I’m in Ramsgate, the north sea looks magnificent today.

I feel very much down because of what’s happening, but happy to learn that even now, this voyage is a powerful generator of life.

Since leaving London I felt strange pains to my left lung and breathing was problematic.

In the last two weeks, in Faversham, this got worse and I often could not even walk without having to stop to recover my breath.

Sometimes I had to lay down.

When arrived in Ramsgate things worsened dramatically. After two nights of strong wind and much noise due to the Dynamo Day event, the pain became unbearable and breathing very hard indeed. My brain could not get enough oxygen and even simple actions like walking became an adventure.

Jacopo took me to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Margate: there I’ve been analysed, x-rayed, scanned and examined in record time, by lovely people displaying great professionalism, kindness and humanity.

At the beginning they feared a pulmonary embolism, then further exams disclosed a virus that has settled in my lungs and in my brain. Never mind the brain, but the lungs are far more simple and genuine, built to perform a simple but essential task.

I’m now under antibiotic and cortisone, trying to rest. My energy is low but I often get out to see the Channel waiting for me, and Clodia impatient to set sails again.

I hope to get better in about ten days, maybe less. Once the inflammation disappears I should be able to breath normally. Cortisone does some magic.

I must say that I usually never use medicines, opting for natural way of treatment. However this time I faced two alternatives:
A – try to transform into an anaerobic being
B – six month of natural therapy.

I’m sorry to feed my body with antibiotic and cortisone, even a slow-traveling project, but timing is now important. I hope you may understand that this slow down, appearing as an annoyance, became to me a great enrichment. As Aeschylus wrote in his extraordinary tragedy, the Agamemnon, “the pain of grief brings wisdom and experience”.

The anxiety, the people following this voyage, all those asking why we don’t keep going, Jacopo frustrated by this forced waiting: They all put lots of pressure on me.

The weather, the events, my health, the promises not kept by others, the slow downs: Everything plotted to take me to this point and learn that this was the only way.

I could have been in a very akward situation, would things have developed differently.

We’ll cross the Channel along with sombody that we’ll find here or in Dover, regardless of any support boat. Sailors already annoyed me: Often so arrogant and incapable of any solidarity. Conrad is turning over in his grave.

So weird: In so much water I missed air.

A big hug and a huge thank to everyone for your support.
 

 

 

After so many days of waiting and silence, at last we set off again! We are hailed by the brightest sun, that makes the sea look like a mirror.

Our destination for the day is Ramsgate, not a long distance overall. It seems too easy…

Just after coasting the city of Margate we are waited by an unwanted surprise: The wind suddenly turns from 10 to 20 knot speed, changing direction, and the stream draw us in open sea, toward Norway.

What I call the “English Heel” is a place feared even by the most experienced sailors. We are approaching a cape and pheraps it wants to remind us who is in charge here!

We see in the distance two-metres waves building a wall of water, we find shallows coming out of nowhere, seals sunbathing, whirlwinds and strong streams. Not a pleasant sailing indeed!

Though as blue as the Mediterranean, the North Sea is far more scary, so we decide to turn back, heading to Margate for the night.

Margate has been one of the favorite seasides of Londoners for over 250 years.

From the sixties on, the reduction of domestic tourism brought to Margate many people that felt outcast in London: Nowadays this town is a place both of troubles and rebirth, and home of so many artists.

 
The next morning our journey restarts.

We are just 7,6 miles away from Ramsgate and with a fantastic sailing we reach our destination in less than two hours.

Here we are greeted by the Royal Temple Yacht Club, founded in 1857, and by the kindness of its Commodore, Mr Mike Brand.

 
Ramsgate is both nordic light and mediterranean warmth: Hooked to the white cliffs, it resembles an extended Potala. The city is full of strange faces, bizarre people and seamen: A richness that will soon come back.

The North Sea is now out of our way, thank God.

We are about to leave both the UK and Kent, “The Garden of England”.

Next week, on Dynamo Day, we’ll get to France, unless the weather says “no” once again, of course…

 
 
 
 
Our photographer and friend Massimo Di Nonno has published on his website many beautiful and bizarre picture of us: Check out the gallery.
 

We’re still in Faversham, but now we moved to the Oare Creek, a muddy channel where our life is regulated by the five-metres tide coming to visit every six hours.
 
 
 
 
 
 
In these last days we kept meeting very interesting people, as Bob and Lena. He’s English and she’s Swedish: they live by trading in boat’s spare parts coming from all over the world.

Their home is in Faversham Shipyard, surrounded by some of the oldest English boats.
 
 
 
In this wonderful location they’re restoring “Cambria”, a Thames Barge built in 1906, by using founds coming from the National Lotteries. Here the money are very well spent, financing projects that revive historical traditions and in the meantime create new working places.

It’s a great example to look at for all the territories where there is water (such as rivers, lakes or seas) and there are boats.

It allows to keep traditions alive, handing them down and improving the quality of life.

The weather has been very bad, with plenty of rain and strong winds: now the clouds have gone and we can appreciate beautiful starry nights, although the temperature drops as low as 1°C.

We really hope for the wind to calm down, even if the constant low pressure on the Mediterranean does not help, attracting winds from Norway.
 
 
We can’t wait to cross the Channel. See you soon.