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You can tell the academic year is coming to a natural end, as the posts to this blog increase in frequency. Today, being a Saturday, I took myself off to the sea, not the epic journey from London to Brighton, but a leisurely ten minute stroll through the city centre.
It was at Santa Lucia, famous courtesy of Dean Martin, that the rash decision to hire a boat was made. I am not a natural sailor. I got severely sick on a hovercraft from Pegwell Bay to Calais in the 70's. It was Swift or Sure, I cant remember which. Today I small row boat was hired, and rowed out over hte choppy waves to tie to a buoy a couple of hundred metres out. From that point till the return leg of the journey, I hung over the side of the vessel hawking bile up from my empty stomach and turning a delicate shade of mushy pea.
Back, almost, on dry land and feeling no ill effects whatsoever, on leaving the boat I missed my footing and fell into the harbour, losing my sunspecs which were recovered by a Neapolitan to whom I am forever grateful, and to whom I shall leave most of my possessions in my will. When it comes to the sea, I turn into Mr Bean. The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to find a comfortable position on black lava rocks and only managing to sear my scalp. Don't you love weekends.