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Barge Lyf

With England going to dog shit after Brexit was announced, I thought now was a better time than usual to do what I normally do and get the hell out of the country.

It was also anyway perhaps time to start working on my ‘move to the South of France, marry a man named Benoit and get a truffle dog’ life long aspiration. After all if we leave the EU, I’m going to have to get married quite quickly.

I mean I’ve had fun being back in Cornwall for the last 6 weeks, working for the SW touring bar Sky Bar, eating pasties, laughing at Cornish people, getting shit on by seagulls and of course visiting my mumma, but my inner compass was on the shake, and it was, inevitably, time to set off again.

Fast-forward a week and I’m in Burgundy, central France, living and working on a canal boat on the river D’Nivernais.

She’s a beauty. Sleeping 20, ensuite rooms, A/C, handsome deck and a fully stocked bar. Of course my bedrooms not really big enough to swing a French baguette in (that sounded ruder than expected), but what with previously living in a caravan and a bizarre, termite infested, smelly old Indian shared ‘room’, this is lovely. The small space doesn’t bother me either, it’s light enough, cool enough, and there’s something about small, organised living spaces that reassure me. Since India and after constantly being so broke, I’ve enjoyed and had to be really resourceful. I’ve always thought I would do well in prison.

Unbeknown to me until I got back from Bali, I had indeed got pretty fat whilst away. “Mum, do your bedroom scales work properly?!” “Errr yes”. **Throws self down stairs**

After the initial shock that I was no longer a bit curvy and now, well, fat, I decided France was the perfect opportunity to cleanse and shift some of those pounds that were believe me, a lot of delicious fun putting on. Naked in the pool Bintang beers and chocolate and raspberry sorbet ice creams I’m looking at you.

On arrival to France I remembered basically all the French do is drink wine and coffee, eat bread, cheese and pastries and smoke profusely. (All with an irresistibly sexy French accent overlay of course) Shit. Am I defeated? Update on that again soon.

Oh and I am learning French too, and of course in my mind I am already bilingual.

So anyway, the boat, I live on it, work on it, and my job is to take care of the rather well-off guests we have on board, all of whom stay all-inclusive for a week at a time whilst our fabulous boat cruises down the river, mooring somewhere new each day for ‘oooooos’ and ‘aaaaahhhhs’. The French countryside is fucking beautiful. More of that to come.

Le boat

Le boat

Armchair warrior.

Armchair warrior.

Auxerre.

Auxerre.

Oue est Paris?

Oue est Paris?

L'Etienne Cathedral, Auxerre.

L’Etienne Cathedral, Auxerre.

2 Comments

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  1. Geneva says:

    I really love keeping up with your posts, they make me laugh and I feel I can connect with your stories one way or another. I am not sure if I am being a total pleb but I can’t seem to find on your website where I can subscribe to your blog? Perhaps you should make a widget or a page so people can do just that and keep up with all your updates!

    Thanks for sharing 🙂

    Gen x

    • kimiyeah says: (Author)

      Hi Gen! Thanks so much for the comment. Well I suppose I wasn’t betting on anyone wanting to subscribe 😉 but, come to think of it, great idea! I will install one! Thanks for the feedback and so happy you are laughing. Kimberley X

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