I talk to Rosemary on the VHF and as Mike will be spending the day working on our website and has no intention of shifting from the boat, I arrange to go over to Morro de Sao Paulo with them.
Matt comes over for me a couple of hours later. My intention is to walk around town with them and then walk back to Gamboa along the beach by myself after a couple of hours. It’s only meant to be a 40 minute walk – how difficult can that be?
We meet Jutta, Jochem and Eline at the ferry dock and Annie, Jim and Lee join us shortly after in town. There is a lot of choice for shopping here (as long as you want beachwear) but the quality is not particularly good and is very expensive as you would expect from a tourist destination. Still, a little bit of retail therapy is great even if I have absolutely no intention of buying anything.
Our party gets separated somewhere along the road through town but as might be expected, we find the half that disappeared shortly before, sitting sipping cocktails at the first beach bar we come to – but it is Jim’s birthday!
I take my leave after one drink and start the long walk back to Gamboa. Even by the time I arrive at the ferry dock I am tired. It’s 1 pm and the sun is sapping my strength already. The ferry to Gamboa suddenly looks very tempting but I decided I would do this walk and being the stubborn little mule that I am (or rather just a mad English woman in the midday sun) I plod past and down the slope to the beach.
I try to get hold of Mike with the hand held VHF but I seem to be too far away or land in in the way. The first part of the walk is the hardest. They are doing some construction work on the old fort wall and I have to take my flip flops off to walk around the workmen. For the first (and I guarantee it ) only time ever, I acknowledge just how useful those disgusting reef type shoes and crocs are as I hobble pathetically over the rocks and stones underfoot, whimpering pathetically and wobbling around, terrified of falling over and dropping my camera. But I negotiate this bit OK and continue on. At least the water is really warm. The last time my toes went in the water was in South Africa and it was like ice.
The beach walk is deserted for the most part and I feel like I have been cast away for a while. I am alone with my thoughts and my mind wanders to the four unfortunate crew members of the yacht Quest who were murdered the other day after their yacht was kidnapped by Somali pirates. The picture is still unclear, but the outcome, their death, definite. Once again, I think about how glad I am that our route did not take us so far north in the Indian Ocean, and also glad that we are doing this now as the situation can only get worse as these pirates get more desperate but more capable as now their vessels can take them further and further offshore.
I let my thoughts wander further off to the thorny question of what we are going to do with our lives over the next few years when I start to hear a Bob Marley song somewhere in the distance. “Don’t worry, about a thing, ‘cos every little thing’s gonna be alright” and suddenly I realise I am smiling and singing along. Ahead of me, perched up above the beach is the One Love bar and restaurant and it is from here that the music is coming live. I can just about make out the singer but more obvious is the huge mural of Bob Marley on the wall of the bar.
I stand and listen for a while, clapping when he finishes. The singer gives me a wave as he notices the strange woman standing alone on the beach with her stupid white hat on and a sarong wrapped around every bit of exposed flesh as the sun is so strong, then I’m off again, chirpier than I had been just a few minutes ago.
I pass countless fishing boats and fish traps on my way. The sand is clean and soft underfoot but I make sure I stay on the wet stuff as the dry stuff further up burns my feet even with my flip flops back on.
Up ahead I can see the pink chalky cliffs renowned for their health and youth giving properties as they are meant to be full of minerals. There are people covering themselves with this pink mud and I get talking to them, a couple of young women from London, Hannah and Leigh, who are here on holiday. We chat for a while and I promise them their photo will be on my blog, so here it is!
At long last I am able to get Mike on the VHF mobile unit and let him know my eta at the ferry dock. I am now really hot and desperate to be back on the boat with some cold water in and over me! I pass some more beach bars as I get nearer to Gamboa which remind me of the Caribbean and not just because of the reggae being played.
About 20 minutes later I am in the dinghy heading for Jeannius, a cold drink and cold shower awaiting me. After cooling off in the shade of the cockpit and drinking about 4 glasses of water, I stretch out and doze off.
The sunset when it arrives, is not spectacular tonight but the swirls in the cloud formations over it are beautiful in their own right.
My dear friend you can be so eloquent, yes even philosophical. Be proud of yourself ,you have conqured many fears on your journey . This life is for living,( how can you tell I work in palliative care !)
ReplyDeleteI hope Steve and I can be part of your adventures for many years to come,
love you lots
Johanne
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Thank you, darling, for being there for me through the darkest bits, and for joining us in those far flung places. I wish you had been free to do even more of it with us!
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