of that distance.

But then again, the people of the Maritime Provinces of Canada are quite used to being totally ignored by anyone further west and so this is absolutely no surprise whatsoever. Nevertheless, it is pretty shameful

The train, and the railway station were run by the Canadian Pacific railway so it seems to be absolutely appropriate that it later came to be the home of the National Circus School. Clowns a-plenty, I should imagine.

At one time the Canadian Pacific had quite an extensive network of lines in the Maritimes but practically overnight in the 1980s the company wiped it out entirely. Maybe the statement on the plaque is Canadian Pacific’s way of trying to hide its embarrassment.

Just down the road from the Gare Dalhousie is my favourite building in the whole of Montreal – the Gare Viger.

Gare Dalhousie only lasted as a passenger terminus until 1898. The Gare Viger, designed by Bruce Price was opened as a railway station, railway offices and hotel.

The hotel closed in 1935 and the rooms were taken over by part of the administration of the city who stayed here until 2006, having bought out the rest of the building when the Canadian Pacific ceased operations from here in 1951.

When we first came past here in 2010 it was boarded up and derelict. We’ve been slowly watching the renovations take place and much of it now is let as offices. But there’s still a lot to do with the building if it’s to be restored to its former glory.

A very slow, very agonising (and I do mean “slow and agonising”) walk brought me all the way back to Berri-UQAM – a walk that would usually take me about 15 minutes but today took me about an hour – and I caught a metro train back to Cote-Vertu.

When I’d been there yesterday I’d seen a pizza place that sold pizza by the topping so I chose one that didn’t include cheese. And it really was delicious.

There’s a fruit wholesaler there as well so I stocked up with grapes and bananas

On the way back I was feeling rather better and I moved a little easier. The climb up the stairs was ever so slightly easier but they had changed the code on the front door here and it was quite an effort to persuade someone to open the door for me.

Once inside I had a listen to the dictaphone. We were discussing one of my father’s old vans last night. When we were kids we had a Bedford Utilabrake, CA Bedford and had it for a couple of years. It was as rotten as hell and it went on its way eventually. We were chatting about it last night and much of that which we discussed we talked was actually quite accurate which was a big surprise

So having written up my notes I’ll go to bed. I’ll add in the photos at some other date – there are over 35 photos from today’s walk to edit and sort.

But a good sleep in the comfortable bed will do me good – no alarm until late and sweet dreams (I hope).

So who’s going to disturb me first then.

Thursday 29th September 2022 (cont) – SO HERE I AM

And here he is too. I’m sure you didn’t need me to tell you who is travelling with me, do you?

When the alarm went off this morning I’d already been in and out of the shower. This is usually what happens when I’m setting off to go somewhere, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall. In fact I’d been awake for a lot longer than that. I would have said that I hadn’t actually gone to sleep at all except that there’s something on the dictaphone. And I know that without looking because I remember having to leave my stinking pit to change the batteries in it.

I can’t remember very much about this because of the batteries. It was to do with a person whom I know from University who is in a wheelchair trying to find someone to look after his cat, his old black and white cat before he went off on holiday. There was also a question about a dog as well so we were making jokes about Boudicca, having the dog tied to his wheelchair to pull him along. There was something else in this as well about food. He was looking for someone who had some extra food for some reason that he could take but I don’t really remember all that much about this.

Just by way of a change I’d paid for a breakfast. I don’t normally eat a breakfast but it’s going to be a very long day and the availability of food is not going to be guaranteed. There are supplies in my backpack because I’ve been caught out like this before but nevertheless it’s always best to be as prepared as they can.

They sent a minibus to pick me up and to my embarrassment and shame I couldn’t get into it. I ended up falling into it and I’ve repeated the damage to my right knee. This is certainly not the time and place to be doing that and I shall regret that, I reckon.

At the airport (because of course I’m going by air) it was a long walk down to the check-in and I felt every inch of the way. At the check-in desk there were just four other people. We had been told to be there at least four hours before check-in so we were there on time but the staff didn’t turn up until much later. And one of them, the guy who set out the lanes for the queues, is someone whom I shall remember for a very long time.

After having checked in I then had to go through passport control.

That’s all automated these days. You set into some kind of little cubicle that checks your passport and photographs you. I was thinking that if you and your passport were rejected, the floor would slide open and you’d fall into a pit lined with sharpened sticks.

Mine was okay and I passed through for a physical check. Luckily, my carte de séjour was to hand so they didn’t stamp my passport.

Security was surprisingly painless. They confiscated my little bottle of water. I was half-inclined to ask him about how he felt working right next to a crateful of stuff that he believed to be dangerous or explosive but I decided that gratuitous confrontation was probably not a good idea.

But I sailed through without the slightest problem and that really was quite extraordinary.

This is our trusty steed.

She’s C-FNNQ and the fact that her registration begins with C tells us of course that here in Paris she’s likely to be owned by Air-Canada. And when I say that she’s a Boeing 777-300ER, you have probably worked out where I’m going.

Being as early as I was, there was quite a long wait before we could board. I sat quietly and listened to some music on the computer. Many more power points in the airport than ever there used to be. Currently, the “album of the moment” is of a live acoustic concert by Steve Harley and Nick Pynn and if ever you get to hear “Riding The Waves” from this concert, it contains probably one of the best acoustic guitar/dulcimer solos of all time.

Here’s a better view of my ‘plane, taken at – you guessed it – Pierre L Trudeau Airport at Montreal.

She was built in 2013 and her claim to fame is that on 26th September 2014 she lost all her navigation connections on a flight over the Atlantic. Luckily they were restored soon after and most of the … gulp … 465 people on board knew very little about it.

They would have known much more about it if they hadn’t managed to re-connect the system

We were packed in like sardines and having luckily checked in on line last night I had an aisle seat. I spent the flight either asleep, listening to more music and watching my neighbour playing solitaire – not very well.

The on-board meals were really what you would expect – quite correct as far as airline food goes so my supplies stayed holed up in my backpack.

And here we are fighting our way through immigration in Canada.

Queues for miles and most things automated. But when I finally saw the Immigration officers I was waved through with the most minimal enquiries. Obviously the events of a little over three years ago and which have been preying on my mind a little for all this time were really all for nothing. I suppose that I can go ahead and add in those few days that are missing from my blog.

Queueing then for the luggage, queueing to buy a bus ticket, queueing for the bus, and then queueing in the traffic for a demonstration that was taking place in the streets. And a guy who spent much of the bus ride asking me questions ended up missing his coach connection at the bus station because of all of the delays.

Finding my hotel was another thing. It’s a new place apparently, so new that they haven’t even put up the signs for it.

Consequently I was wandering up and down the street aimlessly for quite a while trying to track it down.

And once I’d finally found it I had to find the check-in instructions, sent by e-mail that of course I hadn’t received previously with being on the road and there being no public internet connection. Walking down to a Tim Horton’s for a free connection isn’t possible at the moment, the way my health is.

In the end, more by luck than judgement, I found what I needed.. I’d asked for a ground-floor room which they had given me, but they didn’t say that you had to walk up one flight of steps to the front door and then down another one inside to my floor.

However, once down here, I found the room to be very nice and comfortable ven if it is a little small.

There’s even a little kitchenette, although I shan’t be using it much with probably the best Indian restaurant in North America just a metro ride away.

Had it not been for the mobility issues I would have been delighted with this place, and I’ll certainly remember it for future visits if my health improves..

Having had a little … errr … relax for half an hour or so I wet to the shops for supplies.

On the way I went past the Place Emilie Gamelin where there was an outdoor table tennis game taking place. It wasn’t the game that interested me as much as the antics of the car that’s in the lower left corner. The driver pulled up, dropped someone off, looked around ready to move off, saw me waiting with my camera, put the handbrake on, took a drink and started to eat a snack.

Fed up of waiting, I walked up the hill 5 yards, took the photo from there and as I moved away, she drove away.

My original plan was to walk down to the river but I decided not to push my luck that far as I’m not very steady on my feet right now. So I decided to go and buy some food instead.

Took me 10 minutes in the IGA to choose the stuff for breakfast, and then about an hour to pay in one of the longest supermarket queues I’ve ever seen

On the way home again I stopped at the Place Emilie Gamelin again.

This time it was the outdoor theatre that excited my attention. Nothing much happening there but there seems to be much more going on in general than ever there used to be.

Going back up the steps with my shopping was too much and I fell down the stairs. Some poor girl tried to pick me up but failed miserably as I was of no help. In the end I dragged myself over to the steps and sitting on one step after another I managed eventually to pull myself upright.

When I finally made it back to my room I had to wash the shopping bag to get rid of the orange juice stains. What a mess that was!

After a long rest I took my life into my hands and headed for the metro. Luckily there are lifts and escalators here at Berri-UQAM and so getting to the platform wasn’t much of a problem although I didn’t enjoy the walk one bit.

I took the Montreal Metro’s orange line westwards to the terminus at Cote-Vertu where there are also passenger lifts to take me upstairs to the street.

From there it was yet another slow walk across a dangerous road junction (which is not the place to fall over at all) to the shopping mall, the Galeries Norgate, on the other side of the rue Decarie.

And why is shopping in North America so boring? Well, when you’ve seen one bunch of shops you’ve seen a mall

I’ll get my coat.

At the back of the shopping mall is the best Indian restaurant in the whole of North America.

It’s still here, which is good news, and not only that, it’s even better. It’s been enlarged so there’s plenty of room to spread out. The vegetable biryani was excellent although the garlic naan wasn’t as good as it might have been. However, this is North America, not North Staffordshire, and you can’t have everything.

Like most places in North America the portions are definitely man-sized … “PERSON-sized” – ed … and I asked for a doggy-bag on leaving. Guess what I’m having for breakfast tomorrow?

The Galeries Norgate are right underneath the flightpath for aeroplanes coming into land at the Pierre L Trudeau airport down the road.

They pass so low overhead that you can almost reach up and touch them. And there are dozens of them too. I’d be quite happy to stand here for a while and watch them but it’s probably not a good idea. There are one or two other people standing on the street corner around here and they certainly aren’t watching the aeroplanes

Consequently, in the best traditions of a well-known British Sunday newspaper of years gone by, “I made my excuses and left”.

Luckily the metro station has its lift because that was the only way I could make it back. And at Berri-UQAM it was a long, slow crawl home.

Now I’m off to bed even though it’s not quite 22:00. But in real time that’s 04:00 tomorrow and that means my day has been almost 24 hours with just a cat-nap in between.

It just goes to show – I really CAN do it when I try.

Thursday 29th September 2022 – PLACEHOLDER ALERT

As I suspected, I wasn’t far out yesterday when I said that I’d be still on the road at 04:00. I’m just settling down now and it’s 03:48 so I shall award myself several brownie points for that.

So where am I then?

Well, you’ll have to come back tomorrow, some time after midday because I doubt that I’ll be stirring much before then. Just let’s say that on my way around I picked up a bottle of Spruce Beer, or Epinette as it’s known around here. And this is the only place in the World where you can buy it.

But right now I’m off to bed, and I deserve it too. I’ve had two really bad falls today, both of which will rival or exceed that one that I had the other day on board Victor Hugo and I can’t walk.

What will happen tomorrow remains to be seen.

Wednesday 28th September 2022 – HERE WE ALL ARE …

… not sitting in a rainbow but sitting in a room in a Première Classe Hotel at the Parc des Expositions in the suburbs of north-east Paris.

And when I say “we”, I do mean “we” because I am not alone. And who I’m with and what I’m doing here, well, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow evening to find out.

That is, if things go according to plan. But they may well not because I have a start tomorrow morning at 04:45 and I’ll still be on the road at 04:00 the following morning too so trying to get some sense out of me at that time of morning is not going to be easy.

We shall have to see

So this morning I fell out of bed almost as soon as the alarm went off and compared to how things have been just recently, it was rather a rapid rising too.

After the medication I had several things to do that were quite urgent, namely to book myself a train and a bus. That was much more complicated than it ought to be too and in a few days time we really will be breaking new ground if it all comes off

All of this is necessary because there have been quite a few changes just recently things aren’t as they were and all of the changes are for the worse. It seems that, as usual, people are determined to go around sticking the batons dans les roues as they say around here and disrupting everyone’s progress.

But more of this anon.

Having done that and printed out my tickets for later next week, I finished off backing up the computer and then began the tidying and cleaning up.

A shower and a haircut were next and then I bleached everything as usual, washed the lino in the kitchen, finished off the packing and staggered off out.

A bus was there at the bus stop but I didn’t take it for the simple reason that it doesn’t go anywhere where I want to go, and the connections are all totally up the spout. It’s unbelievable what they have done with this stupid bus service.

So having exchanged a few pleasantries with a couple of my neighbours who were chatting outside, I headed off on foot for the town.

As usual, I stopped at the viewpoint overlooking the port to see what was happening there and to check the camera.

Down there moored at the fish processing plant this morning is La Grande Ancre. We’ve been seeing quite a lot of her just recently going out and back to the Ile de Chausey. She’s usually loaded up with fishing gear but she doesn’t seem to have much on board today.

A little further back tucked around the corner is Les Bouchots de Chausey and a couple of even smaller boats.

Plenty of people on the quayside working because there seems to be a considerable amount of shellfish deposited on there this morning

Meanwhile, over at the ferry terminal is Belle France, one of the ferries that go over to the Ile de Chausey. I wonder if her presence there has anything to do with the coach that’s parked at the terminal building.

And yet even more activity over at the chantier naval this morning

Yesterday we saw that all of the boats that had been in there just recently, apart from Briscard, had gone back into the water and she was then the only one still there.

This morning though, she seems to have acquired another companion. There’s another trawler that has come in to join her. By the looks of things from here, she could possibly be Charlevy but I’m really not sure. She was in there for a while a month or so back so I wouldn’t have expected her to be back at the moment.

Meanwhile, in other news, there’s plenty going on out in the bay in front of the port.

It looks very much as if a couple of the sailing schools are going out and about early this morning. There are a couple of kayaks too.

They aren’t going to have a very good day for it though because it’s threatening rain right now.

The walk down into town was agonising as I was expecting but at least I was in time for the bus, along with a whole crowd of schoolkids. But I could at least grab hold of a seat and have a rest.

The bus dropped me off at the station in plenty of time so there was quite a wait for the train.

The coffee machine was out of order yet again (or, more likely, “still”) so there was nothing to do except sit outside and watch them shunting a train around across the station.

At least the rain was holding off for now so it wasn’t too depressing.

One added issue was that my electronic ticket wasn’t working but the ticket inspector was also waiting for the train so we had a chat about it. She inspected my receipt and said that it would be sufficient.

The train pulled up a few minutes late and we swarmed aboard. There was quite a crowd gathered on the platform by now.

At first I had a pair of seats to myself but at Vire I had someone come to join me. I spent the journey backing up the computer from the data stick as far as I could, but the rattling and shaking of the train on a badly-laid line put a stop to it.

At Paris we all swarmed out again and I hit the streets in something of a wave of agony on my way to the metro station.

Going down the steps to the platform was bad but that was nothing to what happened at the Gare du Nord. The escalator was out of order and the climb upstairs on the narrow walkway was agony and I was blocking the path for just about everyone.

Did I mention that I have much more luggage with me than usual?

At the Gare du Nord when I eventually arrived there I wandered off for the train that would take me to the airport. That’s by far the easiest way to find the hotel as all of the directions seem to start off there and, furthermore, there’s even a service bus – the 349 – that passes within 400 metres from where I need to be.

When I arrived, the coffee machine was out of order as well and that’s even more depressing news but they made me a coffee for which I was very grateful.

Holed up in my little room, I had tea. Last night I’d made some rice, veg and my taco roll and I’d put them in a plastic container. For an ad-hoc, impromptu tea it was really nice, especially washed down with a couple of tangerines.

And now I’m off to bed. I’m not looking forward at all to this early start but needs must when the devil drives.

Tuesday 27th September 2022 – NOT VERY MANY …

… photos today. And when you look at the photo of the beach down towards Donville les Bains you’ll see why.

When I went out for my afternoon walk around the headland I was almost swept away in a rainstorm and at one point I was even thinking of giving up and going back home. However I trudged wearily and wetly on around my circuit.

So providing that I haven’t caught pneumonia or something else and don’t pop my clogs I’ll tell you all about my day.

And as usual, when the alarm went off at 07:30 it was a struggle to leave my stinking pit. And after the medication I came back in here to revise my Welsh ready for my lesson.

Mind you, I need not have bothered because it was a pretty gruesome lesson. It didn’t go according to plan at all and I made rather a mess of things. Somehow I’ve not been able to get to grips with things since we started back and that’s quite depressing.

After the lunchtime fruit I’ve been organising a few things. There’s a little something simmering away on the back burner and I need to prepare for it. and so I’ve been dragging stuff out of cubby holes and that sort of thing today

Another thing that I’ve been doing is checking all of the electric stuff and making sure that it’s fully-charged. It’s twice this week that I’ve been caught with my batteries flat.

And that took me up to the time when I usually go for my afternoon walk.

It’s no surprise that there was almost no-one down there on the beach. There was just one person out there at the water’s edge eyeing the waves but I was more interested in this guy here.

Al dressed up for the wind-surfing complete with board, but he’s on his way back to the steps up to the Rue du Nord. Obviously the storm was far too much even for him.

It was certainly far too much for me and as I said, I was in half a mind to turn round and go back home.

However, I carried gamely on, not that it did me any good at all because I couldn’t see a thing out there. There was just one person running around on the lawn and that was that. There wasn’t even anyone on the bench at the cabanon vauban..

And so I pushed on along the path on the other side of the headland towards the port to see what was going on there.

And yet more excitement in the chantier naval again today. The only boat that remains in there today is Briscard. The other two, Gerlean and Chant des Sirenes, have now gone back into the water.

Not that this is a good day to be going back into the water. I certainly wouldn’t want to be out there today, not in a 25-ton fishing vessel anyway. We would have been OK on a 12,000 tonne vessel like THE GOOD SHIP VE … errr … OCEAN ENDEAVOUR

And thinking about that has got me going again, hasn’t it? High time I hit the frozen north. What actually brought that to my mind was how cold and wet and windy it was. It actually felt like the Arctic standing there today.

Today is usually the day that one of the freighters from Jersey comes into port.

And there’s a huge pile of freight waiting on the quayside to be picked up as you can see, but this isn’t really the kind of weather that you would expect to see one of them struggle into port.

The two lorries there are quite interesting though. The other day we saw two refrigerated vans parked back-to-back with their doors opened. Today, there are two refrigerated artics doing the same thing.

It must be some kind of ritual, I suppose.

But there’s something going on here in the Rue du Port right now.

There was something in the news this morning about the bus routes being closed this weekend and this is probably why. There’s some kind of concert taking place by the looks of things and they are busy setting up the stage.

Last year, I vaguely remember something about this so I’ll have to look through the old records to find out.

Back here I had a coffee and then had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. This was another one of these dreams where I had all of my work in a total mess so I was planning on retiring. I had my German homework to do but I hadn’t done it and I hadn’t done the next lot. The tutor started to harass me about my German. I couldn’t make up my mind whether to drop it or not. I explained that I was in a really bad place in my head at the moment. This wasn’t really the time but she kept on insisting. She started to talk about how badly she’d been done by some people. The football team that she’d trained for a football match who had let her down. This conversation started off being about me and my homework very quickly became a conversation all about her. I felt even more isolated while this was going on than I did before.

And I also have the very, very strong feeling that Zero was around last night too, but there was nothing on the dictaphone about that. That’s bizarre.

The rest of the day has been spent doing a load of washing and carrying on with what I was doing before I went out.

Tea was a burger on a bap with the last of the potatoes and then I had another meal to cook because there was still some stuff left in the fridge that needed to be eaten.

So now I’ve written my notes I’m off to bed. I’ve forgotten all about a football match tonight which was sad, and I have a busy day tomorrow so I’m not going to be hanging around for long.

Monday 26th September 2022 – GONE!

And never caled me “mother”!

Thee have been wholesale changes in the chantier naval today and I seemed to have missed them all!

The only boats that are still there from the five that were lined up at the side are Briscard and Chant des Sirenes. And add to that the fact that Gerlean has now moved over there too, and you can see that they have been really busy.

Everyone else that we have seen in there over the last couple of days has now gone back into the water.

So what’s going to happen next?

Also gone! And never called me “mother!” either are the crowds of people

Autumn has certainly arrived, and arrived in spades too. As a result, despite the fact that there was plenty of beach to be on, there wasn’t a single person – or a married person either – taking advantage of it.

By the looks of things, everything is quietening right down ready for winter to arrive. All we need to do now is to clear out the caravanners and we’ll be back to our normal sleepy selves, and I won’t ‘arf be looking forward to that!

The beach isn’t the only thing where winter is a-cumin in.

Over there at the ferry terminal we now have two of the ferries parked up. Belle France is over there at the front of the queue and behind her is one of the Joly France boats.

We can tell from the windows in “portrait” format and the lack of step in the stern that it’s the newer one of the two. Chausiaise is in the inner harbour so all we need now is the other ferry and we’ll have a full house.

In the foreground, nothing to do with winter, is the little Le Roc À La Mauve III whom we saw for a while in the chantier naval

The final event that has underlined the arrival of winter relates to the Channel Island ferries.

Victor Hugo has been moored in the harbour for quite a few days but she’s now been joined by her sister, the single-hulled Granville that plies between some of the smaller ports up the coast and some of the ports on the minor Channel Islands like Alderney and Sark.

The fact that they are now both here seems to imply that they aren’t going to go anywhere until next Spring. And I hope that next year when everything starts up again we’ll have a much better service than we had this year.

But while we’re on the subject of going anywhere … “well, one of us is” – ed … I’ve been going places today.

So while you admire some of the photos that I took while I was out and about I’ll tell you all about it.

And the first thing that I wanted to say was that I actually went out on the bus. The event that I attended was taking place at the rear of the Agora Centre on the edge of town and as the bus passes by there, I reckoned that I would leap aboard instead of going in Caliburn.

Especially as travelling on the bus around the town is free. I should really do more with that.

Mind you, I was lucky that I went.

The bus was due to leave at 09:10 and the nurse was also due as well and he can come at any time. I was half-expecting him not to come until after the bus had left but he turned up with 10 minutes to go.

Having had a shower earlier in the morning I was ready and so immediately after he left I grabbed my things and was out of the door. I made the bus in seconds flat, which you must admit is an amazing piece of engineering.

It was pouring down with rain this morning, and I had to wander around in the wet to find the place that I wanted.

It’s the old Ecole Pierre et Marie Curie that closed down last year. The town has bought it so that they can bring into one place all of their outlying offices instead of having them scattered all around in various buildings.

It’s been refurbished, so they tell me, which I find surprising – it must have been in a dreadful state before – and some of the services have moved in. Today was the formal, official opening and I’d been invited.

There’s plenty of room in there. I must have counted as many as 20 old classrooms, of which only a handful were occupied.

Consequently they have made a lot of the empty rooms into “communal rooms” where the various associations can rent a space to hold meetings, and several “likely tenants” were there. I spent a lot of time talking to someone who runs a ballroom dancing class.

Interestingly, they have ploughed up what I suppose used to be the school playing field and that has been converted into some kind of communal garden rather like an allotment site. Now doesn’t THAT have possibilities?

But why I was there was that one of the rooms has been seized by the organiser of our radio station.

We’ve never had a studio. Everything is always done at the home of whoever is presenting the programme and that can sometimes be inconvenient. But right now we have staked our claim and thinks can only (hopefully) improve.

It’s nothing like the type of studio that I would like to have, with a separate control room, sound insulation and absorption material all around it, but from small acorns large oaks grow and they’ll begin to realise the shortcomings and do something about it.

Thierry drove me home afterward so I didn’t even have to wait for the bus, and I could then carry on with my work.

As it happened, I’d already done quite a lot of work. With the alarm going off at 06:00 I was out of bed immediately even if I hadn’t gone to bed until after 23:00 and had a bad night, all of which just goes to show that I can do it when I really try.

After the medication, having a shower and checking my mails I made a start on the notes for the radio programme that I’d be preparing today. And not only did I finish writing the notes I’d actually dictated half of them when the nurse interrupted my progress.

Back here later I had a very late breakfast and then carried on with the work.

And it took an absolute age to do because it was rather a different way of doing it today. Usually I just trawl through my databases when I’m choosing the final track and pick one that matches the available timeslot less 45 seconds for a closing speech.

Today though was a themed programme and I didn’t have the same choice that I would otherwise have. I had to choose a track from a very small selection and adjust the length of the speech to fit.

And then in an error of calculation I was 10 seconds short so I had to re-dictate the final speech with some extra stuff in it and then re-edit it.

As a result it was a very late walk around the headland. At least the rain had stopped for a moment but there was a howling gale that had sprung up. I was the only one out and about and I could understand why.

You’ve seen the beach already, and there was nothing else of any note on the north side of the headland.

The storm was keeping everyone else in today except for a few brave souls such as those people in the little boat out there sailing … “dieseling” – ed … past le Loup, the light on the rock at the entrance to the port.

You can see how much she’s struggling against the wind in this photo, and although I wasn’t in the best position to take it, it was too good an opportunity to miss as it would soon be in the shelter of the headland.

This boat is having even more difficulty coming into port.

This is Calean whom we have seen on many occasions in the past. And I’d seen her way out at sea fighting her way past the waves and she had taken an age to come into the bay.

In fact she didn’t have it easy coming into port either because as you saw in one of the earlier photos there wasn’t a lot of water in the harbour so she’ll have to ride outside in the storm for a while until the tide comes in a little more.

Surprisingly, there was someone on the rocks at the end of the headland.

THis fisherman was having plenty of fun fighting the storm but he didn’t last long. He evidently heard me coming because as soon as I arrived he folded up his gear and cleared off.

There was someone on the bench at the cabanon vauban as well but as soon as I arrived he did likewise. I really ought to change my deodorant.

Crossing the road was rather a bad time as I hit the school buses going home. A whole fleet of them. Discretion was the better part of valour so I stayed on the pavement until they’d all gone by.

On the way home I took a few photos that you have already seen, but there was this one too.

Actually it’s cropped out of another one and although it is missing some of the hull of Cap Pilar, it’s of interest because it shows quite a lot of her distinguishing features.

One of the things to do eventually is to make my own fishing boat database for the port with photos of all of the boats showing their name and registration number so that I can refer to it in future.

No time like the present.

Back here I had a listen to the dictaphone to see where I’d been during the night. And then later (“later than what?” I asked myself) I was walking around an island. I started off in the company of Zero but we met other people. Gradually they wandered off and I was on my own. Because I’d had no orange juice I went to look for a shop that would have them. There weren’t many shops on this place. There used to be 3 but now there were only 2. Now the hotel had a few possessions as well, things to sell. I went to the first one but I ended up being side-tracked. I bought something else but completely forgot about the orange juice. Later on, when I was wandering around waiting for someone I remembered the orange juice as well. By this time I was a long way from where the shops were and I didn’t want to go to the hotel to see if they had one to fill so I had to go all the way back to the shops and have a look in there. But there was much more to it than this. It was a dream that went on and on and on as I was walking around this island and it lasted for ever.

I couldn’t go back to sleep after this but I must have done at some point because there was some kind of office meeting taking place. I was having to question a couple of people at this meeting. It concerned an interview between 2 people that had taken place on Monday. One of them was management. Some meetings between more members of staff who were senior grades and representatives of employers. There was a third topic too but I can’t remember that. I had to ask that question at 4 or 5 separate meetings. The first 3 or 4 went fine but in the final one I lost my plot, lost where I was. That was because in the first question I asked about this meeting with one member of staff, someone whom I believed was a member of staff shouted up and shouted “yes” in answer to a question. Of course no-one was even supposed to know about it except me. Anyway I awoke again and couldn’t go back to sleep after that

When the alarm went off I was somewhere in a hotel with a group of people. We’d been driving somewhere and going down this steep hill it was pretty dark. Some guy kept shouting “no, no, no! You’ve gone the wrong way! Stop, stop stop!”. In the end we stopped and had to retrace our steps then turn to the right. We followed a canal for a while. There was a sign for an abandoned railway station and we passed through some kind of derelict abandoned village. That was where I dropped something that I was carrying over the side of the jeep so we had to do a U-turn but the jeep behind us picked it up and gave it back to me. Someone in the jeep asked if I really enjoyed camping. “No” I replied. “I’m a hotel person myself”. And this really was an extremely realistic dream too that shook me rather when I awoke and found that it was a dream.

But at least Zero had come to see me during the night, although not for long. But let’s just be thankful for small mercies.

Tea was a delicious stuffed pepper, interrupted by a phone call from Rosemary, so I called her back later.

1 hour 45 minutes we were on the phone talking about this and that, and especially how Miss Ukrainian is enjoying going to school even if it is just part-time for a crash course in French. As a result, I’m running horribly late today.

And a Welsh lesson too so I need to be fully fit and raring to go. Still, we can all dream, can’t we?

Sunday 25th September 2022 – IT’S SUNDAY …

… today and so I had my usual lie in. And as you admire a few photographs of examples of the local aviation, I’ll tell you all about it.

Not that it was all that much of a lie-in because despite not going to bed until 02:00, I was up and about by 10:30 this morning. And that’s not the usual way of doing things on a Sunday.

In fact, I could actually have been out of bed much earlier than that. I was debating whether to leave the bed and do some work round about 08:30 and that would have been a miracle in itself.

Thinking about it, I really ought to have made something of an effort, just for the sake of it.

After the medication this morning I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

This was something to do with a dog that was hanging around where I lived. I didn’t like it at all. I hated dogs so I was not interested in the least in anything that was going to happen with this dog. In the end we injected it with something that was guaranteed to kill it. Then I had to take a computer out to someone. We took the computer and prepared everything and then went outside. Then I realised that we didn’t have the cable for it so we’d have to go back. We popped in roundabout where the sofa with this dog was that we’d injected. I went back in and went to pick up the cable that was plugged into this plugboard, and the dog got up and started to move about wagging its tail. I told it to go and lie down again and go to sleep. I was really bewildered about this in the dream, wondering what on earth was happening. It was such a surprise in the dream when this dog actually got up when i’d just put it to sleep 5 minutes earlier.

Back in the War, we were preparing for the defence of Jersey. The island fell very quickly so once the War was over there was a kind-of war game. We found an old bunker that had a lathe in it with an electric fan. There was some kind of slicing machine that went on the lathe. We found a way where you could drop hand grenades from this bunker down underneath it if anyone had entered the cellars. We considered that this bunker would have held out for quite some time and probably several others too that were built to the same style although it was never publicly announced as to how they had been built. Of course all of this had been rendered useless in June 1940 when the Germans simply marched into Jersey with no opposition. It was really only a theoretical exercise but having done it we were convinced that we could have held out for a considerable period of time.

I can’t remember where we were next but it was something to do with some Chinese people. They lived in a town where the industrial estate and residential ares were not distinctly separated. Sometimes it was very hard to tell which was the residential building and which was an industrial premises. Having lost a trailer from somewhere or other that we had to find it was very important that we worked it out fairly quickly.

The rest of the day has been spent carrying on with where I left off yesterday. I’ve still not had the replies that I would like so I’ve had to proceed by guesswork and that’s not really all that easy either because I’m more than likely to guess incorrectly.

Things are a little clearer in my head now though, at least for the important parts of it and the rest will surely follow as night will follow day. But I can’t do anything about any other part until next weekend.

So on that note I wandered off outside for my afternoon walk.

As usual I wandered over across the car park to see what was happening down on the beach.

The sunbathers have now all gone home and the only people about and about are the walkers going out to take the air, like this lot here.

And they were all that there was around here. There wasn’t anyone else around here at all.

And there wasn’t anything going on out at sea either. The view was really good out at sea just now but apart from a couple of yachts out towards Jersey, that was really that.

With it being a Sunday I decided to go for a walk around the walls this afternoon instead of around the headland.

From the Place du Marché aux Chevaux there is a good view over the wall and for a change there was no-one obstructing the view. No-one blocking the view of the base of the wall on the outside this afternoon either so I had an uninterrupted view of the repairs.

They had dismantled quite a lot of that and regular readers of this rubbish will recall the big hole that appeared in the wall at one time as they were repairing it, but now they have gone we can see the kind of job that they have done.

And the work that they have done really does look good. I was hoping that the workmen would now come back and work on something else that needs fixing but so far they have been conspicuous by their absence.

So from here I pushed on along the path nderneath the wall towards the viewpoint overlooking the Plat Gousset.

And the end of the season is quite apparent here. For a start, the cabins and the crown off the diving platform have now been removed and placed into store.

No-one was swimming around in the tidal swimming pool either and there are no lifeguards on duty from what I can see.

There are just a couple of people now wandering around on the beach, and they are dressed for autumn too. Bikini days are over now, which is a shame. I can put my eyes back in.

Down in the Place Marechal Foch there was nothing happening, so I wandered off through the Square Maurice Marland. There wasn’t much happening there although a bunch of kids were having a really good time with a small ball.

There’s a little bit more freight on the quayside this afternoon too.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that when we walked past here last weekend there were some red dumpers on the quayside. They found their way to Jersey on Wednesday.

Today we seem to have acquired a green ride-on mower. There isn’t anything in the way of grass down on the quayside so it looks as if this mower is going to follow the dumpers out to the Channel Islands the next time that Normandy Trader comes into port.

It’s good news anyway and as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, it’s been a long time since I’ve had any. And we need good news after hearing that the gravel boats have definitely finished coming.

Why St Malo would have bought the gear I really don’t know. They are rather constrained for space in there right now as there is a 6,000-tonne Russian freighter, the Vladimir Latyshev, marooned in the port because of sanctions. She’s been there now for 117 days

As the aeroplane 55-OJ flew by over head, followed by an unidentified helicopter, I set off for the long walk home.

At the Place Cambernon, we had something that I hadn’t noticed before.

Unfortunately I can’t say when this piece of street art appeared but I can’t recall seeing it the last time that I passed. It’s not actually what I would call “professional” and it isn’t up to the standard of street art that we’ve seen elsewhere.

However it had drawn the attention of several of the passers-by and it’s livened up the place a little.

We can see it a lot better now though because the newsagents has gone onto winter house and is closed. There was just the bar, La Rafale, with a few tables out today, and not too many customers were there either this afternoon.

On the way home I went past my favourite house.

This is the Masion du Guet – the “Watch House” (“Watch” as in being a group of people engaged in observation) and was originally built by a carpenter in the 17th Century but in 1696 the French Minister of War ordered the walls to be cleared and demolished.

When the walls were restored, a house was built on the original site and has slowly been extended over time.

Today though, I doubt if they would be allowed to extend it. But with the scaffolding being there, it looks as if they are working on it, maybe doing a little restoration or renovation work.

Jamais deux sans trois – “never two without a third” as they say around here. So sure enough, as I was heading for home I was overflown again.

This one is much more like it – being one of our usual suspects. She’s F-GBAI, a Robin DR 400-140B that belongs to the local aero club.

She had taken off from here at 15:17 and slipped off the radar near Avranches at 15:48. She was then picked up on radar near Avranches at 16:54, flew over airfield at Granville and inland before performing a U-turn to come back, and then disappeared off the radar near the airfield at 17:00.

My photo was taken at 16:52 (adjusted) sometime during the period when she was flying under the radar.

Back at home with a coffee, I carried on with my work and then went for tea.

No pizza tonight though. I’m still dealing with the arrears in the fridge. And cooking a vegan burger in the air fryer was yet another success.

In a few minutes I’m off to bed. An early start in the morning as I have a radio show to prepare. And I might well have to go out for a few hours too. There’s something going on with the radio tomorrow and my presence has been requested.

Wonders will never cease.

Saturday 24th September 2022 – I REALLY DON’T KNOW …

… how to start today. I’ve been trying to think of some significant event that could open up today’s entry with a bang, but I couldn’t really think of anything.

It’s been that kind of day today.

So while you admire a couple of photos of a few light aeroplanes that were flying around this afternoon, I’ll start at the beginning.

When the alarm went off I was in a University lecture and the lecturer was reading out the conditions for a test. The way he calculated the marks to be awarded only led up to 80%. he said “don’t worry. The other 20% will be awarded depending on how well you got on watching a couple of films”. Of course that didn’t seem right to me. he started to give the instructions but I was busy drawing flowers on the whiteboard that I had. he came out with something and I made rather a lame joke about it. Half-way through, the invigilator came in to ask him if he was ready to start. He said “I have them wound up. They are already cracking jokes “. I thought that had I known, I would have cracked a better joke than that.

It wasn’t a very enthusiastic start either.

Although I managed to beat the second alarm, it wasn’t by much. I was still dressing when it went off.

But after I had taken my medication I wandered off for a shower and a general tidy-up.

And then it was time for a quick trip to Lidl. I didn’t want much today because I have something organised later in the week and shan’t need much food – at least as far as LeClerc goes, so there wasn’t much point in going there.

It actually took much longer in Lidl than it might otherwise have done. Only one queue open, and some doddering old woman was having a dispute with the cashier.

She seemed to think that the cashier had failed to charge the reduced price for a short-dated item and nothing that the cashier would do to convince her and it took an age for the matter to be settled. Of course, the cashier isn’t going to print out the receipt and give it to the customer until the bill has been paid.

And when it did come to paying, the old woman had to dig deep in every pocket and bag that she had in order to find the right amount of cash.

There was a lot of words being said by those of us who were stuck in the queue.

So while you admire F-GNNX, a Robin DR400-120 belonging to the aero club at St Brieuc that came to pay us a visit this afternoon, I was eventually finishing my purchases and driving home.

Having sorted out my purchases I came in here to check my mails and messages.

Do you remember the saga of Not My Cat from the other week? A friend of mine was followed home by two kittens yesterday. They came into her house and settled down. She added “despite leaving the front door open they didn’t want to return outside at all”.

Anyone who knows anything about cats will realise that the cats have now adopted their human and that is that.

Armed with a coffee and some cheese on toast, I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

You’ve already read one note from the dictaphone but there was something else too. We were back in the war. The area of Russia where we were living was invaded by the Germans. I’d been caught as being away from my own place when I’d been talking to this girl. I ended up having to work for the Germans but I eventually found my way back home again. There was a second wave of invasions and I was caught yet again away from home so we decided that I’d pretend to be a flatmate of this girl and I’d be having singing lessons. This is how it started. Of course the military came to raid us again. It turned out that the guy who was in charge of the military was the guy who raided the place where we lived the first time so that didn’t work and we were all taken off.

So no TOTGA, no Castor and no Zero last night. But no-one else to disturb me so I ought to be thankful for small mercies.

After lunch I was idly surfing the internet, like you do … “like YOU do” – ed … and I came across a live football game – Wales under-19s v Republic of Ireland under-19s.

It was pretty short of skill as you might expect but a couple of players impressed me. I don’t think that anyone would ever get past whover was Ireland’s n°4.

There were a couple of distractions while it was going on, which meant, would you believe (and knowing how things usually pan out with me, you probably would), I missed the two goals that Ireland scored. 2-0 for Ireland, the final score, which rather flattered them, I reckon.

As the final whistle sounded, it was actually bang on time for my afternoon walk so I hopped outside.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that a regular feature that runs through these pages is one of photographs of people taking photographs.

Sown on the beach we had some guy posing at the water’s edge with some kind of dog that seemed to be a fashion accessory at his feet while someone else was taking photographs with a mobile ‘phone.

Not exactly what you would call the height of artistic endeavour but it makes some kind of unusual subject.

And just as well too because as far as I could see, they were the only people down there on the beach this afternoon.

And while I was up here by the wall, I was having a look around to see what was going on out to sea.

And look who’s back in the neighbourhood. Right out there in the bay a good few miles offshore is our old friend the Russian sailing ship Shtandart. She’s come back to haunt us.

And I can tell that it’s her for the simple reason that there is no AIS signal from anyone out there in that direction. Had this been any other sailing ship she would have had her AIS transmitter functioning but regular readers of this rubbish know all about her switching hers off.

And look at Jersey in the background. On the extreme right we can even make out one of the offshore Martello Towers but I can’t make out which one it is from here.

That prompted me to take another look at Jersey, without the distractions of Shtandart.

Over on the right we can see the blocks of flats at St Clément. As you’ll see when I finally add the photos from my trip to Jersey there are four fourteen-storey blocks of flats one behind the other on the seafront there and they show up quite clearly.

And then to the left we have various buildings in and around St Helier. It’s not easy to identify which is which because the sunlight is rather bizarre today.

But what I will do is to cadge a lift over to Jersey in Normandy Trader and film a video of the approach when the identity of the buildings will be much clearer.

And while we’re on the subject of Normandy Trader, Nathan her skipper tells me that he came into port on Wednesday while my friends and I were out to pick up those dumpers that we saw at the quayside on Sunday, and then had to come back the following day for more agricultural equipment.

There was some other stuff out and about too this afternoon.

One of the boats was instantly recognisable. I didn’t need the zoom lens on the NIKON D500 to tell who she was.

Sure enough, it’s another one of our regular customers, La Grande Ancre returning from a day’s fishing out at the Ile de Chausey.

The other boats were too far out to have any realistic idea of whom they might be, so I ignored them for the time being and headed off for my walk – or “hop”, more like.

The path along the clifftop was really busy this afternoon. There were quite a few people walking about.

However what had attracted my eye was this large group of people on one of the lawns at the end of the headland by the car park.

While I’d been watching the football earlier, one of the distractions was the noise of motor horns coming from vehicles at the Public Rooms presumably attending a wedding. What looks to have happened now is that all of the guests had adjourned to the lawn to carry out their celebrations in the open air.

They even had a couple of cars parked on there, decorated with flags and the like. You can see one of them over on the right.

It actually wasn’t all that much of a nice day for it, no matter how it looked in the previous photos.

And I’m sure that the guys in the two kayaks down there would be able to confirm it. It was cold to the extent that I had on a sweater, and there was quite a wicked wind blowing – one that was certainly rocking the boat.

This would have been the kind of weather that had I been out there on the water I would have wanted some kind of heating. But it’s never a very good idea to light a fire in a canoe for as you know, you can’t have your kayak and heat it.

I’ll get my coat.

What with all of the activity down there this afternoon, once more I’m surprised at the insouciance of some people.

Here we have a big wedding, a pseudo-Spanish galleon, a couple of kayaks, some fishing vessels and several aircraft flying by, all of which in a very strong wind, and here we have someone else sitting in a ringside seat on the bench down by the cabanon vauban and he is far more preoccupied by something else.

Maybe it’s his telephone, maybe it’s a good book, but there’s that much other stuff happening that I would have thought that he might have taken more of an interest in it.

Especially as just a minute or two later, La Grande Ancre goes sailing … “dieseling” – ed … part.

When I’d seen her earlier, she seemed to be pretty-much loaded up and I was really interested to see what she might have been carrying.

So here she is, and just look at all that shellfish. and not even a single seagull launching a dive-bombing raid for a free lunch.

It certainly must be profitable out there on the Ile de Chausey with all of that on its way back to the Fish Processing Plant, so I hope that they don’t hit any rough seas otherwise all that lot will come sliding off.

having seen la Grande Ancre I wandered off down the path on the other side of the headland towards the port.

Yesterday we had seen Le Poulbot in the cradle of the portable boat lift waiting for the tide to come right in so that there would be enough water to float her away from the quayside. Anyway, she’s now cleared off back into the water than that is that

There’s still that empty place though where Pierre de Jade was until earlier in the week. I suppose that someone will come along to claim it in due course

In the meantime, Gerlean and L’Omerta are still where they were, over on the right of the yard.

By now, one of the other boats that was out in the bay has come into port.

She’s one that we have seen before – CH922398, otherwise known as Gwenn Ha Ruz, which means “White and Red” in Breton.

There’s quite a load on board her too so it must have been a really good day out there today from that point of view.

By the way, don’t confuse Gwenn Ha Ruz with Gwenn Ha Du, “White and Black” in Breton. That is the colour (and nickname, incidentally) of the flag of Brittany. And you can see the similarity between the Welsh and the Breton languages.

Back here I had a play with the radio programme that I’ll be preparing on Monday. It’s going to be a special programme because there’s an event that needs to be celebrated so I spent quite a while trying to find some appropriate songs.

But now I have my 10 and one or two extra to fill in at the end. But I’ll need to make sure that there wiil be plenty of stuff to cut out of the text because I don’t have the same room to manoeuvre as I usually would for an 11th track.

Tea was a baked potato with veg and one of my breaded quorn fillet things. They really are nice. And as I’m having to ration the potatoes at the moment I had a slice of apple pie from the freezer. Dated September 2020, it was still quite nice.

And now before I go to bed I need to make a start on a mega-back-up. It’s been ages since I’ve done a complete one for the travelling laptop so I need to think about that.

It doesn’t matter how long it takes of course because Sunday is a lie-in and I fully intend to make the most of it.

What could possibly go wrong?

Friday 23rd September 2022 – THE END OF …

… an era. And I’m not talking about anything to do with la Soupape I and Philcathane either.

What I’m talking about is what is – or more correctly, isn’t – behind them on the quayside.

In all of the excitement yesterday I omitted to notice that all of the equipment for the gravel boats has gone.

When we were on our travels on Wednesday we noticed a huge crane pull into the harbour but I forgot to go and check what was going on on Thursday and so I missed its removal.

It’s all been sold to the port of St Malo and they sent a lorry or two to pick it up and take it away. And that’s the end of the gravel boats coming into the port.

Presumably that’s going to underline the slow demise of the port as a cargo hub and I wonder how long it will be before the little freighters to Jersey move on. With the gravel trade going, the Chamber of Commerce who runs the port will have to think about how it’s going to finance all of the rest of the operations here.

But there will be another time to worry about that. While you admire a few photos of Le Coelacanthe and Le Tibériade having fun and games out in the Baie de Mont St Michel, I shall tell you about my day today.

And although the night was rather later than it otherwise might have been I still leapt out of bed with alacrity (and you thought that I was on my own too!) at … errr … well, maybe not quite 07:30.

After the medication I spent some time slowly dragging myself to my feet, which was not easy today, and then I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night.

And we started off the night at Zero’ house, and wasn’t that a nice surprise?. There was something going on there about books. I can’t remember what I was actually doing now but she was there. So was her father. Our mother had died. There was a handbook for a Ford van, an E83W vzn, of which my father had two, one after the other, when we were kids and I do actually own a handbook for one, would you believe?. This was being given now to my father so I had to write an inscription in the flyleaf. There was also an encyclopedia left to my mother by someone called “Red George”. That had to be gifted to my father as well so I wrote the dedication in the flyleaf for the workshop manual then I was hoping to disappear with that so that I could present it and the pen over to my brother so he’d write the second dedication then I could get off and see Zero but I had a feeling that this was something where there would be some kind of ceremony or something about and of course she would be long gone by the time that all of this ended.

And this situation with my family trying to spike my guns when I have something interesting going on has a very familiar ring about it, doesn’t it?<

This next one was another dream that didn’t really get going. It was all about how I write up my blog. How I list all the image files which I normally do and then copy them onto a blank page and then fill in the text all around it but for some reason I was copying and pasting into the wrong file at the wrong time at the wrong place and generally speaking I couldn’t really co-ordinate my movements at all. It ended up being something of quite a mess which was a shame. It should have been so simple but I was finding all these ways to complicate it and time was slipping away.

And that’s a regular occurrence too, isn’t it?

But later on, when I was in work. TOTGA turned up for the first time in God knows how long and that was quite nice too. It’s been a good while since she’s been around. We started to talk and I invited her out for a meal as it was lunchtime. She agreed but she told me that someone else had invited her out at lunch and she was thinking of going with them. I immediately downed tools and said “let’s go now ourselves”. I asked her if there was anywhere she didn’t want to go because of other people whom she might meet. I stood up and started to walk out but suddenly realised that I had to pay for the meal that I’d had a while ago. I had to find a waiter but it was the equivalent of LIDL in here. Everyone was queueing etc. In the end the guy with me (for I was now with a guy) muscled his way in to the front of the queue and started to prepare my bill for me as if he was a waiter here or someone like that so that I could leave.

So while you look at the lifeboat Notre Dame de Cap Lihou going out into the bay past le loup, I was in Virlet last night, taking stuff down to my house. I was doing it and there were one or two other people as well. Loads of other people came to join in. They were bringing stuff with them and putting it in my house as I was trying to sort through it to see what I had. Amongst the things that took me by surprise was a box that I thought was full of screws but when I looked underneath there were boxes of nuts and bolts etc, spark plugs and a condenser and set of points for the Cortina, all kinds of treasures, so I started to sort them out. Other people were bringing stuff. Someone pointed out a lorry fuel tank that was there. He was saying that when he put it there it was in good condition but someone had dropped something on it so it was now dented and useless. I was bringing a large plank with me. there were a couple of kids who were trying to get in my way by grabbing hold of the plank as I went past so I shouted at them. Some woman came past with some stuff that she had found that someone had apparently dropped. There was a fire burning in the grate even though the place had been empty for years. I asked if someone had lit a fire and they replied “yes”, not that I minded because it was cold. It was quite a little hive of business going on in there. At one point I had to find something. I remembered that it was in the fuel tank of my old CZ motorbike so we had to dismantle that but I couldn’t get my hand in to pick it out. I needed things like a long twig or something that I could push inside to dislodge this item. Everyone was really busy.

And apart from that, I’ve been doing stuff on the internet and not having a great deal of fun doing it either.

But there are moves of some description afoot to which I need to attend and they won’t be done if I sit on my derrière and do nothing.

Consequently I have had “arrangements” to make.

And as usual, half the people to whom you write or otherwise try to contact don’t reply to you. People talk about there being a recession and how hard it is to earn money these days. And here I am, with a desperate need to spend some of it and it’s far too much like hard work for anyone to do what is required to prise it out of me.

That was the cue for me to go out for my afternoon walk around the headland.

It was like November today. Wet, windy, foggy and overcast so my hat comes off to these two people here, especially the one who looks as if she’s just this minute come out of the water.

Not quite à la Ursula Andress, but never mind, hey?

And as far as I could see, they were the only people down there on the beach, and that won’t be a surprise to anyone who was out there this afternoon in this weather. I was in a sweater and a rain jacket in a vain attempt to keep myself dry.

Here are some people in a zodiac having a sail around offshore, as I noticed as I continued on my way.

I don’t know what they were doing but whatever it was, they were doing it with a loud-hailer for the rest of the day,

The kids were also out there again though, orienteering around on the lawn around the bunkers. One little girl had a little chat with me which was nice. As regular readers of this rubbish will recall, I competed in the North West England Schools Championship on one occasion.

As an aside, not long after I moved to Brussels I saw someone wandering around in sports gear carrying some orienteering equipment so I wandered over to him to ask him.

He was aghast. The moment I began to speak to him he took one step back and stuttered “On se connait?” – “do we know each other?”.

In the end, I ended up running around the streets of Schaerbeek and Evere at night on my own

You’ve seen already a few photos of Le Coelacanthe and Le Tiberiade and one of the lifeboat Notre Dame de Cap Lihou out in the Baie de Mont St Michel.

At one particular moment we almost had one of Tom Rolt’s “Greek v Greek” moments and I thought that it was quite appropriate that the lifeboat was in the immediate vicinity.

From what I could see on their radar plots, they had both been fishing just offshore and were now considering whether or not to head for home. You saw Le Coelacanthe coming into the harbour in one of the earlier photos after she had made up her mind.

And on the AIS database she didn’t have a photograph. But now she does!

With no-one at the cabanon vauban this afternoon, I pushed on towards the harbour on the other side of the headland.

And it’s “all systems go” at the chantier naval this afternoon. And about to go is Le Poulbot after her length stay in port.

She’s sitting in the cradle in the portable boat lift waiting for the tide to come further in deep enough to drop her into the water.

Gerlean is still there though. You can just about make her out on the right. And L’Omerta is still there too, although you can’t see her.

But also gone! And never called me “mother!” is Pierre de Jade. Her berth is looking quite empty now.

But someone stepped into Le Poulbot‘s shoes before she has even gone into the water. In her place is the pink Suzanga, one of the newest trawlers here in the port.

She’s been here not quite two years and regular readers of this rubbish will recall that we “scooped” the local press by having her photographed and recorded here before they did.

So who is going to come along and claim the empty berth then?

Meanwhile, with both Gerlean and L’Omerta being in the chantier naval, we have other fish frying over at the Fish Processing Plant.

Moored there today, amongst several other boats were Calean and behind her, La Grande Ancre. And there are a couple of guys standing on the lower level by the van taking a great deal of interest in whatever is on the stern of La Grande Ancre.

Behind them, Le Coelacanthe had by now come in to unload. There was another boat too and waiting her turn to dock at the quayside was Le Tibériade.

It’s a shame that there are a few boats that habitually moor up at the wharf and prevent other ships from unloading quickly and having a rapid turnround.

So that was that and I headed for home and a coffee.

And I wasn’t the only one heading for home as around the corner towards port came Belle France from the Ile de Chausey with a crowd of passengers on board.

And I bet that they would far rather have been out there yesterday when there was everything going on in the bay. It was quite quiet and boring there this afternoon.

Armed with my coffee I carried on working and then knocked off for tea.

What I’d been doing, surprise surprise, is going through the Accounts of a football club in Wales to see if I could identify why they would want to allow themselves to be struck off the register at Companies House and compulsorily liquidated when they had assets of about £400,000.

That’s a saga that will run and run too.

Tea tonight was a Left-over Curry, delicious as usual, and then I had to run as I’d forgotten about the football this evening.

It’s this weird competition organised by the Scottish Football Association that includes the leading part-time clubs in England, Wales and Northern Ireland. TNS were at home to Dundee tonight live on the internet.

Really, it was no competition. TNS had by far the lion’s share of possession but I don’t think that Dundee ever broke into a sweat. They just stepped up a gear when it mattered and made it look easy.

The difference between the “professional” clubs and the “amateur” club is the fitness.

You watch when a big team is playing against a minnow. For much of the game the teams can slug it out toe-to-toe but the danger periods are the first five minutes of each half when the lesser team is struggling to come up to the rhythm and the final 15 minutes when the steam has gone out of the lesser team.

And sure enough, Dundee rattled in two goals almost straight from the kick-off for the second half, and added another one right at the end. They were just in a completely different class to TNS.

Bed time now, and I wonder who’ll be waiting for me. Zero and TOTGA again? Or Castor? It’s about time she put in an appearance again. But my money will be on one of my family coming along to spike my guns.

Watch this space.

EPIC HALL

The Poisoned Pen (or Poisoned Chalice, more like) – or my relentless struggle against reality