Detox

Strangely enough this holiday is leaving me utterly shattered. Not entirely sure that this is the general intended effect of holidays, but hey-ho.

So, I have taken it upon myself to embark on a pre-Prelim detox.

This involves;

~ Up early, bed early. Pretty basic stuff here- but perhaps not so easy to maintain... Particularly if you happen to be a budding insomniac- but we'll see how it goes!
~ Tea. Lotsandlotsandlots of tea. Non-icky-milky-tea, mind. For the next couple of however-long, I'm making it my business to binge excessively on tea and water.
~ Reading (plenty of): again something which proves a difficulty to keep up amidst homework, exams, etc., etc., etc., yet necessary to my mental wellbeing (what's left of it). Note To Self; Physics notes don't count.
~ Oranges, apples, kiwis, bananas, grapefruit, pears, peaches, blueberries, plums, mangoes, strawberries, pineapples, sharons, raspberries, grapes....
... broccoli, carrots, watercress, sweet potatoes, potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, sweetcorn, sprouts, aubergine, radishes, beetroots, lettuce, parsnips, swede... mmm 'nuff said.

~ Regular running (aspire to twice a week every week and not just sporadically).
~ Piano/Guitar practice (more of!). I get bouts of this, then drop off a bit. A habit I would like to change.

I'm starting by re-reading 'This Is All- The Pillow Book of Cordelia Kenn'. It's a tick against the reading box, and never fails to get me in the mood for actually doing stuff.

Need a room/wardrobe clearout, chucking out unwanted things and rearranging everything else. An Ipod clearout is also necessary- times and tastes have changed! Needs refreshing.

And yet more sailing...

The Most and Least Eventfull Day... (Not sailing, but stuff still happens...)

Nice conditions so far. A couple of fairly breezy days, powering along under skillfully hoisted sails. Classy stuff.

However, a day trip planned down the Forth for Thursday, and Sod's Law ensures a day of absolute calm.
Out with the paddles.
On with sore arms.

But for the tide (in our favour) we probably wouldn't have got anywhere much. As it was, we admitted defeat with our objective teasingly in sight, and settled instead for a nearby beach.

*Proceed "Attack of the Flies"*

Sitting on the beach proves unbearable and we take refuge instead on our grounded 'Fevas'. 

I collect rocks and shells.

Wilfred* collects trash. 

Anna (our much abused Instructor), spends a significant part of lunch shouting variations on "Wilfred! NO! Put that down!"

Rest of the group remains highly amused.

Finally, we escape Insect Island. Wilfred bids a tearful goodbye to his manky toy push-car and plastic crate. I hastily stash some last shells in his generously proffered lunchbox, and a weighty, unauthorised bag of rocks in our Feva's cockpit.

Inscentive is offered in the form of a Mars Bar** each for the crew of the first Feva to the slipway. It doesn't really appeal, nonetheless Michael and I paddle hastily and ceaselessly back to base.

The day's adventure was over. Nothing more could possibly occur that day.... or could it??? =O

Approximately two hundred yards from the harbour's wind breaker and my arms already anticipating freedom. Suddenly, mid-stroke I find myself very nearly deposited headfirst into the -very cold and damp- drink as the boat pitches violently and Michael gives a startled shout from the helm.

Naturally I turned around to complain, and was confronted, with THIS.

Now, I might have nabbed the photo off the internet (not having had a camera handy). But I assure you, this is exactly what it looked like. And not two metres from our boat. A tad disconcerting, but by the time it had followed us a hundred or so yards, we were seriously contemplating keeping it as a pet.

Goodbye to All That

4pm Friday brings with it an end to the course *sad face*.

Take a final shot of the harbour on the way out....
(Not that I remembered to get many others).

And another hour of  'peoplewatching' on the bus home (i.e., staring through the window).

A souvenire from the week;

Sunburn at the foot of my feet, ropeburn at the head (well, hoseburn anyway...). Quite a fetching combination, could be the start of a fad (patterned feet, not the hoseburn- that's just painful.).

(P.S. This photo comes with a HEALTH WARNING. - DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. -  Its soooore! )

________________________________________________
* One of us six burgeoning sailors of group RYA Level Three (cool stuff).

** Still watching the mail for mine.  >=(