L'Avenir - cruising Europe's inland waterways

  Smugness is a fairly unpleasant quality so if you were one of those irritated by the closing sentences of the last blog post I apologise and blame jet lag. Be assured that the scales have tilted and all feelings of self satisfaction have been tipped out and washed away by the deluge of rain we've endured since that one sunny afternoon. Mother swan and cygnets haven't been seen since, the champagne remains undrunk and on chill (although it now doesn't require refrigerating) and the daily trip to the baker for the baguettes has become someone's 'turn'. And anyway, how do you keep the baguette dry on the way back? Cabin fever is setting in. On the plus side the 'flurries of snow' forecast for today haven't eventuated (yet), the river level has gone down and the sun is rumoured to be making a reappearnce next Sunday  - and the cheese really is delicious.

Le Train Bleu, Paris Here we are once more. 40 hours from door to door via car, 2 buses, 2 planes, 2 trains, a taxi. and now, finally, our boat. I feel exhausted just writing that. Quite a lot of those long hours were spent waiting for connections in airports and railway stations. When, on touchdown in Paris, our pilot cheerfully announced that we'd made good time and arrived early it was good news for everyone- almost - we now had even more than 7 hours to kill before our train to Dijon. Should we leave our bags in left luggage and go sight seeing? When the automatic doors of the airport swished open and we were blasted with freezing wind and rain we decided that no, we had neither the energy nor will to drag our leaden feet anywhere, not even Paris. So, after an hour on the Air France bus ( the memory of last year's rush hour experience on the Metro still brings me out in a cold sweat) we found ourselves in the vast and draughty confines of the Gare de Lyon.We had ...

Not France! Bushrangers Bay, close to where we live in Australia. May Day. Or perhaps mayday!! Time, almost, to fly north once again in our pursuit of an endless summer. This year will be our sixth season on our boat and whilst I wouldn't claim we have the house winterisation down to a fine art we have, at least, learned the value of making a list and realised that it doesn't change greatly from year to year. The final couple of weeks at home are always a bit frantic as we attempt to catch up with jobs, family and friends.A lot of rushing around White Rabbit fashion. ''No time to say Hello, Goodbye! I'm late!" Speaking of rabbits we have had a plague of them on our property this summer. Those of you in the northern hemisphere may think it charming to look out of the window each morning and see dozens of bunnies cavorting in the grass or perhaps on the verandah looking in. I occasionally, fleetingly, think similarly - the baby ones, of which there a...