Tall timber along Poole Quay

The house residents were up early this morning.  I’d like to think that it was sunshine, breezes, yoghurt and blueberries at the beach that motivated everyone.  But Greek-mom was working on her English, I was finishing pitch-prep, and the kids had an early shift cooking.  Only the cardiologist was sleeping in after late duty in imaging.

This really needed to change.

Boat show?  I asked, making sailing motions with my fingers.  Greek-mom brightened and slapped her books shut.   “Ready at 10,”, she offered,  continuing into a mixed language soliloquy.  In a full and happy (Greek) life, one needs regular doses of (in order of importance) relaxation, warm sun, blue water, and strong coffee. 

Tik-tik-tik-tik…,” “she motioned, mimicking my heavy-handed typing and shaking her head.

I get the message.

 

The car warmed up along with the day (although 12C-Dorset qualified as “mild winter” for the Greeks), and off we went to Poole.  The First Annual Poole Harbour Boat Show was spread across the Old Town Quay, a mix of tall ships, new motor- and sail- boats, and tents with every water-related charity imaginable.

  

I wandered the decks of the tall ship, lusted for a 57-foot sailboat (“only £800 per day charter, Isle of Wight and back,” suggested the salesman, hopefully).

 

Out on the water, a group of dingy-sailors practiced figure-8’s.  The Dorset Wrecks sang a cappella sea shanties from the music stage.

  

Time for a break, people-watching over thick Italian brew and sugary cakes.  Greek-mom said that one should always spend more than 5 hours when a table and coffee are available, talking, laughing,and tanning. 

I allowed half that, absorbing a mix of  Greek culture and politics, a mother’s worries about her daughter, and the (familiar) trials of residency and national insurance registration in the UK.

‘all in all, a nice event and a lovely day to (almost) be on the water.