Going back to a house that doesn’t move anywhere from day to day is going to seem awfully dull compared with being on a boat. I began to understand why some people opt for living on a boat on a permanent basis, although I could happily leave jumping over water, to get to the shore, firmly behind. I enjoy sitting on the bridge, watching the world go by with the wind blowing my ears back. I offered to drive the boat, only to be told a boat is ‘steered’ rather then driven and besides which I wasn’t old enough. I offered to try parking it but apparently that is ‘mooring’ rather than ‘parking’. I began to understand that the language of the water is far removed from us land lubbers. There are ‘fore’ and ‘aft’ and ‘port’ and ‘starboard’ and so many other words I need to learn the meaning of. I’ve got as far as ‘Aye aye me hearties’ and I’m a bit stuck after that. I do now realise that my Master expects to be called Captain and my Mistress appears to be ships cook. I’m the General Dogsbody!
I’m glad we’re all going to Belgium soon as I’m feeling a little homesick and can’t help but lie awake at night thinking about how close my place of birth is from here, as the seagull flies.