75% of the long grass by the gable end has been cut down by the roads department's Spring verge tidying up so that's another reduction in my work load.

The grass-cutters came yesterday and shaved the grass in what I fear must be the final one of the cuts that we contracted for at the end of last summer. From now on it's down to me. What a shame, the professional cut is so much smarter.

Claire visited for a few days this week en route home from a wedding in Figeac. Relaxation was her priority so we vegged out instead of doing the sights. After seeing her off at the station yesterday I went to the Dryades for my first full round. I whacked a couple of balls into the middle of nowhere and messed up big time on a couple of holes but on the whole it didn't go too badly. We'll see how this weekend's two competitions pan out. Will I recapture the Champion of Indre (Men - third series) title that I fluked a few years ago?

Anyway I am fully prepared, having obtained this morning from a local doctor the silly Certificate of Non Counter Indication to the Playing of Golf that the French public health system insists that one has before one can take part in a competition. He obviously thought it was pretty silly too since he didn't bother with any sort of examination but took my word for it that I was in good enough nick. He didn't even charge me for stamping the bit of paper which I thought was pretty decent of him.

I wasn't charged last night either thank God when I blew into a bag for the Gendarmerie. That's the first time in my life that I've been breathalysed but now I know that one 25cc lager shandy is a safe measure. I'm glad it wasn't the previous night when 25cc or more of white wine went down my throat at John's barbecue.

Maybe I should invest in a satnav. Despite knowing the way I managed to take a couple of wrong turnings thus lengthening the already tedious two day drive from Edinburgh to Barbansais.

But what a joy to arrive to already cut grass. It was expensive but we thought it worthwhile to keep the place looking neat and tidy while it was for sale. Avoiding all that backbreaking work that I've had to do every Spring was just a happy by-product. If it's still for sale at the end of the Summer I'll be tempted to argue for spending the money again.

Mind you I haven't got off entirely. For some reason they decided that the stretch of grass between the gable end and the road wasn't part of the deal so I've got about 100 square metres to sort out.

That plus the ceiling that has collapsed over the cellar has slightly taken the smile off my face.

I got back from Trinidad a week ago today and realise that I have failed to blog anything at all. Put that down to being preoccupied with getting ready to go to France for the summer, which I do tomorrow.

This time I am accompanied by a saxophone. I hope to entertain the cows and gain some elementary proficiency but I'm not putting any money on either eventuality.

I also plan over the summer to sort out the hundreds of photos I took on my trip. I need to find sufficient self discipline to discard lots but here is one I shall definitely keep taken on the boat returning from the turtle releasing expedition.

Now I saw some postcards in Port of Spain at lunchtime - BUT - they were faded, bent and dusty. What's more they were crap pictures. So it looks like no "wish you were here" correspondence dropping through your letterboxes any time soon.

Caramel came out of the water on Wednesday. That was a fascinating process. I took lots of pictures but they are still in my camera unfortunately so you can't see how it was done.

We sailed into a narrow channel and a vast machine trundled over us, slings were slung below the boat, a diver plunged in to make sure the slings were not fouling any essential under water bits and the boat was raised into the air. (We were no longer aboard.)

Then the travel-lift, for such is the machine's name, rolled forward on its massive wheels and held the boat steady above the ground. A man with a jet hose scooshed water all over the hull for ever and a day. Then a cowboy nonchalantly but with precision drove a huge flatbed truck under the boat. Supporting hydraulic ramps were raised, the slings were removed and Caramel was trucked off to her temporary resting place for two more days of cleaning, dismantling and storing. I think it's a bit of a job closing up Barbansais at the end of the summer but that's nothing compared to this. We ended up propped up on various supports with a long ladder to get in and out since we were still living aboard. That has been a wee challenge for my knee and I'm pleased to report it survived.

Of course I've been spared much of the work since it has required yachtie skills. Added to that Daniel and I had a day off on Tuesday and motored about a bit so I'm not complaining, just marvelling.

I bumped into a Leith registered yacht in the boatyard today and had a chat with the owner. He's been sailing round the world for several years, single-handled for the last while because his wife got fed up and jumped ship in Singapore and headed back to Auld Reekie.

Patrick and Daniel flew off to Brussels this morning and I'm now in Port of Spain till Tuesday hoping to find something interesting to do.

This is Caramel moored in front of the marina hotel and pool. It's not far to go for a cool beer and a swim.

Correction to the previous post - that wasn't a drain. We're not going around polluting the high seas. It was an inlet. Water is sucked in for flushing purposes but fresh water for drinking and washing is taken aboard when necessary. We have a 1000 litre tank for that.

Sinks and toilets empty into a waste tank. Obviously that can fill up and I'm not sure what happens then but when I am you'll be the first to know.

Sorry that more later turned out to be a lot later but I expected to be back on line later the same day or at least before leaving Guyane but that didn't work out.

We were moored about ten miles away from Cayenne and I was never in the town again which was a shame. However I had a number of fascinating excursions.

I stood on the spot from which satellites are launched. The union jack flutters in front of the main buildings so I suppose we are still paying our dues to the European Space Agency but it was conspicuous by its absence from the Ariane rocket that sticks the satellites up there and makes the money. Another example of basket case Britain abandoning anything that involves high tech engineering in favour of hair dressing and financial services. Look where that has got us.

A wonderful day out was to the Isles de Salut. This is your genuine Devil's Island where Dreyfus was incarcerated and where Papillon, according to his own account, escaped from. Not quite true apparently but what the hell the regime was just as bad where he was. The French could have taught the Germans and the Russians a thing or two about how to run a prison camp. The truly astonishing thing is that this camp was only finally closed down after the second world war.

I'm now in a marina in Trinidad about 30 miles from Port of Spain. It's everything that your Caribbean dreams might suggest. For the moment though pleasure is taking second place to preparing the boat for its eight months out of the water.

Tip of the day.....if you don't like housework don't ever buy a boat. It's ten times as bad. And that's without all the little repair jobs that need DIY skills and crop up quite frequently. How would you like to put your subaqua gear on and dive below to clear a blocked drain?

No? Neither would I but I've seen it done and held a rope to prevent the deblocker from being swept away.