As we sat in the square outside the cathedral in Toul last night, we had even more time to contemplate than usual.
It is only a few weeks since we moved aboard, but it seems like forever.
Yet already the boat has become home to the extent that we are no longer travelling in a foreign country, we are watching it pass us by, and occasionally we jump through the looking glass to visit the bits of our choosing, safe in the knowledge that we are just a short stroll or perhaps a bus ride from home should something turn out to be not of our liking.
It is the least adventurous adventuring that we have ever experienced.
We can see, we think, how some can live like this for years yet never know what lies beyond the trail that leads from their barge to the supermarket. For many, their years become a blur of nameless towns and faceless people, erased from their memories by the all consuming need to move on to the next place and see the next people.
It would be easy not to stop we think, but to just keep going in an environment that's constantly familiar.
We think in time we will have to watch for signs of those comfortable habits creeping in, but for now, in Toul we wander, until we become familiar enough with the town so that when we return it will be like visiting an old friend.
Actually as we arrived our old friend with the accordion was setting up a stage and a tent beside the harbour, but sadly for him we had already made our plans, and couldn't attend our welcome party.