So …. where were we. Thanks to Bernard and Beatrice, Muttley lived to fight another day. We invited Bernard and Beatrice round for dinner on Monday to say thank you for rescuing Muttley and inviting French people to eat is quite a big deal. I cooked my little socks off all day doing tart tatin e things and roasted this and that leaving G to do the steaks. They didn’t turn up and all my starty bits went soggy. Then they did turn up and it seemed we had invited them at 7 and Beatrice didn’t finish work until 7.30 but our (lack of) language barrier hadn’t sorted that!!! They brought us bags of cherries and mirabelles from their orchard and we managed the language barrier surprisingly well. We had a brilliant evening and Bernard decided he was more than happy to drive Matilda Rose into Toul where we had decided to stay whilst G was back in the UK.

The cruising day was absolutely thick and solid fog, but Bernard turned up well prepared

and the sun came out eventually so we arrived happily in Toul in time for lunch on board. No matter what else happens, if you have a French person on board you absolutely must provide food and wine/beer. It’s just the way it is.

Graham was back off to the UK first thing Friday and I had a zillion plans for my time aboard without tons of cooking for himself and the associated washing up. With himself gone first thing I walked the dogs and then headed off into town for a bit of shopping (we blame it on Debbie) and found some rather lovely sandals. I decided to wear them home and, leaving the bright sunlight into the dark tunnel, missed the step and fell off them doing a fair bit of damage to both my foot and my arm!

Pouring a glass of wine and starting to prep my dinner, a knock on the boat from Austin who said that everyone was meeting up for pre dinner drinks in the marina and to come and join them. It was a great evening and guitars came out plus mouth organs and pre- dinner turned into a long night and no torches and an escort home which turned into a bit of a crash and one broken ankle (Perry) and one broken shoulder (me).

Given that I was on my own with two dogs (Daisy self sufficient) I decided to ignore the painful problems, but by Monday it was clear that I had to engage with the French medical system. Tex and Anthea from the marina came to check I was OK (which I wasn’t) and walked the dogs twice a day for me and Anthea even washed my hair for me (nothing more depressing than cruddy hair). Peter, moored in front of me, was there to help too. Sad to say that not one other single English speaking person in the marina made any offer of help. If this had happened on the UK Canals every one would of got stuck in to help.