We once again apologise for the interruption….
Well it’s been rather a long time since my last missive. This is mainly because I have no wish to bore you with more tales of DIY hell, endless painting and B&Q battles. They happened. Again. That is all.
The main item of interest in the interlude was a sailing holiday to Greece. Himself was keen to bring friends, any friends. This may have been in order to dilute the inevitable psychopathy that will be the result of spending ten days in a very confined space with the person you jocularly refer to as your nearest and dearest. Add a night or two in an airport hotel at either end and the delights of negotiating the M25, and solitary confinement in a padded cell suddenly starts to look attractive….
Of course, this being us, it couldn’t possibly be straightforward (now what was Himself’s favourite lament again???). We discussed the possibility of inviting a selection of friends (mainly his, but some mutual). They were gradually dismissed. Too flaky… Too busy…. Too crazy… Too smelly…. Too pissed….. Too weird…. Too bossy…
One evening, on my own in the pub, I ran into a couple with whom we sometimes enjoy a few (too many) drinks. After a little social lubrication, I mentioned the sailing trip and tentatively inquired if they might be interested in such an enterprise. To be honest I fully expected them to declare it a step too far outside their comfort zone and politely decline. To my astonishment the suggestion was greeted with excitement and overwhelming enthusiasm. The following morning (ouch!) I waited for the ‘oh dear, did we really agree to that?’ text. It never came and somehow the idea grew legs. I should probably mention at this point that Himself and myself had never spent time with these people outside the pub (well, ok, I once motored a few miles down the river with them on their astonishingly temperamental motor launch).
The upshot of it all was that the four of us finished up on an early morning flight to Greece, they full of excitement and bags of new clothes, us, sleep deprived and snarling gently at one another. The arrangements for getting to the boat were a little complicated, but that didn’t matter. Instead of landing at Corfu, the pilot announced that he was unable to find it (cloud with extra cloud) and we were diverting to Thessalonika. That’s the opposite side of Greece. Thessalonika was also shrouded in thick cloud, but had the necessary software to bring us in. Then came the ‘guess what guys? You’re stuck here for the night’
| Welcome to Thessalonika... it hardly ever rains! |
Six hours across Greece, through the cloud shrouded mountains, past the ‘beware of bears’ signs and along endless dreary motorways, we were eventually decanted onto the shore by the boats.
After a brief hiatus where we scrapped over luggage and were assigned to our vessels, we headed for the bar. A friend of Himself’s was already there, and suggested we dine in a restaurant a few miles down the road. He offered to drive us. Due to a shortage of seats I got to travel in the boot. Luckily it was a hatchback.
| Spot the bears? |
The sailing itself was largely uneventful, although the Ladies were initially a bit worried to discover that a sailing boat tips over somewhat when you put the sails up. Of course, as it involved sailing nothing quite went according to plan, anchors dragged, engines played up, the wind swung round to the wrong direction and there was the occasional thunderstorm.
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| A bit more beer |
| Nearly enough beer |
After one particularly windy day we decided to give everyone (ourselves included) a day off. Master navigators that Himself and myself are, we went for a bit of a walk. We struck out, heading south and kept an eye out for a particular bay which we had visited on a previous trip. It was supposed to appear on our left at some point, so on we slogged, through long deserted villages and spectacular wildflower meadows, down dirt tracks and through ancient olive groves.





