Thursday, 8 July 2010

When the wind blows

I am sitting alone in the stuffy cabin of our boat in the wind-tossed bay of Vathi in Ithaca. I want to get to shore but cannot reach it - Mr Grigg and the Champagne-Charlies are in a bar somewhere and they've got the dinghy.

I also keeping getting Mr Grigg's answerphone message when I try his mobile to tell him to please come back and get me, I'm feeling as sick as a dog.

But like Odysseus, I am facing my own challenges before being able to set foot on dry land. Namely a 2,000-word Open University essay on the role of black slavery in the modernisation of the Atlantic world. I am nauseous, bobbing around and a little bit frightened - although not half as sick as those poor slaves must have felt. The essay has to be emailed by noon tomorrow and I've still got 1,400 words to go.

And yesterday, as we were trying to anchor in a harbour full of white caps, Mr Grigg fell in the seated position on my neck. All 16-stone of him.

It sorted the crick out. But now I've got a headache.

That's about it.

Love Maddie x


Pamela Terry and Edward said...

The absolute worse feeling in the world.
Thinking of you.

Pondside said...

That's it - book a flight to Vancouver and The Great Dane will pick you up when he drops me off for the flight to Athens. You will be safe as can be here - good internet access and a lovely guest room, and best of all, no nasty sea. I will make the substantial sacrifice (for a blogging friend of some standing, only) and pay my OWN way over to crew for your lot.
Is it a deal?

PS - sympathy for the neck having been sat on, BTW