A strange kind of day, mostly spent just waiting for my boat to come in. No sign of Godot. And no little fishes in little dishes. I probably spent most of the time sitting in cafes by the harbour.
I romanticised about having a small business as a fisherman and poet. I guess both involve lines and networking. My great fear of drowning proved to be a downside, although the sea still retains a certain lure for me.
I could have taken the road to my destination, but it involved quite a detour – heading back inland and then out again. A little boat ride was just what I needed.
I boarded the big boat by motorboat at around 19.15 hrs. My travelogue records that I sat in the bar writing a letter to my friend Iain. Then I retired to bed – all included in the fare.
Let’s catch up tomorrow!
Psychologist on the Move 