Monsoon Weather

A storm of heroic proportion rolled in around lunchtime. Rain teemed down and the wind lashed the palm trees like a scene from Key Largo. Fortunately we were inside the Marina bar at the time, midway through our pasta of the day watching it all through the glass walls. The waiter rushed to fasten the doors and we hunkered down as tables and chairs skedaddle along the terrace outside. A couple of the marineras had been having lunch too and reluctantly set out in the lull as the eye of the storm passed over, the waiter holding onto the door as they passed through. Coffee seemed the better part of valour and sure enough the second round had started thrashing the vicinity before our espressos arrived. We waited till the worst of the fury had dissipated before making our way back, hoods up. Once onboard John put the heating system on for the first time since leaving Lymington. Once the dust had burned off it was very cosy.

 

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