September 2026
This year we chose to winter Shensi in the town of Veendam, in the province of Groningen in the north of the Netherlands. At its centre the two canals of the Oosterdiep and the Westerdiep converge allowing a basin to form between them, and the municipal jachthaven where Shensi was moored is on the Oosterdiep canal which runs alongside the Molenstreek roadway.
As you can see from our last post for August, we arrived in Veendam a few days before the end of August, easily settling in and quickly being welcomed back by a few local residents who remembered us from our previous visits.
The start of September saw us taking the train into Groningen to pick up any post that may have been received whilst we were away for the summer (very little as it turned out), followed by coffees and a return journey. We left Casper on the boat as we thought it’d be too much walking for him; Pip however LOVES going to/from/on a train – we’re pretty sure that she always thinks someone she knows might be arriving at train or bus stations just to visit her – so she came with us just for the fun of it.
2nd September saw my 76th birthday arrive … with a very early 6am dog walk!!! We have to be very cautious with Casper these days as he’s been poorly for some time, so when we hear the padding of paws in the kitchen, one of us (ie ME!) needs to get up to let them out (but particularly Casper) to hopefully avoid another ‘clean up in aisle five’ situation (for Nicki). Fortunately today was a good day, despite the early hour.
My birthday then continued with a call from all the children, a brief dog walk with Pip (although she disgraced herself and ran off to find Nicki, who was making a shorter walk nearby with Casper), and a vet visit for Casper. An expensive appointment later saw us leaving the vet with bags of specialist dog food, which the vet felt would help with Casper’s output problems … and sure enough, within a day or two he was already back to his normal self! Amazing, as he had spent so long suffering with what we assumed were probably issues related to a combination of intense heat, advanced age and potentially having picked up some sort of infection.
Just a few days later I had a hospital appointment in Groningen to see a consultant about my knee – it had been pretty painful earlier in the year but now seemed to have settled down, so I was expecting maybe some physio to be suggested. However, it turned out that they were referring me for a knee replacement! And by the time I arrived back at the boat I had an email to confirm my surgery for 2nd October! I was not expecting that to happen so speedily! As it turned out, there had been some misunderstanding, and that date would in fact be an assessment date rather than an op date,
The very next day we were up and ready to set off on a week’s car journey to Portugal to meet up with Amy and Lucy in Cascais for a short holiday with them. Our aim had been to leave by 10am but ahead of that departure time, Patrick (a fellow boater moored nearby, with lots of contacts in the area) came along to let us know that imminently a rather wide pusher with attached platform would be squeezing along the canal, past us. So obviously we delayed our departure to watch the spectacle – there could only have been millimeters between the two vehicles and Shensi, but the pusher captain was incredibly skilled and passed us by with seemingly very little difficulty.
After that excitement, we were off, and over the next six days travelled from the Netherlands to Cascais via Belgium, France, Spain and finally into Portugal – a tiring journey in extreme heat with two hot dogs tucked in behind us. A couple of days into our journey we crossed into Spain at San Sebastian, and here we gave ourselves a rare break to explore a bit, including a ride on the funicular railway between Ondarreta Beach and Monte Igueldo (now a mountain top amusement park), and a walk along the promenade of the beach.
Annoyingly, just three days before we were due to arrive in Portugal for our holiday with Amy and Lucy, and their flights all booked and paid for, Amy was contacted by the owner of the resort to inform her that our villa had been double-booked, and although they offered us alternative accommodation, it was totally inappropriate for the four of us (plus dogs). So, after a flurry of research into other nearby options, Amy eventually found and booked another villa (albeit more expensive) and we all breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Anyway, continuing on, we passed into Portugal on our way to Cascais, passing some brightly painted, decorative windmills, Dutch-style structures located along the A23 motorway, in the Cova da Beira region, part of a tourism attraction.
Nicki and I were booked into our new villa (Vila Bicuda) a day earlier than the girls were due to arrive, so after we had settled ourselves in, we drove into the town to look around. Being a Saturday, it was very busy with queues of traffic snaking through the main drag.
The following evening we drove to Lisbon airport to collect the girls, and together we spent a lovely four full days, with trips to watch the sunset at the most westerly point of Europe
We then got up early the next morning to see the sun rise over Cascais beach followed by a dip in the Atlantic, beach and town walks, a drive around the region, a 7km coastal run (the girls, not us), and generally relaxing by the resort pool.
One of our trips involved a drive up the coast, first stop at a beach for an extended dog walk, much appreciated by Pip who loved chasing a ball through the surf.
A few miles later on we stopped at an awesome cafe for a terrific brunch.
Our route took us via Sinatra and although it is fantastically picturesque, we had to limit our visit to a ‘drive by’ because it was too hot for the dogs to visit and plus access would have been extremely limited because of the dogs. Portugal generally did not seem dog friendly.
The final day of the holiday began about 3am for all of us – we had agreed to drive the girls to the airport for their very early return flight, and as it was in the direction we would need to travel we decided to just carry on with the start of the next stage of our adventure. This time we were heading up to the apartment in the Alps, once again passing out of Portugal, through Spain and into France.
Two stops that I scheduled into our journey through France were (1) the Canfranc International Railway Station. (Now a luxury five star hotel, during the second world war the station became a center of espionage for Nazi and Spanish authorities. Officially, neutral Spain had formed an operational agreement with the Wehrmacht which saw freight trains carrying mined tungsten northwards while French grain along with trans-shipped Swiss gold was carried southwards. Passenger services also continued during the conflict, providing an escape route into Spain for both Jews and Allied soldiers) …
and (2) the Millau Viaduct, a cable-stayed bridge spanning the Tarn Valley in the Aveyron department, 2,460 meters long and 343 meters deep at the highest point, and with winds likely to blow at more than 200 km/h. An amazing and awesome feat of engineering.
Unfortunately, in between visiting these two attractions, Nicki and I had a rather traumatic driving ‘incident’ – I lost consciousness as I drove along a road in the town of Albi resulting in a few days spent in hospital whilst they checked me over for a suspected heart attack! Despite ECG monitoring, blood tests, etc, and two days of observation, the results were inconclusive and I was discharged with instructions to see a cardiologist as soon as I got back home … and no driving for six months. So, from thereonin, Nicki had control of the wheel.
Leaving Albi and with Nicki in control, we headed up to our ski apartment, managing to make the whole seven hour trip in one go, and both of us relieved to at last be in our own home again. After a good nights sleep, we began prepping the apartment for a visit from a local Immobilier (french for estate agent) a few days later, to get the apartment on the market.
