one which cannot be easily found in the UK.
Crepes and waffles.
last year I went to Dunkirque for a crepe.
this year I went to Breskens for a waffle.
Des the instructor, looked a bit like this... he was nursing a sore head after a night out with friends. so he was quieter than usual. which was a blessed relief. not too many of his rubbish jokes.
and then to quickly reprovision with a bits from the supermarket... those crazy dutch know how to eat well dont they.
thanks Des for the instruction and the company of course.
all of those. and when I went for my sleep... we tacked just before. and then 2 hours later we were back exactly where we were when I went for my sleep. just goes to show. theres no time for complacency or sleeping across the channel or north sea. the track shows the route before my phone died. I didnt sink. the windfarm was just off to starboard the whole time. we missed it by just a few meters. I could hear the blades turning.
the westerly... the fucking bastard westerly that always gets me on the way home. just when you think you're winning having tacked 100 times into the entrance of the Crouch and think... yes! im onto a long reach now... come on... yes yes... NO. the wind backs and you end up facing 3 more hours of relentless tacking... or...
Put the bloody engine on. I admit it. I gave up near the river roach and engined back.