I’m Sailing

I decided to sleep on the deck that night, but woke in the morning and almost fell overboard as I had to chase down my blanket and pillow that had flown off me in the early morning gusts of wind. Lucky that I did sleep on the deck because, once I had tracked down my bedding, I quickly realized that our anchor had come loose and we were quickly drifting towards another boat that was anchored behind. We pulled anchor and found another cove that was better protected to have breakfast and go for a quick snorkel. A short while later we looked out to the channel and saw that the wind was blowing quite hard that day, and quickly made our way out to have some more and see how fast our 50 foot boat would go. For those of you who have never been sailing, or been part of the crew, I will do my best to explain the excitement and adrenaline rush that comes with it. First off, the wind was howling that day and Suzanne said that we should probably not run with a full sail to control our speed. Rob, being Rob, said no way and that we should see what the boat could do. Let me point out here, that had Rob said we should put a reef in to control our speed, Suzanne would have been the one to say no, and that we should give it her all. Soon we will at full tilt and blazing down the Med. At one point, I would like to say around 14 or 15 knots, Rob leaned over to me to say, loud enough for me to hear, but quiet enough for Suzanne not to, that we probably should have put a reef in. Regardless, we hit a top speed and safely had nothing but fun! Sailing is really interesting. At some moments you are surrounded by nothing but the wind on your face, the lull of the ocean, and peacefulness. On the other hand, some moments are stressful, hard work, and filled with nothing but rushes excitement. There are few other moments in life that I can compare to the moment when you are about to turn the boat a full 90 degrees, have a giant boom swing from one side of the boat to the other, have to pull lines in on one side and send them out on the other , and oh, did I mention that the boat you are turning is 50 feet long? Pure fun.



But like all good things, our day of racing around had to come to an end as we had hoped to make it to Corsica by the following day. So reluctantly, we dropped sail and made our way to the next bay to make some dinner and spend the night. Once anchored, the ladies made a wonderful dinner that we sat on the deck and enjoyed, followed by some cold beverages and lots of conversation. That night a wind storm came our way and Rob, Mike, and I slept in shifts to make sure that our anchor would hold. Our anchor held and we awoke in the morning to blue skies.

We Know What We Are Doing. No! Really We Do!

Up early, we started our day with the included breakfast at the hotel before showering and getting our bags together to make the journey down to the port to do the shopping for the week, load the boat, and set sail. Unfortunately we hit our first snag… the taxi driver was an asshole. We had Tina, the lovely front desk girl, who also offered me a job and place to stay if I could tutor her son in English, to call a taxi for us. She did, but when the driver arrived he lost his cool when he realized that the nine people he had agreed to pick up actually had bags with them as well and wanted to charge us an extra twenty Euros for the fifteen minute fare. Who would’ve thought that people leaving a hotel on a small island in Italy might actually have bags with them?! Apparently not that guy. Tina, being as beautiful and helpful as always, called and arranged for a second taxi to come get us and offered her brother to take the rest of us in his car down to the port. This driver, opposite to the first, was excited to have our money and gave me his number so that we could call him when we were done sailing to take us to the airport. Being that I was the only one who spoke Italian and that he didn’t speak English I rode with him and told him the story of the other driver who lost out on our business. He laughed and said that he was grateful. He also waited for us as Rob filled out the boat paperwork, and invited me to join him for coffee to pass the time. Funny thing, as he dropped us off at the port we happily gave him the twenty Euros that we refused to pay in fare to the other driver. Now down at the port, we dropped our bags at the boat house and divided up the shopping list and headed to the stores.

A couple of hours later we were making our way through the streets of Sardinia with multiple over-loaded chopping carts consisting of lots of food, and even more beers and wine. I’m pretty sure the ladies told us at least ten times that we had bought too much alcohol, but Rob, Mike, and I assured them that it was the right amount. You will find out later on that the ladies may have been right, but we stubbornly proved them wrong. After getting all of our food and booze, our bags, and all the snorkeling equipment we needed onto the boat, we did our final walk-through with the charter company and got ready to set sail.

Now, let me add here that both Rob and Suzanne are accomplished sailors, having chartered and captained many boats in their lives. So there was no fear or second thought from us their crew, or the charter company, as we began to pull away from the mooring. We all thought, okay here we go… smooth sailing ahead. None of us could’ve been more wrong. To start off, Rob asked me to throw off the bow lines when he gave the command, which I did. Unfortunately, as I threw it the back end of the line somehow hooked the cleat on the way down and retied us to the bow line, which turned the stern back into the dock. Luckily the stern did not hit the dock as I realized quickly what had happened and released the bow line (for the second time). Not so lucky was the fact that as the stern was pulled back towards the dock, the bow line that was stuck in the cleat drew the line taut, and therefore pulled it into the prop which shredded the line, which the staff unhappily showed us while yelling in Italian as we pulled away. Oops. A bit embarrassed, and now slightly nervous we decided to put that behind us and pulled into the channel to find some wind, raise the sails, and have some fun. Once in the channel we did find a steady wind and with full sails above us, charts in one hand, and a cold beer in the other we were finally sailing! After having some fun we decided to make our way to a nice protected cove to drop anchor and spend the night. Full of excitement we reached our destination and pulled in. Unfortunately, we forgot to keep an eye on the charts and ran the keel directly into a rock at about four knots. Oops again! We struck the rock with such force that it threw all of us forward, knocked the frames off the door jams, busted the bolts loose from the table, and sent almost every picture that was hung on the walls crashing to the floor. To top it off, the impact made a loud enough noise that every person in every boat already anchored in the cove came to their decks to see what had happened. Embarrassed once again, we quickly threw the boat in reverse and found another spot to anchor. Once we did find a good spot, rob, Mike, and I jumped in the water to assess the damage and determine if we needed to head back to port in the morning.










There was some damage to the keel, but fortunately it seemed to not be enough to ruin our trip. So, once again, we put this behind us and continued on with our great sailing adventure.

Timeout

I want to take a minute here to fill you all in on a few details, remind you of how I got to this point in my trip, and give you a little history about my family that you are about to hear so much about. First of all, for a bit of recap. At this point in my trip I have been away from home for seven months, and more importantly have spent most of those seven months alone. During the month spent in New Zealand, month in Australia, two days in Singapore, two weeks in Egypt, one week in Sicily, three days in London, two weeks in Ireland, two weeks in Scotland, three days in Amsterdam, three days in Belgium, and one week in Paris, I only slept in the same bed for more than two days a few times. Needless to say, I arrived in Ischia a bit tired and ready to be in one place for a while. After being in Ischia for two months my body was ready to resume traveling, but my mind, however was in another place completely. The day I left the island was one of the hardest days of the trip thus far, and the worst case of homesickness I would experience quickly set in. I set my mind to one thing… make it to the sailing trip, and if I still felt the same after, I would simply go home. Well here it was. Decision time. I was about to set off on the sailing trip that could possibly be the turning point of my journey, or the end of it. To say that I was looking forward to meeting up with my family would be more than an understatement. My cousin Rob, well actually my mom’s cousin Rob, is someone that I have always felt very close to even though geographically we are not close at all. He and my mom grew up much more like brother and sister than cousins, and in some way I feel that that had an impact on the closeness of our relationship as well. I don’t think I can accurately describe the happiness and calm that I felt when Rob, his awesome wife Suzanne, and beautiful daughter Rachel walked out of the baggage claim in Sardinia, with their friends the Allegra’s, their two beautiful daughters Sierra and Lauren, and Rachel’s equally beautiful best friend Kiara. It just seemed so easy as we sipped on a few beers that first night and talked story. For the first time in a while I truly felt completely at ease, and couldn’t help but be one hundred percent excited to get on the boat and sail!

Longest Day of Travel Ever. Well, Almost, but that’s another story for another day.

Thursday Morning I woke up for would turn out to be one of the longest travel days of the trip, second only to a trip from Croatia to Italy, but we will get to that one later. As for this one, the plan was a train from Nice to Genoa, that included three transfers, and an overnight ferry from Genoa to Olbia, Sardinia, where I would have to take a bus from the port to the airport and wait for my cousin to arrive from the States, and then take a taxi to a town on the other side of the island. So the journey began. On the train from Nice to Genoa I got lucky and scored a six seat to cabin to myself, plugged in my ipod, thanks again Jenn, and zoned out for a bit. Eventually at one stop the most beautiful Italian woman joined me in the cabin and gave me something to look at when the stunning coastline got boring. Eventually I worked up the courage to talk to her, and we killed a little more time with small talk, that she definitely did not seem as excited to participate in as I was. That’s okay though, as I quickly found out she was from Milan, and therefore wasn’t expected to be over friendly anyway. Getting off the train in Genoa I walked the 2 kilometers to the ferry port and tried my best to patiently pass the next four hours before I could board my ferry for Sardinia, and what would turn out to be one of the most uncomfortable journeys I had yet to experience. Once on the ship, I found my way to the seat I had reserved, unloaded my bags, and made my way up to the top deck to grab a beer and enjoy some fresh air. Shortly after that, the ship departed and the 10 hour overnight trip was underway for the beautiful island of Sardinia. After a beer I made my way back to my seat, popped a couple of Tylenol PM’s and tried to fall asleep. Unfortunately for me, that sleep never really came, and next thing I knew, we were pulling into the port of Olbia. Off the ship, I made my way to the bus stop and boarded a bus for the train station where I needed to transfer to another bus that would take me to the airport, where I was to meet my Cousin Rob and his family. I arrived at the airport around 10am, found a nice row of seats that was not occupied and finally got some sleep as I waited for their noon arrival. At this point I had been traveling for the last 24 hours, with hardly any sleep, and could not wait for their plane to land. Of course every time I woke up to check the status of their flight the screen said it was delayed another half hour. Finally, at around 3pm, they landed. Somehow, as soon as I saw my family’s faces the exhaustion and frustration left me and I was simply happy to see some familiar faces. We quickly jumped into a taxi and made the 45 minute drive to the town they had booked a hotel in. Once at the hotel we made our way to the patio for a few beers and some time to catch up. We sat on the deck for a few hours, talking, laughing, sharing stories, and simply just enjoying the view of the beautiful island and turquoise waters that surrounded it. As we looked out to the sea we couldn’t help but imagine what the next week was going to be like sailing the waters of the Med on our 50 foot sailboat. I couldn’t help but think, “Life is good!”

Pit Stop In Nice

Both Sara and I had to head back to Nice, so we got up early and made our way back down the French Riviera. Sara had a friend from Canada meeting her for a week in Nice and I needed to make my way back across the South of France and into Italy to meet up with my cousin Rob for a sailing trip, so decided to spend a night in Nice as well. At the train station we had to part ways, as I was staying at the hostel again and Sara had reserved an apartment for her and her friend. We had made plans to meet down at the beach later that afternoon, but somehow never found each other on the small but very crowded beach. I had an early night at the hostel as I knew I would have an extremely long day of traveling ahead of me. I was not looking forward to the travel time and distance ahead of me, but knew that the relaxing week of sailing that was at the end of it would be well worth. So with thoughts of sailing the Mediterranean Sea in my head, I drifted off to sleep and prepared for the long couple of days that were so rapidly approaching.

What Do You Do In France? Oh Yeah, Eat Cheese and Drink Wine. Duh.

Now that most of the day was gone we decided to head out and take a look at the beach. Walking past the center where the Cannes Movie Festival is held we found the beautiful beach and boardwalk that Cannes is known for.

After walking along the boardwalk for quite some time, and being that we were a bit tired from the travel, we decided to hit the store to grab some cheese, wine, olives, and bread and head back to the hotel for a picnic on the balcony. Here on the balcony we sat and chatted, enjoyed our French treats, and watched the excitement of the city below us. The next morning we headed to the pastry shop across the street for some amazing croissants and fresh juice before making our way back down to the beach to enjoy the sun and the beautiful French Riviera.

After we had had enough sun and sand we headed back to the hotel, but not before stopping off at the store to buy some more wine and cheese. After another wonderful picnic on the balcony we headed out to find a nice patio that had a big screen to watch the Spain vs. Portugal World Cup game, before finally calling it a day.

Welcome to Cannes… Kinda

Before leaving Marseille, Sara and I decided it would be a good idea to book a hotel in Cannes, which ultimately turned out to be a very bad idea. Up until this point I had always booked at least my first night in a new location before I got there so that I knew where I would be staying and how to get there. Up until this point, that had always proved to be beneficial. After looking over at least ten hotels in Cannes, we decided on one and headed for the train station. Having not written down the name of the hotel or the directions of how to get there we stepped off the train and headed in the direction that we thought our hotel was in. As we approached a hotel with a name that sounded familiar, and we were certain was the one we had booked. Walking through the lobby we were greeted with a friendly smile by the older, yet very attractive French lady behind the desk. We gave her our passports and gave her the name on the reservation, which she sadly informed us we had not made. Oops. Walking out of the hotel, we both looked at each other as if to say, “Yup, we should’ve just waited till we got here to find a place to stay”. Two blocks over we found the hotel that we did make the reservation at, but unfortunately did not find the same greeting. Walking through the dingy lobby of the “right” hotel and up the torn carpeted staircase, we were reluctantly greeted by the somewhat rough looking girl behind the front desk. She informed us that she did have our reservation, but however our room was not ready yet. She did inform us that we could leave our bags in the room and could come back for the keys. A concept that seemed odd to me, but for some reason I agreed anyway. Walking into the room, which was the size of a shoebox, we found a broken light, some semblance of a desk with a broken plastic lawn chair, a sagging bed, and a small isolating fan for “air-conditioning”. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I looked at Sara, who, I think out of fear of catching some type of disease, had decided to remain standing, and said something to the effect of, “This place sucks!” Her way of agreeing with me did not come verbally but rather by her pointing out the nail clippings that remained on the floor from some previous guest. We agreed to take a walk, get some food, and figure out what we wanted to do. Over a decent pizza we decided to go ask the pretty French lady at the place we thought we had a reservation with, how much a room would be there, if we could see it, and how much it would be for the two nights we planned on being in Cannes. Being that Sara spoke French I sent her in to deal with the woman and to scope out the room. Sara shortly returned with a giant smile on her face saying that the room was beautiful, the hotel immaculate, and that it was the same price as the other one. We walked, or more appropriately ran to the other hotel and told the girl at reception that we had an emergency and wouldn’t be able to stay with them and would like a refund. Oddly enough, she didn’t seem surprised, and quickly processed a refund and sent us on our way. Happily we walked back to our new digs and dropped our bags in a small but air conditioned room, with a large bed, proper shower, and a large balcony. All I could think was, wow, how different would our experience here been had we just stayed in the other hotel. Now we were ready to enjoy ourselves in beautiful Cannes.

Getting back To It

Ok. So here I am sitting at home and finally getting back to it. At this point I have been home for over two months and haven't written for about seven months or so. I'm not exactly sure why that is, part of it may be that I was just enjoying the end of my trip too much to actually sit down and write about it. Not exactly a bad problem to have, however, I am at a point that I know that if I don't dont do it now, I may never do it, and quite frankly, that would be one of the biggest regrets of my life. So, if you are still interested, here is the rest of my story, and the second half of my journey around the world, and, "The Slow Road Home".