OUR BLOG
"There's always a plan, but unexpected things happen and we just go with the flow. Though I do believe that fate and destiny often play their part"
sailing blog
It's still Springtime here with some days like yesterday giving us a heavy downpour, followed by a stiff breeze. By afternoon the sun shone brightly, but in the wind it still felt fresh. So, on went the coats and into the countryside we went before everywhere gets that scorched earth look.
2 Comments
The toilet broke and wouldn't flush. There was no option - dismantle the whole pumping system. Not a pleasant job. The service kit came with lots of new seals, valves and O rings. The reassembly diagram would have made more sense had it been in Swahili. Three hours later my swearing was down to a bare minimum. All was finally fixed in under four. The flush now works a treat. Two salient points. One, the main cause was a live sea slug had come up the pipe as a baby and then grown into a monster inside the mechanism…...I kid you not. Two, the temperature inside the boat was 90 degrees…… any longer and I would have died.
I did have the camera to hand. Should I take a picture of the giant slug or the thermometer? Sorry, the slug went overboard as soon as I saw it. On Sunday we saw red. And then there was more red. As the afternoon wore on we could see nothing but red. Don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about anger here……this was the Annual Malta Strawberry Festival held up North in the small village of Mgarr and attended by what seemed like most of Malta. Tons of huge crimson strawberries are grown across the island and the farmers bring them to the festival to sell. Expert patisserie chefs prepare tray upon tray of exotic cakes. You could even get a strawberry pizza if that's your cup of tea. As the picture above suggests, it's also the artichoke season, so plenty of them were cleverly intermingled in the displays as well. I was with three women (one of them Nicki of course) so you can imagine the oooh's and ahhh's every time we passed yet another stall creaking under the weight of exotic strawberry delights. I suggested we find a nice little bar in order to avoid any further temptation to put on five pounds in one afternoon. All agreed and we plonked ourselves down with a glass of vino to watch the world go by. And where were we sat……four feet away from the hog roast. Imagine sitting just slightly downwind of a whole pig gently roasting in front of your eyes. Apart from the visual torture, the smell was tantalising. But, I'm pleased to report none of us cracked (slight pun on crackling there!) and we all went home for poached salmon and salad with our waistlines unaltered. Just to clarify, the girls are on diets you see, readying themselves for the bikini season ahead. Back in the day, far flung venues such as Wigan Casino, St Ives, Blackpool Mecca, Nottingham Palais and Yate (to name but a few) played host to my musical passion. It was all about Northern Soul, a sort of secret underground movement that enticed thousands of people from all over the country to come together and dance their socks off at weekend "All Nighters" and "All Dayers". Whilst boring kids were tucked up in bed or out fishing for the day, we were pirouetting around the dance floor like "Strictly" contestants on speed - which, off course, most people were! The point of this little introduction is to say that each place we went to had its own very special "signature" tune. These tunes are etched into my soul and for some reason current everyday occurrences cause them to pop into my head at random. Yesterday was no exception. We arrived back in Malta and all I could hear in my bonce was that Yate Northern Soul classic from Ester Phillips - "What a difference a day makes - 24 little hours". http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6CAeDN9er8 The morning before started with a taxi ride to the coach station. Then we suffered the 3 hour journey up the M4, and through a typically snarled up London, to get to Victoria. Humping our not insignificant amount of luggage across sahara smog filled streets to the underground was not nice. Being right in the middle of rush hour, the tube journey to Heathrow was bloody hot and crowded. Inevitably, checking in cases at the airport involved standing in a long line for another hour. OK, a glass of vino in the departure lounge did take the edge off things a bit, but the following three hours on the plane was a real chore. Thankfully, good old Jane (less of the old she'd say), was waiting for us at the other end ready to whisk us away to our beds at her place. It was 2.00am in the morning when we entered her house. And then, yesterday, that tune just kept playing inside my head over and over again. "What a difference a day makes - 24 little hours". You can imagine just how tiresome the journey was, but here's what 24 little hours can really do……….
|
A FEW PICS OF COMINO Click a photo to enlarge and use side arrows to scroll through. COMINO IS CURRENTLY HEREDID SOMEONE SAY SEAFOODOn our journey from Portugal to Greece we enjoyed amazing seafood almost everywhere we stopped. Finding the local fish market was always a priority because seafood was so plentiful and so reasonably priced. And, the displays were a feast for your eyes.
Locating a market sometimes meant pounding the pavements in searing heat, but if you kept your eyes peeled, you often came across a little clue. The pic below was a rather less than subtle advert for a fish market - it was eight feet tall.
Freshly cooked onboard, a plateful of giant prawns, baked in wine and garlic, washed down with a few glasses of local vino, was like heaven. Watching the sunset on the boat eating a meal like that was the epitome of "living the dream".
Now we're in Greece we've another favourite to savour. I'm talking about fried Calamari. It's usually good, but every now and then it's off-the-scale fantastic. At Natalie's Taverna on Kontokali Beach in Corfu, it was nothing short of epic.
We're based in Lefkas now and It's been a bit of a mission to find somewhere just as good. And we have. Rakias is a mere ten minute walk from the marina and this little fish market, with its very own taverna attached, is quite sensational.
Oh...and it's also worth mentioning that, on occasions, a bit of barbequed Octopus is on the menu at some of the tavernas we frequent. Can I resist....no. SUNSETS AND DRAMATIC SKIESNo filters, or any other monkey business, have been used to enhance these images.
OUR ADVENTURES FROM THE BEGINNING CATAGORIES
All
THE ARCHIVE
March 2024
SEND A MESSAGE |