On our way to Groningen – again – and we had a phone call saying that our friends Malcolm and Annette on barge ‘Rachel’ were not that far behind us on their way up from France. So we turned around – again – and went back to meet them. Both the small boats either side of the last, not quite big enough, mooring space happily moved along a bit so we could moor and be  ‘friends re-united’.

It was only a few days later that they called on the Thunderbirds Rescue team. They toddled off in their tender to visit other friends of theirs moored a few kilometres away and ended up running out of fuel for their outboard – right in the middle of a dirty great lake and a sailing race (I bet they weren’t very popular!) Rowing all the way back wasn’t an option, so they ‘phoned Thunderbirds and we formulated a rescue plan. G would set off in our tender (with electric motor) with spare fuel on board for them; it was likely to be a one way trip for him as the battery wouldn’t have enough power for the return journey; the idea being to top them up and then they could tow him home. Just as he was setting off they turned up – a lovely man on a houseboat spotted their predicament and they rowed across to him and he gave them fuel for their return journey. Thunderbirds was back on stand down.

We shared several pretty and remote moorings with them over the next few days.

Whilst out walking Muttley, I came across a small brocante with a lovely little chair for sale – the perfect size and shape for our bedroom. The only problem being that I had to walk it (and Muttley) 2.5 kms home along a busy cycle track.

No problems; when I got tired or cyclists were coming, I just sat on it and called Muttley back to me which caused much hilarity amongst the locals – the irony is that, had I been competent enough to cycle with it under my arm, nobody would have batted an eyelid! ‘Re-furbing the chair’ is another job now added to my list, although G says, “why bother; you can’t see it buried under discarded clothes anyway’’. Hmmm…..he has a point.

On the subject of decoration and refurbishment, I have added a new skill to my repertoire – picking spider poo out of curtains. I took down the 8 large, very pale, cream curtains in the saloon to see if they could be salvaged from the water stains. They came up remarkably well, apart from the copious black marks of splattered spider poo. Spider poo picking is, I’ll have you know, a very skilled job so, if you want expert advice on the subject, I’m yer man woman. During the heatwave I had to iron those curtains before re-hanging them (having first found the iron and unpacking it); I’d just hung the ones by the dining table when Jill and Gary popped by. Jill sat at the table to eat her lunch and had a bit of a mishap whilst opening a sachet of salad dressing – yep; straight up the curtain! The look of horror on her face was pricelessly funny, but at least the curtains and dressing were a very similar colour. Not wishing to be ‘outdone’, two days later I opened a bottle of pink beer which, unbeknown to me, had partially frozen in the fridge. It exploded as I opened it, so I shoved my thumb on the top as the contents headed towards the window; this ensured that the sticky pink liquid spread over an even wider area; running down the window and, literally, dripping off the ceiling. Bloody Murphy!!!

There has been a fair bit of discussion on previous blogs about our bed being a long way off of the ground – in addition to the additional storage created below it, I have found another advantage; you can paint the bedroom ceiling whilst lying on your back – no more arm ache; how cool is that? Gezina has given me a new nickname, ‘Jillyangelo’!

Anyway, enough of all that or you’ll be moaning that there aren’t enough pictures. I’m bemused by the, apparently, random gate posts (taken from a cycle path which isn’t wide enough for a car) and notice that Graham and Gezina have been throwing dog leads into the pot again.

One afternoon, G popped his head outside (for the first time all day) just in time to see a familiar name on a yacht passing by; the same as the name on his cousins’ UK based yacht….of all the yachts in all the waters…. it was his cousin Robert and Alison. One minute either side and we would have missed them altogether (nice try guys; you nearly got away with it!).

We had a good old natter over coffee and a promise to meet up with them in Franeker in a few days time – as it happened they kept popping up almost everywhere we went. In the end, we enjoyed a great meal out together one evening (also joined by Jill and Gary) and various cups of coffee, before they headed off out of our area. Great to see you guys; we really enjoyed your company.

The initial reason for going to Franeker was to introduce Malcolm to Nieko at the shipyard to discuss the work he wanted doing on ‘Rachel’ this winter. By the time we got to the shipyard, Francoise was also in need of Nieko’s expertise. Our old engine has always smoked a bit on start up but, normally, settles down once it’s warmed up a bit – not anymore; you couldn’t see us for the clouds of smoke and the fumes were actually rolling down into the cabin. We appeared to only be running on a fraction of our 6 cylinders. Rachel carried on for a few days whilst we sat about in the boatyard getting fixed. How I hate the noise from that bloody wind turbine overhead. Interesting boats and work going on though but not much fun getting Baxter across the boat we were breasted up to.

A few pictures of Rachel following us and our trip to, and through, Leeuwarden and the art work under the lift bridges