A bit tardy doing blogs recently sorry, but it's been a busy few days, so I will play catch-up...

Unisex toilets. Need I say more? The first disconcerting thing about walking into the one at the Toisin D'Or shopping mega-mall in Dijon last week was the 18 year-old girl waiting just inside, possibly (hopefully) for a friend to come out. I don't know about you but this had an instant and suppressing effect on my need to urinate, as did the row of men's urinals in full view of any female walking past to the cubicles. But what can you do? When you gotta go you gotta go.

Anyway, that little adventure was all over in a couple of shakes, though the pretty 18year-old was still there when I left. Our eye contact was slightly awkward, and just that wee bit too prolonged, no pun intended.

That trip to Dijon was a bit of a domestic day. We made a list of things we still needed on board, and after scouring the shelves of the local shops decided to drive Van Rouge to Dijon, which TomTom told us was 45 minutes away and called us meanies for avoiding the toll road.

But that was a good thing as the route took us through back country roads and even an un-named lane that looked like it would become a mud track at any moment. As it happened it led us though a nice little place called Tart de Haut, which had us on the lookout - though we never did see her - for the High Tart herself. (On the return journey we went through Low Tart, but she presumably was also busy, possibly generating more business through cheaper rates, the scamp!)

The good news is we managed to buy a couple of bikes, having established with the boat brokerage that those on board when we first viewed the boat were never intended to be part of the sale. Dommage, as the French say, a pity, because we ended up having to pay 300 Euros. Still, we will now have the means of going to the boulangerie for the odd baguette, and exploring local towns and villages on our way south.

The next day...

Starting to settle into what passes for domestic routine, even to the extent last night of watching a DVD on the telly. This morning we awoke to a slightly cooler temperature - a hint of things to come - so turned on the warm-air blown heating to try it out. Works a treat, though we're thankful to be plugged in to the marina's onshore power as it will be a bit of a drain on the battery bank when we use it en voyage.

Looking around the boat, and using all its cupboards and drawers, I am constantly amazed at the lateral thinking that must go into boat design. Lateral, horizontal and vertical thinking really, as every spare centimetre of space is put to some good use. Just as well, as we're well on the way to filling all the nooks and crannies with all our stuff. But I do admire the sheer cleverness of design. I guess it must apply to any cramped spaces that double as living quarters, whether a motor home, caravan or orbiting space station. Space, at a premium, the final frontier.

Another quaint piece of domesticity here in the marina is the daily broadcast from "Radio Station Gare de l'eau" at 0930 on VHF channel 77. Basically it's a morning rally-round in English of those boaters who want to stay connected. This morning's session was conducted by Sandy on board a boat named Libertee (with an acute accent I can't fathom how to do on my iPad). She first of all finds out who's listening with a sort of roll-call, and then there follows a call for anyone needing assistance or advice, and the opportunity for everyone to share information or offer goods or services.

The broadcast also acts as a community notice board, and this morning we learned of a weekly "boating ladies coffee meet-up" in the cafe opposite the main church in town. I thout Liz would be sick overboard at the thought, but surprisingly she wanted to go along. Meanwhile I busied myself filling the twin water tanks on Liberty, swabbing the decks, working out how to attach the rest of the Bimini top to the flybridge (need Liz's help for that I decided) and then brushed up on my French irregular verbs in the saloon. C'est neccessaire, n'est ce pa? Especially for explaining to18-year-old girls in toilets "Excuse me, I am just going to have a quick wee. Please avert your pretty eyes..."