Going North to the Erne

This was taken at Ballyconnell before the rains started in earnest. That's real clover on the top. The cockpit is green too, but I don't think it's real grass. A dotey little boat.

And then things started to look like this:

I was outside for the next lock. I got absolutely drenched. It was too windy for an umbrella and I hadn't taken the precaution of the Drizabone ankle-length coat and Tilley hat.

We made it to Houghton's Shore on Garadice Lough in windy weather, quite late. It was full. Ended up tying against a Freeman that had nobody on board. Wind and rain all night, but in the morning it was better. We became lurkers, waiting for someone to leave so we could take their space. In the end they all went at once so we had a choice. Here we are against the wall.

The Waterways Ireland vessel Inishendra was busy at work. It came and parked on the slip while they had a cup of tea (I assume), then out to plant a new marker.

And finally to Belturbet, getting there mid-afternoon. It lashed for the rest of the day and most of the night. We played tunes, read, took the dog out struggling with umbrellas (she wasn't impressed) and finally went to bed. It was still raining.

But in the morning it stopped and things began to look up. There were fisherman floating around outside the boat in blow-up armchairs.

Then Crom Castle in sunshine, and Tirraroe, a name I always remember as Tiramasu. This is where we met the harbour dog again - a very matted but sweet sheepdog that divides its time between Knockninny and Tirraroe.

The reason we stopped here was because we needed to cycle to Derrylin for emergency butter. Hillier than we thought.

And Enniskillen and the ducks on the jetty. This one was trying to get in the boat.

At the moment we're at the Lough Erne Yacht Club (WiFi!). We'd planned a trip out to Lusty Beg on the Broad Loch, but it's too windy, and the small dog is very wobbly on her legs these days. She'd probably be in bits if we tried for it.

The RNLI went out as I was walking Aoife this morning. Someone had gone onto rocks near Lusty Beg. They were off again, but the RIB went out anyway to check they were OK. Not clear if it was wind or a wrong turn that put them on the rocks.

Anyway, we'll head back to Enniskillen where the Happy Days Beckett festival has just started. Beckett was a pupil at Portora Schoool between 1920 and 1923 (boaters know Portora for the sluice and lock on the way from Enniskillen to Lower Lough Erne). We've had a bit of sunshine this morning. Maybe it'll warm up a bit too.

What you can catch with a banana

Back to Leitrim Village the other day to the boat on the wall. Sunshine! A glorious evening. Better weather here than in Clare I think.

Pointing in the right direction and ready to go.

It's a few years since we were last on the Shannon-Erne Waterway. It was good to be back. There were swallows nesting behind the lock gates in the first lock (Lock 16). They must spend a good bit of the day worried and frustrated at these pesky boats destroying their peace and changing their landscape as the lock gates closed.

Lovely calm waters as I wait for Joe to empty the lock - set against us. Locks 16 and 15 were open and in I sailed with Winter Solstice (metaphorically of course). How come that is? Where did the boat come from that did that?

Suddenly the waters weren't calm. Rather wished I'd tied up. The boat suddenly wanted to be in the bank on the other side.

But in we went at last. Lock doors closing.

Joe took this one as I came into the lock at Kilclare, just before he cycled back to Leitrim.

I cycled along the tow path (trackway?) for several locks - they're all close together here, then Joe pedalled back to Leitrim for the car and I carried on to Keshcarrigan. We weren't going to stop there - it's always seemed a bit bleak - but in the sunshine it was more promising. We tied up the quay wall (good for the barbecue we were going to have) and made a cup of tea. A Swiss family on a hire boat were trying to catch the evening dinner with string, a hook and a banana as bait. They had a bite! Something down below was coming up! A plastic chair. Yummy.

Later, we cycled into the village - I hadn't realised how pretty it is. A very well cared for place, even though the village shop and the pizza place have closed.

This morning we moved again to the jetty that still had some electricity available - only being tidy using it up. Time to hoover up the dog hairs and charge the devices. Rain.

Here's Winter Solstice in hoovering position. The chair / fish hooked out yesterday takes pride of place in the foreground.

Time to go. The rain has stopped, the boat is hoovered (thank you Joe). Ballinamore next.

Boat uncovered, ready to go (at last)

Long time no blog. It's been a bit of a tumultuous year so far, and boating didn't come into it. My father was sick, then died, we sold our old house and had to move out, and the new house was only partly ready. Thank heavens for the camper van.

But we finally got back up to Winter Solstice for a proper trip away last week. We'd unwrapped her from her winter covers a couple of weeks before, so we were ready to leave Albert Marina and hit the river.

We didn't get far on the first night - Drumsna just round the corner - but the second night we went all the way to Dromod, ooh, about an hour away. It was getting breezy as we headed south, but of course this is nothing like traversing Lough Derg or Lough Ree. OK the Shannon widened into Lough Bofin and Lough Boderg, but they're sweet little lakes with only a small chop on them.

Dromod Harbour was packed and getting packed-er. There was a small marquee / large gazebo set up on the grass beside the harbour wall which was the clue. The Boyle River branch of the IWAI were having a barbecue.

We took our chance and turned sharply into the old harbour while there was still space, tucking in neatly down at the end.

The big boats were still coming in, rafting up against each other, then smaller ones tying to the entrance wall, then a couple more fitting in at the entrance to the old harbour. Dromod's always busy but I've never seen it this busy.

And still the wind rose, rocking Winter Solstice gently, like being in a cradle. Then the foam started to form. It's that thing that happens in peaty water - the small river at our old house foamed up like a bubble bath after heavy rain, and the wind was doing the same job here.

Then escape to the tranquility of Lough Key Forest Park via Clarendon Lough.

With its beautiful weir.

The Forest Park is very different these days of course, with its new building, activities for all the family and new jetties with electricity and so on. We pulled in there first, just to see, but tranquility there wasn't. There's a small ship on the river, a liveaboard, and they were sharing their music with the rest of the marina. Mm, lovely. We bought ice creams and hot boated it over to Drumman's Island. Phew.

I don't think we've ever stopped at this end of the jetty before - it's always been taken, and now I know why.

The island is not as populated as it used to be before the new jetties. There were three of us on it the first night, two the second.

But can you beat an evening of looking at this.

Finally to Leitrim Village where we had dinner at the Marina Hotel. This was a first, the hotel having been at various stages closed or suffering a poor reputation. It wasn't half bad, the evening being helped by meeting old friends from Enniskillen and sharing a table.

We left the boat against the wall in Leitrim, ready for the next stage. Back again next week and up the Shannon-Erne Waterway to the north.

Floating Tea Pot

We were cycling in Nantwich, Cheshire on a misty morning last week, about to get onto the towpath of the Shropshire Union Canal. It was busy - Easter holidays and boats were on the move. This one was about to pass below us as we watched from the Marsh Lane Bridge.

We were beginning to think of coffee, maybe stopping at the Basin End (renamed Nantwich Harbour or some such) where there's a small café, or going back along Welsh Row into town. But suddenly before us was a boat that made us pull up sharp and lay down our bikes on the grass beside the path.

My word, just the ticket! In we climbed, lifting the protective polythene over the entrance (this being an unreliable climate) and going down the steps into the long cabin of the narrow boat. It was warm and cosy, and someone was in the galley at the end.

That's the galley at the end - it's all dark in the photo, but Ray was in there starting the coffee.

Here's the boat in the other direction.

We had one of those conversations you usually have in Ireland where you find lots of people you know in common. Ray spent years coming to Ireland fishing with his mates, staying up around Lough Ree to fish the Inny, Dromod and Rooskey, or in Abbeyshrule on the Royal Canal where my friend grew up. Ray knew my friend's uncle (of course), and many of the places we've spent days on Winter Solstice.

You can see more about this boat and its restoration on the Tea Junction website. An interesting story.

After our coffee and conversation we cycled up to the next bridge.

Then the one after that and onto the road where the traffic was completely mad. Much nicer to be on a bike, or even better on a boat on the canal.

This is not a gap year

There has been a gap, however. It's been an odd and somewhat stressful year so far due to a sick parent and too much money given to Ryanair. It's also become exciting as we have a Sale Agreed on our house and it's all systems go trying to get the new place ready to move into. Or at least to camp outside in the camper van - it will probably come to that as the buyers have their house sold and are renting.

This is the state the house is in at the moment:

There's works been going on all around the house putting in the pipes etc for the waste water system - the septic tank is arriving on Monday. Jan and John Paul have been working away with the digger and measuring devices.

And Joe has been keeping an anxious eye.

Health n Safety wouldn't be too happy with this:

Ladders straddling the trench, three legs only on land. But needs must. The sofit (I think) had to be put up so the garage was empty for the guys who are going to be doing the plastering to put stuff. Or something.

And the inside, pre-plaster. This is the kitchen.

And the upstairs sitting room.

Better go and get some fuel in now - there's rain promised, and there's a barrel rolling around in the wind on the lawn. Not sure where that's come from.

Snow, wind and steamed up glasses

So we woke up to this this morning:

From the kitchen window

Ditto

From the bedroom window

 

Up the track

From the road above - our house is pretty much in the middle of this photo

It's now mid afternoon and the snow has gone from the trees. Still plenty on the ground, but it's melting fast. Instead we're now on Red Alert for high winds coming this evening. Hope I get back from teaching flute in Scarriff before it hits.

We were supposed to be going up to the new house this morning to meet the carpenter, but we were delayed by the snow. As always it's the steep hills that are the problem. Anyway, back when we had the last Big Snow Joe bought chains for the car. Time to try them out. It took a good half hour and both of us to work out the instructions, but finally one front wheel had a chain on it. We decided that would be enough and set off. Out we went, slowly, onto the road where the snow had turned all slushy. No problem after that. Off with the chain and onto the house in Derrycon.

We were working in Derrycon on Monday and yesterday, putting rock wool insulation into the gaps between timbers on the internal walls and ceilings. This is the ceiling in the kitchen showing the gaps.

The rock wool isn't for heat retention but as a silencer between rooms, and the difference is tremendous. Walking around upstairs on the uninsulated floorboards was rackety and loud. Insulated bits were quiet. Simple as that.

Not a nice job though. Rock wool isn't as nasty to work with as fibreglass insulation, but it still makes you itch. The first day I wore overalls, lots of thermal underwear and woolly things, a face mask, a hat. I was too hot, but that was easy to deal with. Off with the woolly jumper etc. The main problem was the glasses steaming up because of the face mask - even though there's a nose clip, air escapes upwards and steams you up. In the end Joe and I both had to take off the glasses.

In order to place the correct size piece of insulation into the wall or ceiling they of course had to be cut. This involved measuring. But neither Joe nor I could see as we'd had to take off our glasses. We developed a method where the one up the ladder measured the gap and handed the tape down to the other, finger gripping the 40 cm mark or whatever. I was working in inches and Joe in centimetres - I could just about see the inch marks but not the centimetres.

When we got home after the first day we'd completed the study and some of the ceiling in the hall:

But we both had really itchy eyes. Boiled and cooled teabags on the eyes helped, but we were going to have to use goggles, especially as we'd be doing a big stretch of ceiling next.

The trouble is with goggles you steam up as with glasses, but years ago when I had a moped we used to put a bit of washing-up liquid on the visor of the helmet to stop this. Indeed it does stop you steaming up. Instead everything is smeary. However I did discover an interesting side effect. I have astigmatism, so writing and numbers are double or in triplicate. If I look at the figure 1 it's unclear whether it's a 1, 11 or 111. But with the smeary goggles the numbers magically revealed themselves.

Still steamed up in the end though. Amazing how much you can see even when half your vision is blocked.

Still a way to go. Let's hope the wind allows us out tomorrow.

Ta Daaah!

We have a new house. The outside, anyway. We love it. Here's the tour. A fairly traditional front:

Then round the corner to the gable end:

The somewhat ecclesiastical window has our bedroom behind it. A friend of ours visiting from Wales, who's training to be a Baptist minister, said it made him feel very at home.

The drainpipe is not an unusual feature but was a temporary measure.

The one below was taken a few weeks ago when the plaster was still wet and the edging to the flat roof had yet to be finished. Joe's doing a bit of guttering fixing up there. 

This is one of the views from the roof terrace - posh name for the flat roof, but it will have decking and a glass surround. Not sure if it's my eyes or if this is a bit out of focus.

And here's the south-facing side. All that glass for the solar gain. The upstairs glass has a sitting room behind it. The downstairs will be the kitchen. And there's a rainbow growing out of the roof! Only just noticed that.

And last week the insulation went in. It's cellulose, another name for shredded newspapers, and it gets everywhere. This is Adrian with the last bag of the stuff. You have to wear face masks when going inside as there are tiny bits of newspaper floating through the air. I like the idea of my walls being filled with all those newspaper stories.

Inside it's tricky to get a clear view of some of the rooms - there's piles of plasterboard obstructing everything. But here's an idea. Downstairs sitting room:

Upstairs sitting room:

All we have to do now is sell our present house. We've had two sales not go through as the buyers haven't been able to sell their own houses.

In the meantime I have two lovely gardens to work on. Lots of black polythene down now. I'm going to plant potatoes in there next spring. I've already put in overwintering onions and garlic.