I think this morning I slammed the door towards ever going back to what most in the Western world would consider a remotely normal life. I ‘just’ went for a snorkel swim to the beach and subsequent run (bless me foresight – having left my trainers on the beach the night before!). The ‘just’ another morning run once again took my breath away. Around the first corner came into view the most stunning tucked away bay with esmerald blue water, rock caves and pine tress down to the water’s edge. Around the next corner the remainders of a Byzantine village revealed themselves. We are talking thousands of years of history at hand-reach! I checked out their kitchen and chimney which were still clearly distinguishable. Around the next corner and a sweaty run up the hill (even at 7am the sun’s already starting to get rather powerful. Disclaimer: If you don’t like dripping heat, the Med is no place to be in July and August.) a little tree top Café pops out of nowhere with the phone number of the owner who lives down in the vast and otherwise uninhabited valley. A few steps on, majestic arches of an ancient Lycian town take the rest of my breath away. Sooo much natural beauty – countering all the horrible atrocities you hear on the news. This world is full of extremes and I guess we chose which impressions to take in. I trust that impressions on the soul are at least as powerful and influential for our health and happiness as is the food that we eat and the people we chose to surround ourselves with. Here’s a massive bow with tons of gratitude towards the beauty of this world, the courage and luck we’ve had to discover it, and the future of my children growing up surrounded by a beauty for which worlds simply fail me.
Beauty might bring happiness. But happiness always brings beauty.
Back on the boat, ‘real’ life is back as we discover our watermaker has given up on us just as the tanks are running low. The over five year old membranes need a clean but now the pump doesn’t seem to work so we can’t pump through the cleaning solution ourselves, it seems. Finding a qualified professional who knows what they are doing is a thing close to impossible in Mediterranean countries in the absence of trustworthy (key word!) local contacts. It also means we have to pay horrendous marina fees for at least a night every week to top up our tanks until we can get this issues sorted – worst case until we get new membranes, probably not before Malta two months down the line. Ah, the joys and challenges of cruising life. Ok, maybe that door that I slammed before is not quite that closed – maybe one day I’ll be ready again for the convenience and ease of life ashore;) Never say never to anything!