Now I am safely away from the place that has been named enough, I think I can say yesterdays writing was a tad melodramatic. Melodrama is a by product of an uneasy mind. My mind has been anything but easy over the last few months. I feel restless and the place that has been named enough was not an easy bed fellow.
On the sliding scale of Italian I have been named worryingly Italian my new temporary family. My new crew are nearly all English. The boat is based out of France. They are not likely to break out into Italiano. I bumble my way through Italian all of the time. I seem to be a magnet for Italians and Italian things. As we pulled into Nice this afternoon I could sense Italians all around me.
Pulling into Nice was an experience. I got to drive our monster tender from Beaulieu. Our tender is a beast. It is 33 feet long. It has two large engines, crazy sound system and goes like snot. Luckily for me, I got my licence at the Riviera Sea School. I felt very comfortable moving the very considerable tender around the narrow pontoons and dock. I soon found my berth and noticed someone had stolen it. Luckily the offenders were other yachties and were only too happy to help me park my tender. I had to park the tender in reverse. At some point I may have pushed the sail yacht near me out of my way with my hands. It is what my Dad would do. I soon was tied up. A very angry French lady came out to ask me if I had hit her yacht. Biting back my choicest Italiano I mimed pushing her yacht with my hands. By this time another sail yacht was yelling French at me. A port guy translated.
“She wants to know when you are leaving”
Plainly this put my nose out of joint, I had only just arrived.
Maybe she thought I was Italian?
Or am I being melodramatic?
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