We were truly tempted to stay another night, but after more than a month under way, we have barely covered a quarter of the distance to what we hope will be our new home in Diksmuide. We have reduced the distance by road by more than an hour thus far, which is something.
However, while forward progress is desirable, we knew a spot which we could get to by morning tea time and there there didn't seem to be any sense in overdoing it .
Therefore, after a less than arduous day in which the nice young lady in the lock insisted that we tether to a bollard with the result that one of us had to actually uncoil a rope for a bit, and we we had to provide cheery waves to three fishermen as well as to four passing cyclists, we gladly settled into our new mooring for a bit of a spell. Here is where we spent two days a few years ago, patiently waiting for the nineteen seconds that the Tour de France would take to pass us by. This time there were no waiting crowds to accompany us, just the splashes of the fish, the song of the birds and one or two monster houses which have sprung up on what once was wheat field to wink at us during the night.
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