It’s been… wait, let me count… 60 days since we became bonafide Liveaboards.

Aside from a short Christmas break back on land with family, we’ve awoken to picture perfect views of the River Thames every day. I keep my trusty camera locked and loaded near the window so I can snatch a snap of the sun peeking across the water every morning.

The light at 7am in winter is always perfect, always breathtaking. I find myself letting out a long, soft, “woooooooooow” as I click click and click some more.

I’ve now collected zillions of #boatlife sunrise shots, here’s a small taste.

And there’s zero hot water. Oh yeah that puts a different perspective on things, doesn’t it? At minus 5 and half degrees celsius overnight last night – sunrises schumunrises.

So why don’t we have hot water? Because we’re gas-challenged.

We have an LPG gas bottle. We have a newly welded gas locker to keep it safe. We have a gas leak bubble tester connected to brand spanking new insulated gas pipes. We have an on-demand hot water boiler connected to the water system. Alas, we don’t have a magical gas safe certified human to connect our gas lines to the boiler and oven. We’re currently on our 5th gas human. Here’s hoping this one shows up next week.

In the mean time, we’re getting clean in the showers at the local public pool, at the office, in our bath (with an inch of water warmed from the kettle) or at our amazing and generous neighbour’s house. I’ve never valued something so simple as hot water before now. Perspective, wow.

We’re also cooking with a single burner camp stove on top of a brand new (unconnected) oven and hob. Luckily I have tons of experience with one pot camp cooking from our #vanlife adventure around New Zealand.

Apart from the gas sitch, the rest of our set-up is cosy and coming together.

It’s small, but it’s all we need actually.

My guitar tucks away next to the stairs, our coats hook-up next to the door, and we break out a couple of fold-up chairs if we have visitors.

Storage is a challenge. We bought a couple of cheap plastic shelves to hold our clothes, shoes and accessories and plonked it in the narrow hallway. There’s literally nowhere else it can go! Our futon bed sits on a painter’s drop-sheet on the floor and rolls away every day to keep any dampness at bay.

Living with a work-in-progress boat inspires renovation ideas daily. I’ve been madly drawing floor plans and elevations for a bedroom extension into the bow hold and a collapsible wheelhouse at the stern. Eventually we’ll make a bathroom & kitchen layout change too.

We’re hoping to build this extension and give our dear Odin a fresh coat of paint when the weather gets a little better. For a good looking finish, we’ve been told to wait until the temperatures sit above the 10 degree celsius mark. Maybe late March or early April will be the magic moment.

For now, I’m still enjoying my mind-palace version of Odin. Ah yes, Odin looking maximum schmancy with her big entertaining area on the outside deck, her fold up bed with ALL the storage underneath, a carefully crafted tiny kitchen with a place for everything…

I’ll leave you with a few pictures of future-Odin. Yeah, she’ll be a little like this, but more perfect.

Photo credit of Amy on Odin: Ryan Snyder