A small flotilla of motor yachts from a somewhat elite Yachting Squadron, arrived in port a few days ago, and it’s quite clear that the cut of their cloth is of a different cut to that of the majority of we boat dwellers. If it wasn’t for the splendid outfits they wore both ashore and aboard and perhaps how seriously they took themselves, it would be the notable fact that the staff were in uniform which really set them apart from the rest of us.
There’s no escaping that there is a distinct absence “staff” aboard our little ship to take care of the things that we’d rather not do ourselves, and with one more sleep until Cheryl and Ian arrive, there was no time like the present to sort out a couple of loads of washing, change the engine oil, clean the shower filters and attend to all that is distinctly not glamorous when it comes to living on a boat.
Fortunately in with our usual mix of efficiency and procrastination, we managed to complete most of our tasks by midday, and put off the others till tomorrow, leaving a full half-day for aimless wandering through the streets of Paris in the building heat of summer.
Half a day of zigging and zagging down arcades and avenues, stopping occasionally to listen to the likes of the young lady singing a passable rendition of “Joline” on the steps of Monmartre, or the stringed orchestra playing classics in the Metro station at Bastille. Half a day of window shopping in boutiques and antique shops and watching auctions in progress at poster shops and simply enjoying being there. Half a day of Paris in summer is more than enough to leave one pleasantly footsore and weary at days end, although perhaps the morning’s work contributed to that, but importantly to leave things unseen to explore another day.
Actually, had we had staff aboard, we may well have been tempted to stay out all day, arriving home over-tired and grumpy, without any desire to go out again. We are thankful for small mercies such as these!