… To the lonely sea and the sky. (Sea Fever, John Masefield).
And so I did. I can’t remember swimming in the sea for at least 25 years, in which case the last occasion would have been from the small, sandy beach at Praia de Luz, Portugal; now famous for more sinister happenings. This time the sea and I renewed our acquaintance at Cala Santandria, an even smaller, sandy beach in a narrow cove on Menorca in the Balearics.
Although a pleasant experience – made more so by the company, the same company I was with in Portugal – it is not something I am over eager to repeat, after all, Man has developed far more efficient methods of waterborne travel, and I find them much more appealing.
It makes me doubt Darwin’s theory that we all originated from the seas; my DNA. strands are surely more likely to be found in some land-based bacterium.
Perhaps I plummeted to earth aboard a wayward meteorite, or I may be the distant descendant of some extraterrestrial visitor who stopped by while trekking across the universe – was von Daniken right?
Enough of this delirium drivel! The Mediterranean sun has got to me!
Back to dear old Blighty tomorrow.