Been a bit poorly since Sunday and I have been confined to quarters. I've been a bit chesty. Being off work though I did manage to watch the return of Ellen MacArthur on tv. It was quite a magnificent site - spoiled by the ramshackle commentary of the BBC - to watch the plucky little sailor arrive in Falmouth. Her endeavours have spurred me into action. I have sent off for Academy Membership of the Eastbourne Soverieng Sailing Club. This time next year I shall hopefully be planning an epic journey of my own.....perhaps a trip over to the Isle of Wight? I may be press ganged whilst dawdling around Cowes and end up in the Southern Ocean peeling spuds for a playboy Prince. Oh I can smell the adventure from the confines of my germ filled, artificially lit office as I write.
Where has all the adventure gone? It's been beaten out of our lives by conformity. These days the biggest decisions we make are to paint the sitting room taupe or Tuscan breakfast. I plan to trawl my mind and come up with some outlandish ideas so I can do something with myself before I am half sick of my own shadow.
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