It’s been a long winter, but it passed quite fast to me. As always, still over the water, or close to it.
I’m currently writing from a train that’s running over the water too: It’s the bridge connecting Venice to Europe. Connecting Europe to Venice, more precisely.
Last time I wrote, I was in Budapest. In the meantime, Clodia has taken a most deserved sleep under a blue sheet and a blanket of snow and ice, that has caused so many troubles around the Danube this year. I’ll soon get to see what’s left of this tough winter. After taking a few days of rest in Venice along with my parents, my best friends (Kaos & Nix) and a few other very close people, I reached my beloved boat (and house) Brancaleon.
A dear friend of mine, skipper Stefano Leon Rodriguez, sailed it in just 12 days from Kos to Port de Pollença in Mallorca: 1.200 miles east to west.
In my plans, a week should have been enough to check it and then move on to Wien, as I promised to Captain Franz aboard the Frederic Mistral.
However I underestimated the task. My winter has been all about scratching, sawing, painting and cleaning.
Brancaleon was left on its own for nearly two years: An old lady like her, alive as all wooden boats are, gave it up a bit.
A relationship requires closeness and participation, otherwise things may get harsh.
In the nice bay of Port de Pollença I found the beauty of a wonderful island and many new friends.
