So today, I’ve had a good clean in the boat and an extremely heavy load of laundry has gone for a service wash, and Craig, well Craig’s sort of pottered doing important odd jobs and repairs. As yet his cleaning of the outside of the boat seems to have passed us by, still there’s always tomorrow or the next day!
It’s blimmin hot here, the inside of the boat was measuring 32 degrees this afternoon, as advised by Meteo Max.
So Meteo Max, Craig’s last purchase before we left Lymington, very helpfully advises you of the level of clothing you should be wearing. I’m sure he must be Northern as yesterday he had a long sleeve shirt, was carrying an umbrella, but he was wearing shorts!
This afternoon he delighted us by wearing what can only be described as a pair of budgie smugglers and sunglasses!
This marina we’re in is not at all picturesque, to be honest if it wasn’t for the view of the rock behind us you could be anywhere in the world. We’re berthed between two other boats, one with a couple of guys who’ve lived on the boat for 20 years, have never moved it and have no intention of moving it.
The other side has been rented out to an English couple this afternoon who are staying for a month. They’ve clearly driven here, I mean the woman has bought her own washing up bowl on holiday, and this afternoon on one of the unloading of the car trips, the husband came back with a houseplant!
I mean I’ve always liked to make sure I was prepared when I went on my hols, but you don’t take a bloody houseplant. Still they’ve clearly settled in, we’ve just come back from dinner and they’ve put bunting up! Shoot me if I ever put bunting up. I’m just waiting for the sky dish to turn up.
Tomorrow, our skipper Gerald leaves us and then we’re on our tod. We are leaving on Thursday and our first stop is to the fuel pontoon, omg that could be a bad way to start on our own.
Hopefully, well we have no choice, we will plan the next leg of our voyage in the next day or so, or at least decide what direction we’re going in, although to get to the med evidently you go out of the harbour and turn left, so that’s easy enough. But who knows where beyond that, only time and the winds, and Craig’s sense of direction will tell. Good job it’s not my sense of direction, as Mr Ewing would confirm given half a chance I am geographically retarded! Still it could make it more fun if I was left in charge!