sorry about yesterday’s silence, as we sorted out our problem. The solution has been to migrate our blog to another host: WordPress. That means you will from now on find us at:
canalboatsaskia.wordpress.com
Sorry for the bother, but I think it will prove to be worth it, once we get used to it. The first post is up there now.
Tuesday, 3 July 2018
Sunday, 1 July 2018
Dole to Besancon - mostly in pix
Our tech problems persist, but it was a good day. We went for a big trip, Dole to Besancon, about 50 km with lots of locks. It took nearly 10 hours, not helped by getting blocked in the last lock of the day. We came around Besancon to the cosy little Port St Paul, and will explore the city a little tomorrow, but possibly not stroll up to the castle!
Saturday, 30 June 2018
On our way
Saint Jean de Losne to Dole
We seem to have coordinated with the beginning of summer in France. Warming up nicely.
We had an easy run up to St Jean de Losne yesterday, and found Saskia swarming with workers and cleaners. Like all boatyards, I suppose, this one also operates on the last-minute principle. Eventually they finished and we unloaded and settled in, with a foray to Casino for last minute items.
This morning there was a slight delay when it emerged that in their hurry, the team had tripped an emergency cut-off switch, and the engine wouldn’t start. But then we were away, through the first lock of the season.
So here we are at Dole, a pretty town. But there we discovered a big frustration - our hitherto always reliable laptop is refusing to recognize the WiFi hotspot generated by the iPhone. I’m afraid this rather limits the photos we can upload today... but there are a few, as you can see.
Soon after we arrived there was a cacaphony of car horns, as young men (mostly) careered around town, apparently celebrating the result of some football match. Then just across the Canal a group of hot-air balloons took off. A rather Fellini-esque end to the evening.
The
Wednesday, 25 April 2018
Of mice and men
It was a wet night, and a wet morning, with the cloud base at around 300 metres. We never got to use our beautiful terrace.
We came to the conclusion over breakfast that to try to enjoy the mountains in weather like this was hopeless. So a change of plan, or rather a reversion to plan A, and we set off for Bilbao, to visit Frank Gehry’s amazing Guggenheim museum.
From first glimpse, you have to be impressed, though we did find the signage less than adequate and made an entire circuit of the building before locating the main entrance.
Inside the exhibits are definitely modern. In the permanent collection some big names: Robert Rauschenberg, Andy Warhol, Cy Twombly, Mark Rothko, de Kooning, Jeff Koons. But it tends to be a few, or even a single, very large example of their work, rather than a range to compare and savour. Photographs were not allowed inside, so you will be spared examples, except for this Koons outside:.
Downstairs, there was a strange permanent installation exhibit by Richard Serra in an enormous hall, consisting of sheets of steel bent into strange shapes that you could walk through or into. Children were enjoying it, and we did too - sort of!
After that we set off towards the old centre of town, but it was wet and rather depressing, and we couldn’t get the car near the cathedral, so we decided to cut and run to the fishing village of Getaria, about 20 kilometers short of San Sebastián.
We had been told that tonight’s parador does not have a restaurant, so we thought we would have a slap-up final meal in Spain at the famed (and expensive) Elkano restaurant. But they had the workmen in and it was closed, so it was down to a tapas bar yet again: however, the Getaria tapas were notably good.
Then it was back on the road, next stop San Sebastián. It was still rather cold, damp and grey, but it looked as if there was a glimmer of better weather out to the west. We checked out the beach, which seems to be the top attraction, in summer anyway. There was a group of intrepid swimmers, but they were wearing wet suits.
So finally we slipped along to Hondarribia, where the parador is a conversion of a 10th century castle used by Carlos V in the 16th century, strategically situated on the border with France, just across the estuary. Once again, we have a very superior room, with a great view, as the sun struggled to break through:
And once again, our own private terrace. The sun has been trying to come out, but sadly it’s not really terrace weather yet.
Tomorrow it is just the long haul back home, so this will be the final installment of our holiday diary. We will have driven nearly 5,000 kilometres without problems so far, apart from that annoying puncture. Taking photos with our iPhones has been a new experience, and not always an entirely happy one. Getting them into this text remains a challenge each evening!
Staying in the paradors has been a great experience. They can be quirky too. One detail struck us in the bar at Limpias last night: there was no sign of a barman, but our neighbours pointed out what was effectively a remote control on the table. You press the symbol for waiter, and magically he appears. Apparently it buzzes or vibrates a watch on his wrist, and tells him where he is needed. A great way to increase productivity - or perhaps just to keep the workers running around!
But we have greatly appreciated the nine paradors we have stayed in, as well as the pousada and two hotels in Portugal. They seemed good value to us, and were always friendly and welcoming - probably even more so because of Lorna’s influence. We owe her a great deal!
We came to the conclusion over breakfast that to try to enjoy the mountains in weather like this was hopeless. So a change of plan, or rather a reversion to plan A, and we set off for Bilbao, to visit Frank Gehry’s amazing Guggenheim museum.
From first glimpse, you have to be impressed, though we did find the signage less than adequate and made an entire circuit of the building before locating the main entrance.
Inside the exhibits are definitely modern. In the permanent collection some big names: Robert Rauschenberg, Andy Warhol, Cy Twombly, Mark Rothko, de Kooning, Jeff Koons. But it tends to be a few, or even a single, very large example of their work, rather than a range to compare and savour. Photographs were not allowed inside, so you will be spared examples, except for this Koons outside:.
Downstairs, there was a strange permanent installation exhibit by Richard Serra in an enormous hall, consisting of sheets of steel bent into strange shapes that you could walk through or into. Children were enjoying it, and we did too - sort of!
After that we set off towards the old centre of town, but it was wet and rather depressing, and we couldn’t get the car near the cathedral, so we decided to cut and run to the fishing village of Getaria, about 20 kilometers short of San Sebastián.
We had been told that tonight’s parador does not have a restaurant, so we thought we would have a slap-up final meal in Spain at the famed (and expensive) Elkano restaurant. But they had the workmen in and it was closed, so it was down to a tapas bar yet again: however, the Getaria tapas were notably good.
Then it was back on the road, next stop San Sebastián. It was still rather cold, damp and grey, but it looked as if there was a glimmer of better weather out to the west. We checked out the beach, which seems to be the top attraction, in summer anyway. There was a group of intrepid swimmers, but they were wearing wet suits.
So finally we slipped along to Hondarribia, where the parador is a conversion of a 10th century castle used by Carlos V in the 16th century, strategically situated on the border with France, just across the estuary. Once again, we have a very superior room, with a great view, as the sun struggled to break through:
And once again, our own private terrace. The sun has been trying to come out, but sadly it’s not really terrace weather yet.
Staying in the paradors has been a great experience. They can be quirky too. One detail struck us in the bar at Limpias last night: there was no sign of a barman, but our neighbours pointed out what was effectively a remote control on the table. You press the symbol for waiter, and magically he appears. Apparently it buzzes or vibrates a watch on his wrist, and tells him where he is needed. A great way to increase productivity - or perhaps just to keep the workers running around!
But we have greatly appreciated the nine paradors we have stayed in, as well as the pousada and two hotels in Portugal. They seemed good value to us, and were always friendly and welcoming - probably even more so because of Lorna’s influence. We owe her a great deal!
Tuesday, 24 April 2018
The fickle finger of fate
It was cloudy and grey outside when we set off, after the usual hearty parador breakfast. The manager came out while we were checking out to chat and reinforce everyone’s fondness for Lorna, which has been so much to our advantage on this trip.
Our first target was the Covadongo lakes, not far from Cangas de Onis, but up a steep, windy road. After a while we reached the cloud base, but pressed on with headlights on, at a very slow pace, passing a number of cows with clanking bells, wondering if we would see anything at all when we reached the lakes.
But, to our delight, after a while we broke through into bright sunshine, and made our way on up the road to the very top, where we photographed distant snow-capped peaks, the Picos de Europa themselves, as well as the lakes.
It was a truly magical place, and we rather (well, quite) envied a group of teenagers we saw setting off on a guided hike of about seven kilometers to a mountain refuge. But with only a day in the mountains, we decided to press on, and headed back down the road. Then fate struck.
Round a bend we met a large tour bus, and there was no way past for us or for him. We had to back up, which we did gingerly, but not gingerly enough. He was advancing as we were retreating, perilously close to the cliff face. Then disaster: the back right hand wheel hit a rock with a bang, and, as we subsequently discovered, punctured.
The bus went by, and we crawled on down in the mist until we found a parking place for admiring the view, which was reasonably level. Out with the spare, jack in place, wheel nuts loosened, car jacked up, nuts removed - and could we get the wheel off? No, we couldn’t. Corroded in place, I suppose.
Various kind passers-by stopped to try to help, but nothing would shift it. We called our insurance company (in Paris!) who said they would arrange a rescue and call back, but no call. Eventually Diana found a solution on the Internet (we had phone connections and could set up a hotspot). The solution, in case you need to know, is to reinsert two or three wheel nuts loosely, lower the car, then rock it back and forth with the engine and gears to loosen the wheel. Eventually this worked, and we were able to put the spare on, and get ourselves cautiously down the hill, admiring this remarkable church as we went by.
Back in Cangas, we found a garage that could do the job. Except, of course, they didn’t have the right size of tyre in stock and would have to get them delivered. By them, I mean that inevitably no-one had exactly the same tyre, so we had to buy two. This gave us three or four hours to kill, so we found a parking place, photographed a little mediaeval chapel, and returned to the garden of the bar by the Roman Bridge for a leisurely tapas lunch.
Then we went and sat in the square and read our iPads until,eventually, the car was fixed, and we came along to our next, beautiful parador at Limpias. A lovely room with a private terrace, and a complimentary drinks voucher for Lorna’s friends!
Tomorrow we plan to set off early and see more of the Picos, before turning around and heading for our final stop at Hondaribia, pausing at the Guggenheim in Bilbao along the way. That’s the plan, but who knows what fate holds in store.
Our first target was the Covadongo lakes, not far from Cangas de Onis, but up a steep, windy road. After a while we reached the cloud base, but pressed on with headlights on, at a very slow pace, passing a number of cows with clanking bells, wondering if we would see anything at all when we reached the lakes.
But, to our delight, after a while we broke through into bright sunshine, and made our way on up the road to the very top, where we photographed distant snow-capped peaks, the Picos de Europa themselves, as well as the lakes.
It was a truly magical place, and we rather (well, quite) envied a group of teenagers we saw setting off on a guided hike of about seven kilometers to a mountain refuge. But with only a day in the mountains, we decided to press on, and headed back down the road. Then fate struck.
Round a bend we met a large tour bus, and there was no way past for us or for him. We had to back up, which we did gingerly, but not gingerly enough. He was advancing as we were retreating, perilously close to the cliff face. Then disaster: the back right hand wheel hit a rock with a bang, and, as we subsequently discovered, punctured.
The bus went by, and we crawled on down in the mist until we found a parking place for admiring the view, which was reasonably level. Out with the spare, jack in place, wheel nuts loosened, car jacked up, nuts removed - and could we get the wheel off? No, we couldn’t. Corroded in place, I suppose.
Various kind passers-by stopped to try to help, but nothing would shift it. We called our insurance company (in Paris!) who said they would arrange a rescue and call back, but no call. Eventually Diana found a solution on the Internet (we had phone connections and could set up a hotspot). The solution, in case you need to know, is to reinsert two or three wheel nuts loosely, lower the car, then rock it back and forth with the engine and gears to loosen the wheel. Eventually this worked, and we were able to put the spare on, and get ourselves cautiously down the hill, admiring this remarkable church as we went by.
Back in Cangas, we found a garage that could do the job. Except, of course, they didn’t have the right size of tyre in stock and would have to get them delivered. By them, I mean that inevitably no-one had exactly the same tyre, so we had to buy two. This gave us three or four hours to kill, so we found a parking place, photographed a little mediaeval chapel, and returned to the garden of the bar by the Roman Bridge for a leisurely tapas lunch.
Then we went and sat in the square and read our iPads until,eventually, the car was fixed, and we came along to our next, beautiful parador at Limpias. A lovely room with a private terrace, and a complimentary drinks voucher for Lorna’s friends!
Tomorrow we plan to set off early and see more of the Picos, before turning around and heading for our final stop at Hondaribia, pausing at the Guggenheim in Bilbao along the way. That’s the plan, but who knows what fate holds in store.
Monday, 23 April 2018
Heading for the hills
We didn’t get down (up) to breakfast till nine o’clock, but still we were the only people in the dining room. Obviously parador people like a good lie in. Anyway, we packed up and left our palatial room with regret, heading for Oviedo, along the coast to the east.
The day was not promising, grey and drizzly, with low clouds shrouding the mountain tops. Never mind, we thought, there is a specially good art museum in Oviedo, boasting Goya and El Greco. But, of course, not on Monday. Cerrado.
So we made our way round to the cathedral, which is, in fact, a rather imposing edifice, and we paid good money for a tour with one of those recorded voice things that I usually dislike. On this occasion, it was rather didactic and filled with facts you really didn’t need to know. But the cathedral was fun and has a magnificent carved and gilded and painted wooden altar piece, also a delightful cloister.
It was much knocked about in the civil war, and restored since, but a worthwhile visit. After that we wandered for a bit and came across the tourist office, which provided some maps and ideas, but nothing really riveting. However a bookshop came up with a detailed map of the Picos de Europa massif, which we will be visiting tomorrow. So that was good.
The tourist office material did, however, point us to an ancient church on a hill overlooking the city: Santa Maria del Naranco. It is a ninth century pre-romanesque church in a splendid position overlooking the city, and now a world heritage site. It was surprisingly difficult to find, and obviously not a destination for the mass tourist, but eventually we got there, and found another little church of the same vintage close by, San Miguel de Lello. Here are pictures of both.
After that we decided to head on to Cangas de Onis, where our parador is tonight, in the old convent of San Pedro de Villanueve. For the first time, our TomTom let us down on finding the parador, but in doing so took us past the old Roman bridge in Cangas, which was a bonus.
Actually, apparently it is not really Roman at all, but was built in the 13th century. But a nice story, all the same. Fortunately we had spotted a sign further back down the road pointing to the parador, which we eventually located. The main car park in front of the hotel was dominated by a line of British-registered supercars: Ferraris, Mclarens, a Bentley, a Porsche - all very expensive. Our modest Alfa was relegated to the outer car park.
However, at reception we were once again greeted with cries of: “Ah! Lorna’s friends”, and assigned one of the 11 prestige rooms in the old convent itself, rather than the newer annex. It’s good to have friends like that - thanks Lorna!
The day was not promising, grey and drizzly, with low clouds shrouding the mountain tops. Never mind, we thought, there is a specially good art museum in Oviedo, boasting Goya and El Greco. But, of course, not on Monday. Cerrado.
So we made our way round to the cathedral, which is, in fact, a rather imposing edifice, and we paid good money for a tour with one of those recorded voice things that I usually dislike. On this occasion, it was rather didactic and filled with facts you really didn’t need to know. But the cathedral was fun and has a magnificent carved and gilded and painted wooden altar piece, also a delightful cloister.
It was much knocked about in the civil war, and restored since, but a worthwhile visit. After that we wandered for a bit and came across the tourist office, which provided some maps and ideas, but nothing really riveting. However a bookshop came up with a detailed map of the Picos de Europa massif, which we will be visiting tomorrow. So that was good.
The tourist office material did, however, point us to an ancient church on a hill overlooking the city: Santa Maria del Naranco. It is a ninth century pre-romanesque church in a splendid position overlooking the city, and now a world heritage site. It was surprisingly difficult to find, and obviously not a destination for the mass tourist, but eventually we got there, and found another little church of the same vintage close by, San Miguel de Lello. Here are pictures of both.
After that we decided to head on to Cangas de Onis, where our parador is tonight, in the old convent of San Pedro de Villanueve. For the first time, our TomTom let us down on finding the parador, but in doing so took us past the old Roman bridge in Cangas, which was a bonus.
Actually, apparently it is not really Roman at all, but was built in the 13th century. But a nice story, all the same. Fortunately we had spotted a sign further back down the road pointing to the parador, which we eventually located. The main car park in front of the hotel was dominated by a line of British-registered supercars: Ferraris, Mclarens, a Bentley, a Porsche - all very expensive. Our modest Alfa was relegated to the outer car park.
However, at reception we were once again greeted with cries of: “Ah! Lorna’s friends”, and assigned one of the 11 prestige rooms in the old convent itself, rather than the newer annex. It’s good to have friends like that - thanks Lorna!
Sunday, 22 April 2018
End of the road for pilgrims, not for us
It was brighter this morning so we were able to take some photos of last night’s parador: an impressive fairly modern hotel built inside the ramparts of an old fortress overlooking Baiona’s bay.
After breakfast, we checked out, loaded the car, and then took a walk around the fortress walls, which was a delight, with the sun getting quite warm.
Then it was off to Santiago de Compostela, the end of the famous pilgrim’s way, the Camino de Santiago. This was a big deal in the Middle Ages, but then fell into disuse until revived in the seventies or eighties, so that now many hundreds, or even thousands of people undertake the grueling, month-long walk. They included the Germans we met in a TukTuk in Lisbon.
Traditionally, on arrival, pilgrims would sit down in the square in front of the cathedral, to contemplate their achievement, I guess, but also rest their feet. No shame having shoes and socks off here.
The square also houses the parador, in and old royal hostel for well-heeled pilgrims. We felt we had made the right decision in passing it up.
The cathedral itself is grand, but undergoing a major restoration so that there is quite a lot of scaffolding on the facade. This has also limited visits to the interior, and there was a long line, which we joined, only to be told that nobody would be let in for an hour. And it was not at all certain we would be included. So we jacked out.
After a little more wandering round the town, including an encounter with a busking Galician bagpipe player in traditional costume, we felt we had seen enough..
We decided to head off in the general direction of Ribadeo, our destination for the night. The first interesting looking place on the way was Lugo, which we had never heard of. But the guidebook told us its three claims to fame were magnificent Roman walls surrounding the old town, a fine cathedral, and, mostly important of all, excellent tapas bars.
After passing through the walls and finding a car park, we located tapas street and settled in. We found one that offered a free tapa with every glass of wine. Not a bad deal. So we had a tapa and a glass, then another glass and another tapa, and a racion of croquetas, and felt much better.
Then it was off to the cathedral, which we liked, though the extremely ornate baroque main altar was blocked off so we could not photograph it. The best we could do was this remarkable rendering of the last supper on a trailer, presumably for some festival or other.
The we took a stroll around the walls, before returning to the car south to investigate the Camino de Santiago. We identified a stretch through the high sierras, up to 1,300 metres, where the pilgrim’s path crosses the road several times, and in places runs alongside it. We saw a few walkers, but we not tempted to join them.
Finally we headed off to Ribadeo, and found our Parador quite easily. It is a modern hotel, overlooking the bay again, and interestingly our room is three floors down from ground floor level!
After breakfast, we checked out, loaded the car, and then took a walk around the fortress walls, which was a delight, with the sun getting quite warm.
Then it was off to Santiago de Compostela, the end of the famous pilgrim’s way, the Camino de Santiago. This was a big deal in the Middle Ages, but then fell into disuse until revived in the seventies or eighties, so that now many hundreds, or even thousands of people undertake the grueling, month-long walk. They included the Germans we met in a TukTuk in Lisbon.
Traditionally, on arrival, pilgrims would sit down in the square in front of the cathedral, to contemplate their achievement, I guess, but also rest their feet. No shame having shoes and socks off here.
The square also houses the parador, in and old royal hostel for well-heeled pilgrims. We felt we had made the right decision in passing it up.
After a little more wandering round the town, including an encounter with a busking Galician bagpipe player in traditional costume, we felt we had seen enough..
We decided to head off in the general direction of Ribadeo, our destination for the night. The first interesting looking place on the way was Lugo, which we had never heard of. But the guidebook told us its three claims to fame were magnificent Roman walls surrounding the old town, a fine cathedral, and, mostly important of all, excellent tapas bars.
After passing through the walls and finding a car park, we located tapas street and settled in. We found one that offered a free tapa with every glass of wine. Not a bad deal. So we had a tapa and a glass, then another glass and another tapa, and a racion of croquetas, and felt much better.
Then it was off to the cathedral, which we liked, though the extremely ornate baroque main altar was blocked off so we could not photograph it. The best we could do was this remarkable rendering of the last supper on a trailer, presumably for some festival or other.
The we took a stroll around the walls, before returning to the car south to investigate the Camino de Santiago. We identified a stretch through the high sierras, up to 1,300 metres, where the pilgrim’s path crosses the road several times, and in places runs alongside it. We saw a few walkers, but we not tempted to join them.
Finally we headed off to Ribadeo, and found our Parador quite easily. It is a modern hotel, overlooking the bay again, and interestingly our room is three floors down from ground floor level!
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