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Bonjour Paris!

You seem so far away from the boiler room on the boat I’ve been spending more time in recently. No central heating or hot water for the last few cold days, after getting a new hose for water supply and filling up the diesel tank, but that’s not the biggest problem for me. More than for my comfort and convenience, I’d just like to have things fixed, problems solved.

The semi regular electricity trip doesn’t shock me (geddit?) especially now that I know where to go to switch it back on, and doing the washing up in borderline icy water probably has some health benefit – who knows! I have neighbours I’ve been sending my home cooking to, almost as regularly as the boat needing water supply, and I can always have a hot shower on their boat now apparently – they have promised they won’t look or tell the other neighbours!

I’ve been enjoying good friends coming over for a casual Indonesian dinner on the boat, though I must admit I enjoy my time alone more, probably too much more for a social creature. I take pleasure in going up and down the gorgeous narrow red spiral stairs a hundred times a day to move things around and tidy up; in making and sipping my coffee or soy matcha latté upstairs in the bright open plan kitchen; in sitting at my creative desk to read or write something or at my work desk to do admin and video calls with clients; in playing music on my Roberts radio upstairs while cooking or on my record player downstairs while just thinking – and I think a lot.

The idea of living on a boat doesn’t excite me. I’m loving it, even with the regular surprises, but I don’t see it as an excitement. Well, if you know me at all, you know I don’t get excited. I’m loving the unusual space, the water around me, the movement gentle or less so, the isolation it provides for me and the constant learning and problem solving. It makes me feel closer to myself as I get to know myself better – terrifying, I know, but I watch horror films regularly.

You seem so far away with all the paperwork required for my long stay visa. And when there’s any delay in getting any document, you feel even further. But not forgotten – yet. I guess I’m just living in the present more these days – because when there’s still enough water in the tank to flush the toilet, I’m reminded of my existence: I can flush, thus I exist. That, and my casual meditations.

I feel that I miss things, places or people less here on the boat. Since moving in two weeks ago, my son has been once to take me to a fancy jazz dinner as a birthday present last weekend, my teenage daughter arrived yesterday on the train (by herself these last couple of times) to stay for a few days, my old friend Katie, who knows my antiques quite well and coincidentally doesn’t require showering regularly, is visiting from Paris for a few days until tomorrow, and my Parisian boyfriend knows where to find me when he misses me badly enough. Things are going well – no, things are going great!

I’m not planning on rushing into trialling my supper club on the boat, I’m just going to do what feels right. At the moment, it feels right to have solitary hours to contemplate and brainstorm internally and type a few words peacefully in between my mundane ‘boaty’ activities. I am in the right place at the right time – even when the toilet doesn’t flush, occasionally, and I believe this acknowledgement is what will take me to the right places at the right time, always.

Albert Bridge says hello!

londres, le 26 octobre 2025

je t’embrasse !

d.o.