I know you must think me weird when I say how jealous I am of all you UK-dwelling folk and other international land-lubber types and your September events; namely the food festivals, harvest festivals, jam and chutney making, frantic fruit cooking fiascos of this fantastic time of year.
But I am.
My Mum has just finished potting up her kilos of Damson jam and is very proud of her huge Kilner jars full of damsons in Gin, seeping brilliantly into a deep, velvety purple in time for Chr!$tm@$. ( Couldn’t quite bring myself to exactly type the word yet, but you know what I’m saying). After which she’ll be tucking into a productive day making the Crab Apple jelly.
And I feel left out. I know, I know; here I am sitting on a beautiful, hundred year old racing yacht at anchor in the bay of St Tropez. It’s still pretty hot in the sun and there are glamorous motor yachts and villas and fabulous French folk (heavy with the F’s in this blog I’m noticing) surrounding me. But I’d give anything to be in my Mum’s kitchen making Damson jam and Crab Apple jelly; the radio on and possibly a bit of harmless rain outside, the windows steaming up with the excitement of it all.
Please don’t hate me.
I guess I had my week back home and I did get to make my stuffed apples. I should be grateful. And I am. I’m just a little nervous about the up and coming next three weeks. You see we will race in the Monaco regatta, the Cannes Regatte Royal and then finally the Voile de St Tropez regatta. Only 3 days in the next 3 weeks will be non-sailing days. We will have VIP’s to entertain and canapés to make, champagne to pour, a million sandwiches to make, regatta events to take part in, such as the Cannes regatta Tug-of-War (which we won last year) and all that on top of some pretty strenuous rope pulling, harness wearing, rig stressing, shanty singing, underwater sailing.
Phew, I’m tired already.
I think I’m getting too old for all of this ( Have I said that before?). My physio would probably agree although I’d take a guess he’s grateful for all the business he gets from the broken crew at the end of the season.
But once the St Tropez regatta is finished, it’s all over. The season is ended and we’ll be moving back into our winter crew house up the hill. It seems like yesterday I wrote my first blog ‘An Explanation of Sorts’, before all the racing began in March. And here we are; the end in sight.
So if I’m not around much in the next three weeks I hope you’ll understand why. I will try my hardest to keep you updated with the racing adventures and canapé building, crew cooking stories and of course loads of photos included. Make the most of it I say; come October you wont be able to get rid of me. Living in the crew house up the hill with a real kitchen that doesn't move and a real oven that works! Mushrooms to forage, Wild boar to catch, chestnut festivals and wine Chateaus to visit… And all with a constant supply of Wifi.
Just you wait.
Thanks for reading (and understanding), wish us luck and stay tuned for the sprint finish. We can do it! Mariquita’s sailing adventures at one hundred years old and my life at 33 Degrees.
Here we go…
