What is the ideal way to complete a 3 day marathon inluding transit across Britain and Ireland, an overnight Guinness fueled ferry trip, an impromptu Dublin bar crawl of double-handed drinking and singing with 2 croatians and a serbian, and no sleep?
... Apparently, a late evening having your first ever attempt at sailing, off the west coast of Ireland. For that truly authentic piratesque experience, you should be sleepless, bearded, unshowered and with hangover breath that would strip the tar from the decks of a frigate. And so it was I found myself cast into the teeth of west coast wind, hauling sheets, tacking, stowing and other such. Biting cold it may have been, but what breath was not taken by the ocean chill was well and truly stolen by the surrounding vistas of sweeping mountains and craggy islands, part shrouded by cotton wool clouds, and dappled with shafts of late evening sun. Sails in high contrast on sparkling water, white-house dotted green hills rolling in the distance.
A finall flourish of watercolour amber and pink as the sun slips below the water...
And lo, Im ready for another round of Guinness.
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