Natascha got a phone call at the beginning of June from a woman who lives in Kings Cross – she and her son believe that Sava is hiding in their garden. With the cat carrier in tow she headed towards central London, found the house and yes, there she was. After two months Sava was back! And immediately sticking her head into the corner where the boiler was. Curiosity kills the cat.

In the mean time the roof top garden was producing salad.

In Stansted Abbot’s Marina, Anton has his boat taken out, cleaned, blackened and painted.

We have a long cruising day behind us, we did indeed travel from Homerton all the way up to St. Margarets in one day. We swapped the central London area for a more natural environment.

Quintessence had to work hard to bring two boats towed together up north, but she did it graciously. Good we were 3 people, Adnan was cruising and Anton and Natascha were working the locks. Some of those locks are rather big and hard to work.

We did not kill the duck family.

A heron in an urban environment. He/she has wings and can fly away if there is too much going on.

Fireflies playing with the light on our boats.

Spring arrived, the nights got shorter, spiders are in their element, the meadows in full bloom – the nice & easier boater season started.

The first thunderstorm was on its way, the kale plantings enjoy the rain water, the stove is now a temporal ‘shelf unit’ for our cress.

Anton’s aloe plant likes to be caressed by his feet occasionally and Adnan loves to rummage around his Quintessence. There is always something to do on the boat.

Adnan returned and at the end of March and we finally moved further up to where other boats were moored. Tied to the concrete tow path with tall buildings on the one side it wasn’t precisely a nice spot. A bit more than one month living on the boat, Natascha came to the conclusion, things so far have been pretty tough and the energy level was low. And when things just couldn’t get much worse, they actually did.

On the night from the 1st to 2nd of April a rather big storm hit London and Sava our cat disappeared. Nat’s moral hit rock bottom.

Later on that day, Nat also got news from Berlin. Her terminally ill friend was induced in an artificial coma, her health deteriorated, she had to have a series of antibiotic treatments. Nobody knew if she will ever come out of it. Nat felt powerless, it was all too much, there wasn’t a thing she could do for her friend, apart from thinking of her.

This is all we could do for Sava.

We put up numerous flyers around the area. We managed to extend our stay for two more weeks. We talked to fellow boaters and each night went out with cat food. Nothing.

A bizarre thing happened. One morning a black cat jumped onto the bed, but it wasn’t Sava! Talking to Adnan, we somehow thought we know this cat. We found out who his owner was, a fellow boater, a girl who used to squat the building next door on Goldsmith’s Row. The cat was living in that squat too and came around once or twice to the flat there. Well, nice to see you again, Mr Twist, the cat.

Meeting those people again was an interesting coincidence, we came to understand that many former squatters moved onto barges due to the fact that squatting of residential properties was made illegal, in fact a criminal offence, since 1 September 2012. Of course many of them couldn’t afford the rent in London and moving onto a barge was the only option. And some of those boats were really in a desolate condition, simply because the people also didn’t have the cash flow to get a swanky boat. It became apparent that not just us but many others moved onto boats because London has become unaffordable to live, where many residential properties are left empty for years.

This morning after Natascha woke up and went to the front of the boat, she noticed that the door of Anton’s bedroom was wide open. She called him and there was no answer and so she went over to his boat. He wasn’t there and it immediately dawned on her – somebody broke into his boat. Nat came back late last night from a meeting and it was already dark, it must have happened before that. Then she saw that our bicycles on our boats were moved, somebody tried to nick those too. They also tried to enter our boat, for sure.

She called Anton and he came back as soon as he could, and yes, there were several items missing on his boat. Ironically, some things he actually wanted to get rid off.

Even though nothing happened to us, Natascha started to have this uneasy feeling and didn’t feel safe any more. Still we didn’t move the boats which resulted in her not leaving ours until Adnan came back.

Antonios & Natascha had to move the boats and we had to pass the Islington tunnel with the boats towed together. Never done this before, it wasn’t exactly an enjoyable event, but a memorable one. The boats, especially Antonios’, crashed into the tunnel wall again and again, damaged the side lights, scratches on the paint, etc. We had to endure a kilometre of near darkness, once we were out on the other side, there was no suitable mooring in sight.

We ended up at the bottom of the St Pancras Lock and moored up there. Anton didn’t want to go through the lock, Nat wasn’t happy with the location at all, not least because we were the only two boats there. This is in fact a no-go situation for boaters.

Adnan was in Switzerland for a week. Nat was alone, she wasn’t in the right space of mind to do anything, she was still numb from the news about her friend. This was also the moment when we left Hackney behind, it became clear to Natascha that life will not be the same any more, we will be on the move again and again.

Paralysis on her 39th birthday.