Thursday, 13 March 2008
Breakfast in boat
I have organised all the cooking gear that I reckon necessary for cruising. With an eye on weight I’ve selected a small frying pan and cooking pot. A gas burner, a small wooden plate, a sharp knife, a fork, spoon, tin-opener, corkscrew, a small metal bowl and cup make up the rest of the kit. Everything except the frying pan fits inside the pot and the package adds about two and a half kilos to the boat.
Also with an eye on weight, but this time my own, I took to running—until my knee started complaining. So now, with the double motivation of vanity and fitness, I’m rowing a few miles in the early morning. It’s more time consuming than running but a thousand times more enjoyable. The weather hasn’t been particularly good over the past week, I’ve been launching into waves most days, the rowing has been challenging and cooking would have been more so, but this morning brought calm seas and clear skies.
The bottle of wine I seized as an afterthought on my way out of the kitchen at six am rightly suspecting that after exercise and hearty fare I’d find myself in a celebratory mood. In Spain it’s not uncommon to see workmen drinking beer or wine with their breakfast and finishing off with a carajillo—an espresso laced with brandy, whisky, rum or anis. This aspect of Spanish culture probably goes some way to explaining the build quality of houses here. But I’m no one to talk of build quality.
I rowed three miles then anchored in 20 metres a mile offshore. The sun was breaking through thin clouds and the local fishing fleet chugged across the horizon as bacon sizzled in the pan.
The privileges of boat ownership!