Wake to the monotonous singing of the cicadas – one of my favourite sounds because it tells me I am not in the UK. Took car into the nearest town for cheese, wine water etc and returned to meet the boatkeeper. He took us through the mooring proceedures and then we wandered back for breakfast of bread, cheese, yoghurt, coffee, fruit and salami – well, we need building up after the trials and tribulations of the last month. Decided to hop in the boat for a short trip and did the classic Monsieur Hulot for anyone watching. First Neil got in the boat and released it from the anchor. Then I was supposed to leap six feet over craggy rocks to release it from one of the rocks to which it was tied. Was not about to do that, so Neil got out again and realised it had to be released from the boat – not from land. After a lot of pushing the boat away from the rocks while trying to release it from same, we finally started the engine and pulled out into the bay whereupon the sky clouded over and it began to rain. Was beginning to think lovingly about the UK when the sun came out – a lot hotter than home so motored on till we saw a small bay with tavernas on the quay. Great, I thought, time for a drink but Neil was gazing skyward at a huge dark cloud. ‘Think we should get back’, he muttered – never liking to be the one turning away from a glass of dry white, but back we went and it rained again – harder this time and the gentle waves, with us on the way out, were definitely against us going back so we got soaked both ways.




Was enjoying it though – seemed a lot easier to deal with than recent events – anything would be. Finally we pulled into the home stretch and tried to tie the boat on the rock again having first tied it to the anchor. Did’nt work so we untied the anchor and tried to lassoo the rock while keeping it away from same. Whole process backwards but no-one to watch so we took our time and hopefully if the sun comes out tomorrow will jump into the boat and set off as though we did it every day of our lives. For the rest of the day there were showers and sun, so finally we took the little red car to Patitiri to look for sensible rock jumping shoes. By now it was getting towards 5pm so time for a snack. Taramasalata, feta salad, sardines and a bottle of cold Rose. Heard cheers coming from a bar along the street – realised it was England v. Paraguay – the first leg of the World Cup and we had scored a goal- I say we, but we actually had little to do with it. Funny how the world bonds together with sport even though it is competitive. Competing becomes fun. Losing is not important because many of us have to do that when we play games. Losing graciously is almost as important as winning. Off the field, pitch or court things change. It is no longer good to lose. Competition is serious and you win by any means you can. However as I’m writing this I think of the drugs some athletes have taken to give them an unfair advantage and realise that maybe competition is serious in sport and it isn’t good to lose – even graciously-think I might have to go and lie down – obviously talking a load of old cobblers.