Late Summer

Summer is over, it's even been confirmed by our Guiringuito (attempt to transform our urban balcony into a beach bar). We're now officially in 'Edicion Otoño'.

I was laughed at by a student for admitting I'm only now really getting into the swing of the new term and we're nearly in November but I'm not the speediest person in the world.

Summer started kicked off in Barcelona with just enough classes to tick over and plenty of time for beach and water sports priorities. Including having dolphins jump around us on whilst we were paddle surfing after I spotted a fin which looked suspiciously shark like.

I flew back to British summer time: a sharp drop in temperatures and change of sailing conditions. From bikini to fleece hat in one short low-cost flight. The challenge to pass my Yachtmaster (sailing boat captain) began in earnest and days of revising led up to the crucial week of practical training and exam. Pootling around the Solent felt like being on a busy motorway compared to cruising around the Pacific with no boats in sight. Your concerns consist of planning the next meal and adjusting the sails to head roughly in the right direction for the next few hundred miles rather than a constant lookout for other boats and the palaver of checking the tides, negotiating space in crowded marinas and actually having to direct a crew rather than do your own thing being on solo watches. A very different kettle of fish.

We enjoyed Mediterranean conditions for the whole week up until the exam days which featured relentless drizzle, navigating a narrow river in the dark and fog and an emergency trip back to Salamander for extra layers. Eating pasta dinner in the fog keeping watch for ships looming over the horizon was a stereotypical snapshot of British stiff upper lip. It was definitely the most nerve-wracking week I've had in a long time and I was very relieved to be finished, officially captain!

It rained in Italy, another excuse to spend time sheltering and eating more food, and I got sunburnt in Yorkshire in a strange turn of events. I now feel able to confirm that Genova does indeed have top notch pesto and ice-cream after sampling the vast majority of them and that public transport isn't a strong point as we nearly gave ourselves heart-attacks trying to get to our return flight on time. Running up to the gate as the plane was boarding, only missing camera crew and a storyline more dramatic than : the train was full, the next train delayed and a taxi driver quoted us £400 to drive us there.

 

Tropical conditions for the Egton Agriculture Show in North Yorkshire. I took the tough decision of flip flops rather than wellies and won. All worth it to see the 'Best Fancy Pigeon', an impressively feminist sheep dog trials and try all the drinks on offer. Although nothing quite lived up to the coffee and walnut cake we'd made earlier.