This week's awfully big adventure was more awful and bigger than even before. It all began when dearly beloved bounced in at 9pm on a sunny Tuesday evening suggesting we spend the night on the boat. Our boat is not in the San Tropez class. It's in the caravan on water class. You can have a table or you can have a bed but you can't have both at once. But I'm short sighted and full hardy and willingly agreed.
We skimmed over the flat seas at sunset to settle in Rothesay harbour for the night. There were fairy lights in the trees and romance was in the air. We managed ten minutes in the first pub before closing time but soon found ourselves another open till midnight (or longer if necessary). Here we were introduced to a charming bull terrier name of Tigger in an impressive leather harness. He was standing outside the pub having a smoke when we first met him but came inside with us, amiably rolling over to reveal his belly.
At chucking out time me staggered back to the boat and chose the outside sleeping option. Long ago we had two mattress style cushions made for sunbathing (huh!) purposes. Ergo they are in almost pristine condition. Before leaving home I had instructed dearly beloved just to shove the bedclothes into a black bin bag. I retrieved said black bin bags and began to make up the bed in the laughingly titled sunbathing area. On went the the bottom sheet and the pillows and the bin bag was empty. Where's the duvet? What duvet? I told you pack the bedclothes. What bedclothes?
On the boat we keep antique sleeping bags. Relics of boy scout trips almost forth years ago and man, they smell like it! So with the aroma of 40 year old damp boy scouts in our nostrils we finally settle down in a Z shape as full extension was not possible.
In the harbour beside us were two Caledonian Macbrane ferries. We had been admiring these leviathans earlier because they were illuminated like Christmas tress. They remained illuminated throughout the night sustained by two powerful generators. It was like having four refuse removal lorries parked next to you. We tried to move into a silent Zen place within ourselves but ended up moving into the cabin to perch on top of the very uncomfortable table/bed. How do the cushions know to part themselves exactly where the jaggy point on your hip is?
At half past three the four fishing boats who were moored alongside prepared to go to work with much shouting and revving of engines accompanied by squalking seagulls fighting over last night's fish supper remains. (Not ours - the chip shop was shut). I gave up at this point, got up, got dressed, sat outside and read my book for a while. The fact that I was able to read my book make me realise suddenly it was light, despite being only four thirty.
I dragged a bleary and not entirely sober dearly beloved off the cabin table and persuade him it was time to go time. We zoomed back across the water as the sun rose. (see photo.) And you thought it was sunSET! Nope. I was definitely pointing east at the time.
By 5.30 we were stretched out in our fabulously comfortable and immovably permanent bed at home listening to the silken silence and muttering 'never again' as we slipped into blissful slumber.....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz